Chapter 21: Breaking the Cage

"Die!"

Gu Zhenhua’s warhorse galloped like a lightning bolt toward Gao Yigong, and he brought his blade down in a vicious strike. Instinctively sensing danger, Gao Yigong hurriedly raised his own weapon to parry.

The two weapons clashed, and Gao Yigong felt his arms go numb, nearly losing his grip on his sword. Panic surged through him. In the fray of battle, everything ultimately boiled down to strength and reflexes—all else was mere pretense. As the saying goes, one force can overcome ten techniques; realizing his strength was inferior, Gao Yigong’s confidence faltered.

Gu Zhenhua, fueled by rage, unleashed a flurry of lethal strikes, moving like a whirlwind. The great general of the rebel army was forced to retreat step by step, no longer able to focus on Sun Cheng and Lu Yong.

At that moment, Xue Biao charged over, shouting, "Big brother, second brother, quickly retreat to the wagon train!"

Sun Cheng noticed the massive wagon train Gu Zhenhua had brought and, along with Lu Yong, was stunned. Gu had only been accompanied by eight men when they set out to track Zhu Chunchen; how had he suddenly gained hundreds of soldiers and so many wagons? What exactly was their "fourth brother" planning?

Though confused, one thing was certain: Gu Zhenhua’s strength had grown, which was a blessing in these desperate times. They followed Xue Biao’s instructions and retreated into the wagon formation. The dozen remaining guards were rescued as well, though all were wounded, some severely. As for the others, they had already fallen in battle.

It was their lives that had held the Dashun army at bay, buying this precious time. To a soldier who had served in the ranks, there was no bond stronger than one forged in blood. Through this exchange of life and death, Gu Zhenhua felt himself becoming increasingly integrated into this era.

Once the men were safe, Xue Biao bellowed, "Fourth brother, fall back!"

Hearing this, Gu Zhenhua knew the musketeers were ready. While the two sides had been locked in melee, they could not fire, but now that his men were clear, it was time to let the Dashun troops taste the devastation of volley fire.

Gu Zhenhua slashed at Gao Yigong a few more times before turning to flee. Gao Yigong, refusing to accept defeat, spurred his horse in pursuit, and the rest of the Dashun soldiers surged forward toward the wagon train.

"Thinking of running? Leave your head behind!" Gao Yigong roared.

Gu Zhenhua ignored him, whipping his horse into a frenzy until he reached the front of the wagons. Xie Bin, who was commanding the musketeers, had already prepared; he had used the wagons to block the street, and thirty musketeers stood in a line, ready to fire.

As Gu Zhenhua’s horse raced toward them, they opened a gap, closing it immediately after he passed through. Thirty muskets leveled their barrels at the charging rebel soldiers.

"Guard Xie, are you ready?"

"Watch closely!" Xie Bin replied with conviction. Ever since Gu Zhenhua had proposed the five-stage firing drill, Xie had been putting his mind to it.

Gu’s strategy was brilliant. With only three hundred men but over three thousand muskets, they had to maximize their firepower to break out of the city. In the narrow urban streets, where the distance between sides was often mere paces, a lack of fire density would be equivalent to offering themselves up as fodder.

Xie Bin had calculated that the standard three-stage volley was insufficient, and even five stages might not be enough. He assigned each musketeer ten weapons. While the marksman held one, the others were stowed on the wagons, where three men were responsible for reloading and a fourth for swapping the empty muskets for charged ones, ensuring a relentless density of fire.

A simple test had proven it highly effective, and this division of labor eased the burden on the musketeers, allowing them to focus solely on their aim and minimizing errors.

Xie Bin was confident in this new tactic, though it remained to be proven in the crucible of battle.

As the Dashun army drew closer, Xie Bin’s eyes widened, and he shouted, "Fire!"

With a roar that shook the heavens, the muskets flashed, and lead balls tore through the air. The Dashun soldiers forty paces away fell like wheat before a scythe. Gao Yigong, caught off guard by the sheer number of muskets, was startled.

However, once the first volley ended, he regained his confidence. Based on his experience fighting Ming troops, they usually only fired once before discarding their muskets to switch to cold steel.

With the two sides only forty paces apart, there was no time to reload. Confident, Gao Yigong spurred his horse forward.

Yet, in a split second, a second volley rang out. Another dozen soldiers in front of Gao Yigong collapsed, their agonizing screams piercing the air, and Gao Yigong found himself exposed to the barrels.

As the second volley finished, the musketeers' slow matches were still smoldering. The loaders immediately swapped the empty muskets for fresh ones, rushing the spent weapons back to the wagons to be cleaned and reloaded.

Within a single breath, a third volley erupted. The searing lead balls slammed into the Dashun ranks. Gao Yigong was struck with terror; he had never seen such a horrific rate of fire—not even the three-stage drill could match it!

Unable to hold his position, he threw himself from his horse and rolled to the ground. His riderless horse became a target, struck by five or six bullets before collapsing with a thud.

Three consecutive volleys had claimed dozens of Dashun lives, and the enemy ranks were thinning. Xie Bin was emboldened, and his musketeers found newfound confidence in their weapons.

Previously, due to shoddy manufacturing, muskets often failed to injure the enemy and were prone to exploding, causing Ming soldiers to distrust them deeply. But what they saw now shattered those perceptions—the Dashun soldiers lay in piles, blood pooling around their mangled bodies.

The seemingly invincible Dashun army was being defeated by them, and the key to this victory was in their hands. The soldiers gripped their iron weapons tightly.

Xie Bin felt a growing admiration for Gu Zhenhua. Had Gu not insisted on transporting the muskets out of the Wanggong Factory, none of this would have been possible.

With their morale soaring, the soldiers were unstoppable. Conversely, the Dashun army suffered an unprecedented blow. Li Yan, who had been commanding alongside Gao Yigong, was shocked; having reached the capital, to encounter such an opponent was entirely unexpected.

"Quickly, save General Gao!"

Li Yan issued the order desperately. Victory was within reach, but losing a top general was a devastating setback. The Dashun soldiers rushed forward frantically.

Facing such easy targets, Xie Bin did not hold back. He commanded his men to keep firing, the lead balls falling like rain.

Row after row of soldiers were cut down, yet they were fierce, stepping over their comrades' corpses to push forward. Finally, Gao Yigong was dragged from the pile of dead by a few soldiers, who fled in a panic. Just to save him, forty or fifty men had lost their lives, their bodies strewn across the ground.

There were only a few hundred Dashun soldiers at the Chaoyang Gate; such heavy losses shattered their morale. Terrified, the survivors began to fall back in disarray.

"Advance ten paces!"

The musketeers marched forward in perfect unison, the loaders and wagons following closely behind.

"Halt."

"Ready! Fire!"

The muskets roared like a string of firecrackers, and another wave of soldiers near the gate collapsed. The fire was relentless, stripping away every shred of the Dashun army’s resolve.

Sun Cheng and Lu Yong, having just bandaged their wounds, were stunned. They owned many Lumichong muskets themselves, but had never imagined they could be used this way. Seeing the devastating results, they both gave Gu Zhenhua a heartfelt thumbs-up.

Finally, relying on the lethal power of their muskets, the Chaoyang Gate fell under Gu Zhenhua's control.

"Musketeers, provide cover! Move the wagons out of the city!"

At Gu Zhenhua's command, the drivers whipped the beasts of burden, driving them forward. The heavy wheels crushed the bodies of the Dashun soldiers as they surged through the gate.

Wagon after wagon passed, and as Gu Zhenhua directed the flow, he remained unaware that a pair of clear, observant eyes was watching him intently through the gap in a carriage curtain.