Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Chapter 142 The Crushing Defeat of Senggelinqin

"Order the artillery to prepare."

At the Qing army's front, a total of twelve cast iron and bronze cannons began to be loaded.

The gunners stuffed a bag of gunpowder, wrapped tightly in burlap, into the muzzle of the cannon, tamped it down with a long pole, and then filled it with a round iron bullet.

A gunner carrying a long cone walked to the breech of the cannon and aimed the cone at the breech.

The touch hole was a small hole, about the thickness of a chopstick, on the breech of the cannon, leading directly into the barrel. He inserted the awl into the touch hole, punctured the gunpowder pack, and then poured the extremely finely ground gunpowder into the touch hole.

The gunner pulled a match cord from his pocket, blew on the sparks at the end, and brought it close to the fuse. With a hiss, white smoke billowed up.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The twelve cannons unleashed bursts of orange-red fire one after another, plumes of white smoke billowing from their muzzles. Projectiles streaked across the sky, flying towards the opposing formation with a muffled whistling sound.

But soon, after flying about two-thirds of the way, the projectiles began to fall noticeably, finally crashing into the open ground about four or five hundred paces in front of the opposing forward position, kicking up a few clumps of dirt, rolling twice, and then coming to a stop.

The first shot missed.

"What happened?"

Senggelinqin frowned and turned to his personal guards: "Why can't we hit them?"

The guards hurriedly brought the artillery commander.

The officer, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth and bowed, saying, "Your Highness, the rebels' lines are about a thousand paces away. Our cannons have a range of only six hundred paces; it's simply impossible for us to hit them!"

Senggelinqin's face darkened: "Then add more gunpowder, put in more powder packs. Otherwise, you and the artillerymen will push the cannons forward four hundred paces until you can hit the other side!"

The officer hesitated for a moment, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something. But when he looked up and saw Senggelinqin's expressionless face, he swallowed his words.

So what if it's prone to exploding? It's not like I'll be the one who dies. But pushing the cannon forward four hundred paces, isolated and without support, that's a sure path to death.

He ran back, huffing and puffing, and began giving orders. When the gunners heard the orders, their movements became noticeably more tense as they reloaded.

They increased the amount of gunpowder from the original plan to nearly two times, filled the cannon barrel, inserted the projectile, and tamped it down.

boom!

A few minutes later, a cast iron cannon was the first to be fired, the flames were much more intense than before, and it made a loud noise like thunder.

But the shell didn't fly out.

The barrel of the cast iron cannon instantly shattered into countless fragments of varying sizes and sharp edges, scattering in all directions without leaving any blind spots.

The gunners barely had time to react before being hit in the head or chest by shrapnel, or had their limbs severed.

The shockwave followed closely, hurling the corpses far away. Scattered limbs and severed bodies landed on infantrymen a short distance away, eliciting a chorus of curses.

"It's hilarious to see."

In the array of Xinghan Hall, the artillery battalion commander put down his binoculars and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"What were they thinking? That cast iron muzzle-loading cannon looks decades old, right? They dared to increase the propellant charge on such an ancient relic?"

The deputy battalion commander standing nearby chuckled, "The Qing government didn't have a dedicated artillery force. The cannons were scattered and lacked coordination, and they received little training on a daily basis. Calling them artillery was really just a bunch of infantrymen equipped with cannons."

"Then let's show them what real artillery is like today!"

The artillery battalion commander grinned, raised his right arm, and his voice suddenly sharpened: "Bearing, 32 degrees north of east. Distance, 1,600 meters. Prepare explosives!"

"Direction 32 degrees, distance 1600 meters, explosive bomb, understood!"

The artillerymen repeated the instructions, and the loader took a long, pointed, fixed-charge round from the ammunition box. The brass cartridge case was filled with black powder, and the warhead contained picric acid explosive.

The two gunners looked at the micrometers on the steering wheel and elevation dial, and began to work together to crank the handwheels of the azimuth and elevation mechanisms. The dark muzzle moved slowly with the slight clicking of the gears, adjusting the gun's direction and elevation.

"Open the breech, load the shell."

The breech door opened, the loader pushed the shell in, the gunner closed the door, and pulled the handle hard to confirm that it was locked.

"fire!"

Almost simultaneously, the muzzles of the ten Type 1 cannons spewed fire, and the shells flew a distance of 1,600 meters, landing precisely on the Qing army's position!

The bitter acid explosive inside the projectile exploded the moment it hit the ground, scattering sparks and shrapnel in all directions!

Amidst the billowing mud and dust, Qing soldiers and their horses tumbled and fell, cannons twisted and shattered, and gunners turned into blood mist without even a cry of pain.

"Your Highness—"

The guard Deleng'e's voice trembled slightly, "Our artillery position is going to be blown up!"

Senggelinqin tightened his grip on the monocular telescope.

His original plan was to use artillery to launch a preemptive strike and disrupt the enemy's formation. Now, however, his own artillery is being relentlessly attacked by the enemy like dogs.

Without much hesitation, he decisively ordered: "Order the cavalry on the left and right flanks to attack immediately, flanking and attacking from both sides! Also, order the artillery commanders to take advantage of the enemy's reloading time and quickly move their artillery pieces!"

Before the order could be given, Senggelinqin heard the familiar roar again.

Only a dozen breaths later, the enemy artillery opened fire again, the explosions completely engulfing the artillery pieces that had survived the previous round, and blowing the nearby gunners into the air.

"How is that possible?!"

Senggelinqin's eyes widened. "How could their artillery reload so quickly?!"

Keep in mind that the Qing army's artillery took at least two to three minutes to reload after each shot. Meanwhile, the enemy's cannons had only been firing for about thirty seconds.

"What are you waiting for? Quickly send out the cavalry on both flanks!"

The bugle sounded hastily, and the rapid clatter of hooves came from both flanks of the position.

A total of one thousand cavalrymen from both sides began to charge. The two iron cavalrymen formed a torrent, shouting, raising their sabers, neighing their horses, and kicking up dust that blotted out the sky.

Senggelinqin watched his cavalry charge through his binoculars and felt a little more at ease.

A thousand cavalrymen pressed forward simultaneously from both flanks, like two iron pincers clamping down on soft flesh in the middle. Once the enemy infantry's formation was disrupted, the remaining infantry could simply follow up to clean up the battlefield.

This was his tried-and-true tactic, which had proven effective time and again, from the Horqin Grasslands to the Central Plains battlefield.

A short command rang out from the ranks of Xinghan Hall.

"All troops, listen to my command! Fix bayonets and form a hollow square!"

Two thousand infantrymen marched forward, quickly transforming from a line formation into a massive, square array. They all raised their rifles in unison, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

They watched silently as the Mongol cavalry drew closer. The sound of hooves surged from both sides simultaneously, and the ground began to tremble slightly.

Just then, the five hundred cavalrymen to the right rear of Xinghan Hall also moved.

"Brothers, the time has come to make a name for yourselves and repay our lord's kindness."

Li Wenzhong raised his carbine high, grinning, "Today, let the Mongols across the way know just how weak they are in front of us!"

The cavalry behind him roared in response, and then all five hundred cavalrymen spurred their horses forward. There was almost no transition from stillness to charge, and the horses' hooves pounded the ground with a dense drumbeat.

When the Mongol cavalry on the left flank charged to within about three hundred paces of the Xinghantang infantry formation, the Mongol cavalry in the front ranks could already see the expressions on the faces of the infantrymen opposite them.

The next instant, they saw the cavalry behind the infantry. Those tall, foreign horses charged out from both sides of the infantry formation, the riders on horseback holding short spears, the muzzles already pointed at them.

Some Mongol cavalrymen were fearless, for they had never seen such a short-armored weapon before. But others of the Mongol cavalrymen paled, for they had already witnessed its power.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A burst of dense, rhythmic gunfire rang out, bullets traveling three hundred paces and accurately piercing the cavalrymen charging at the forefront.

The first rank of Mongol cavalrymen crashed into an invisible wall, falling to the ground along with their horses. Bullets pierced through leather armor and thick cotton coats, embedding themselves in flesh and blood; the sound of bones breaking was drowned out by the neighing of horses and the screams of men.

A rider was struck in the face, his entire face exploded, his body stiffened on the horse's back for a moment, then slid limply off, his foot still stuck in the stirrup, dragged across the battlefield by the frightened horse, leaving a long trail of blood.

More bullets flew from the carbines, and Mongol cavalrymen fell from their horses one after another.

Some Mongol cavalrymen spurred their horses on desperately, trying to close the distance so they could retaliate.

However, the five hundred cavalrymen led by Li Wenzhong always kept their fire outside the range of the Mongol cavalry, remaining neither too close nor too far, like a pack of wolves hunting sheep.

"Damn it, they're using our tactics against us!"

A Mongol cavalryman, his eyes bloodshot, drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and fired fiercely in Li Wenzhong's direction. But the distance was too great; the arrow couldn't reach the other side at all, and it fell lightly to the ground when it was still dozens of paces away from Li Wenzhong's cavalry.

The left wing of the Mongol cavalry was decimated in this one-sided massacre, and soon, fewer than a hundred Mongol cavalrymen remained.

They did consider escaping, but the opposing cavalry would advance and retreat, sticking to them like glue, making escape impossible.

Meanwhile, the situation for the Mongolian cavalry on the right wing was not much better.

Before they even reached the infantry ranks, they were hit by several artillery shells, one after another exploding in the charging herd of horses.

A hail of bullets swept across the battlefield, blood and flesh flying everywhere. Warhorses scattered in panic amidst the rain of bullets, and the charging formation crumbled into small groups of three or five in the blink of an eye. Then rifles and machine guns opened fire, killing these stragglers one by one.

The Mongol cavalry began to retreat.

First, one of them turned his horse around, followed by a group. They lay prone on their horses, afraid to look up, whipping their rumps furiously as they fled desperately toward the Qing army's main camp to the north.

"The enemy is retreating! Brothers, let's give them a good beating while they're down!"

Li Wenzhong laughed loudly and spurred his horse to chase after them, his carbine firing incessantly, accurately targeting the fleeing Mongol cavalry.

As he continued his pursuit, his gaze passed over the routed soldiers and locked onto the central position of the Qing army.

Behind the infantry, two large, apricot-yellow poles stood majestically, fluttering in the wind. Embroidered in the center was a golden dragon amidst clouds, and the edges were inlaid with flame patterns. Above them were the eight large characters: "Prince Bodhisattva of the ...

"Senggelinqin".

A glint flashed in Li Wenzhong's eyes, and without hesitation, he led his cavalrymen toward the banner.

As the Qing infantrymen saw their own cavalry fleeing back in disarray, and the opposing cavalry charging towards them, the Green Standard Army soldiers began to stir.

Some people whispered among themselves in the queue, while others' hands gripping their spears began to tremble.

Suddenly, one of the Green Standard Army soldiers at the front dropped his spear and turned to run. But he hadn't gone far when the supervising officer caught up and slashed him on the back of the neck, blood spurting half a foot high.

"Hold on tight, all of you! Anyone who tries to escape will be killed without mercy!" the captain roared, brandishing his blood-stained knife.

The formation temporarily stabilized, but as cannonballs continued to explode on the Qing army's positions and enemy cavalry drew ever closer, some Green Standard Army soldiers broke down.

First it started at the edges, then it spread to the center like dominoes. They dropped their weapons and flags and ran back in a panic.

"Your Highness!"

A bodyguard grabbed the reins of Senggelinqin's donkey cart and said urgently, "The cavalry has collapsed, and the Green Standard Army is about to collapse too! Let's retreat!"

"Shi Rongchun's troops are still more than ten miles away from here; we won't be able to hold out until their reinforcements arrive!"

No sooner had they finished speaking than a bullet whistled over their heads and crashed into a distant wheat field, creating a large crater and sending dirt and straw flying everywhere.

Senggelinqin was still hesitating when he suddenly heard a very loud voice coming from afar: "Senggelinqin, you old dog, Li Wenzhong has come today to take your dog's life!"

He suddenly looked up in the direction from which the sound came.

It was an extremely young man, riding a tall horse, his gun still smoking, slaughtering his soldiers.

But what shocked Senggelinqin was not this, but the fact that the man did not have a shaved head or a braid, as did the cavalrymen around him.

"Han Chinese?! How could they be Han Chinese?!"

Senggelinqin's mind went blank, as if he had been struck on the head.

He suddenly realized that he had made a huge mistake; he had been wishfully thinking that Da Nian had colluded with foreigners to rebel in Tianjin.

But what if it wasn't Da Nian colluding with foreigners, but rather the Han people who seized the city with the help of foreigners?

The guards no longer bothered to ask for instructions. Several men rushed forward, surrounding Senggelinqin and protecting him. One of the guards brought over a horse and hurriedly helped Senggelinqin onto its back.

"Your Highness, hurry! The enemy soldiers are charging at us!"

Senggelinqin took one last look at the battlefield, then without hesitation cracked his whip: "Let's go, back to the capital!"

"Old dog, don't run away!"

Li Wenzhong spotted Senggelinqin fleeing from afar and, without hesitation, led his men in pursuit.

In a time of widespread corruption within the Eight Banners, Senggelinqin was one of the few capable princes among the Manchus and Mongols. Capturing him would undoubtedly be a huge blow to the Qing court.

The horses' hooves thundered, raising clouds of dust.

The two pursued each other, fleeing towards the ancient imperial city in the north, disappearing into the distance.