Chapter 649 - Rout

Chen Renjie's two thousand men had marched three or four li when the earth suddenly erupted on both sides of the road. The Fubogun's combat engineers had laid iron Claymore mines with pull-fuse detonators along the post road during the night, and the moment Chen Renjie's vanguard entered the minefield, the explosions scattered his formations like leaves in a gale. Before he could rally his men, a column of bald bandits emerged from ahead like a solid wall—red banners flying, unleashing volleys of gunfire and artillery in devastating coordination.

His troops were mostly a rabble—capable enough if given time to form up and assault fortifications, but utterly unable to withstand a sudden encounter battle. They broke immediately, fleeing back toward Chengmai in a panicked tide. Chen Renjie led his small contingent of personal troops in a desperate attempt to stem the flood and reorganize, but it was futile—he was swept along by the torrent of panicked soldiers.

The ten thousand men following close behind had all suffered defeats in the previous days' fighting and were already jumpy as startled birds. The sound of cannons ahead and the collapse of the vanguard threw them into instant disarray. At that moment, the 3rd, 5th, and 6th Battalions launched simultaneous attacks from three directions against the already wavering main body, routing most of it almost instantly.

He Ming understood that his forces were limited and could not form a complete encirclement. He therefore demanded that each battalion employ aggressive assault tactics and overwhelming firepower to shatter the imperial forces quickly—stripping them of organization and command, driving the routed soldiers toward the coast where they could be contained.

He committed all five battalions from the start. To maximize firepower, each battalion was reinforced with two additional militia companies as auxiliaries, responsible for pushing and operating the three 12-pounder mountain howitzers and three Typewriters assigned to each unit—an unprecedented concentration of firepower. As for the seaside camp, the Navy had dispatched marines and sailors from the ships to defend it. The night before, a substantial naval relief force had arrived with 1,200 Hale rockets—virtually the entire stockpile in the armory.

He Ming now stood atop the observation tower at the main camp, surveying the battlefield. All five infantry battalions had been committed at once. From the current progress of the engagement, everything was developing ideally. The imperial vanguard had scattered under the minefield explosions and the savage infantry assault.

He asked: "Has He Rubin's force moved yet?"

"No. His command banner is still stationary at the main camp."

He Ming was nervous. He had insufficient reserves; if something unexpected happened, he would have difficulty responding. His only available forces were the marine companies and sailors who had come ashore from the naval vessels to guard the camp. Chen Haiyang assured him that most of the ships' sailors had been organized into five companies, ready to land and join the fight at any time. But He Ming lacked confidence in the sailors' land combat capabilities.

The field army's staff officers continuously watched the battlefield through telescopes, plotting the latest positions on maps and coordinating with battalion commanders via walkie-talkie.

He Rubin rushed out of his tent to find utter chaos. Amid the smoke and flames, soldiers who had lost their formations and units were streaming away in flight.

He ordered drums beaten and conches blown, calling all units to reform at the main camp, but the battlefield was in complete pandemonium. Gunfire and cries of battle rose everywhere; no one heeded his orders.

Is this how it ends? He Rubin's hands and feet went cold.

Then Sun Changzuo galloped up with a dozen retainers: "Sir, mount up at once! I will escort the command column to break out!"

"Which of the generals are still at headquarters?"

"Only Commander Ye remains. All units have scattered. Please, sir—mount up and ride!"

Before He Rubin could respond, several of his guards hoisted him bodily onto a horse and charged out. His two thousand central troops had already assembled, and together they swept out of the main camp toward Qiongshan.

Li Modao and his firearms battalion had been forgotten. He and his men remained at the main camp, but no bald bandit force attacked their position. He could only watch as great masses of routed soldiers fled toward the beach, pursued by gray-clad enemy columns.

"Running to the seaside to die?" Li Modao roared, but no one heard him. A bazong ran up to ask if they should abandon camp and run.

"Not now!" Li Modao shook his head. "It's chaos out there. If we go, we'll be swept up with the mob and driven to the beach. We hold here."

He Rubin's two thousand men burst out of the main camp like tigers from a cage. But their movements were immediately spotted. He Ming knew this was the command column attempting to break out. He immediately ordered Zhu Mingxia's battalion to intercept. Under overwhelming firepower, the 4th Infantry Battalion finally shattered the last organized imperial force.

By a little after nine in the morning, the situation across the Chengmai battlefield was utterly clear: the entire imperial army had scattered. No organized imperial units remained on the field.

"Brothers! Surrender now! You won't be beaten or killed!" The cries drifted on the wind.