The Revolt of the Three Feudatories: All-in at the start in Beijing

Chapter 283 Riding Through

On the western horizon, the first thing to appear was a red flag with a black dragon, with the flag bearer leading the way. Behind the flag were a hundred Han cavalrymen wearing khaki cloth armor and riding Ili horses.

"Brothers, charge with me!"

The centurion in charge was named Huang You. He was nearly 1.8 meters tall and rode a black Kazakh horse. Because he was the child of a Mongolian and a Kazakh, he had a mixed appearance. He inherited the round face of Mongolians, but also had a high nose and deep-set eyes.

He raised his saber high, and a hundred riders behind him drew their swords at the same time, their blades gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

The Russian noble general was leading his troops toward the city gate when he turned his head and saw Han cavalry emerging from the west. His expression immediately changed.

He snatched the monocular binoculars from the lieutenant, glanced at them, uttered a string of Russian profanities, then abruptly turned his horse and roared at the bugler, "All cavalry, assemble! Now!"

The horn sounded, and the Russian cavalrymen who were still driving the cannon fodder towards the city wall reined in their horses and looked back in the direction of the horn.

The cannon fodder soldiers who had already set up the ladders stopped fighting and were only reluctantly stepped down from the ladders after being whipped a few times with the back of their swords by the cavalry supervising the battle.

"Dismount! Form ranks!" the Russian noble general roared in Russian, then repeated to the Cossacks in Turkic, "Raise your arquebuses! Musketeers in front, shields behind! Quickly!"

Two hundred Russian cavalrymen dismounted, hung their chashik scimitars on their waists, and took their matchlock muskets from their saddles. The two hundred men were divided into two ranks, with the front rank crouching and the back rank standing. The matchlocks were all lit. The remaining one hundred cavalrymen remained on their horses and gathered on the right side of the formation.

In the past two years, the Russian cavalry has never won a battle against the Han Chinese cavalry. They have always been routed or run away like dogs.

Now, the Russians have learned their lesson. Each time, they divide their troops, dismount, form ranks, and use muskets to wear down the Han army. Once the Han army's formation is disrupted by the volleys of musket fire, they then use cavalry to launch a surprise attack.

This approach exploits the Han army's long supply lines, which mean they cannot afford to lose ammunition and manpower.

The noble general spurred his horse to the left side of the army formation, his scimitar held horizontally in front of his saddle, his eyes fixed on the approaching cloud of dust to the west. Two hundred matchlock muskets against one hundred cavalrymen—no matter how fiercely the Han army charged, a group would fall to the muzzle of the guns first, and there would be another one hundred cavalrymen waiting to cover their retreat.

We have a significant advantage; we can win this battle.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the knife hilt. He silently repeated the phrase three times in his mind: "Can fight, can fight, can fight."

On the city wall, Old Liu was leaning against the crenellations, panting. The arrow was still stuck in his shoulder. He glanced to the west, and the knife in his hand clattered to the ground.

He ripped the Shanyang County flag from the crenellation, strapped it to the shaft of his spear, and stood up, waving it frantically westward. "Master! Young master! Look! Han cavalry! The Han army's soldiers are here!"

Wu Ancheng climbed up from behind the crenellations, leaned on the city bricks, and looked out. He saw the dregs-colored cavalry pressing in from the west, their hooves kicking up turf.

Tears welled up in Wu Ancheng's eyes instantly, and his blood boiled. He slammed his goose-feather saber against the crenellation, turned, and shouted towards the city wall, "The soldiers are here! Wu family members, if you have any guts, stand up! Shoot these demons to death! Kill them!!"

Upon hearing that reinforcements had arrived, chaos erupted on the city wall. Archers hiding under the crenellations crawled out, drew their bows, and shot without a care for accuracy.

Wu Jianxiong, leaning against the battlement, had the bullet embedded in his helmet and a large bruise on his forehead. Upon seeing the Han army's formation, a look of worry crossed his face, and he muttered, "How come there are only a hundred cavalry? Can they win?"

The Han army was almost at the city walls. Huang You scanned the battlefield from his horse and immediately saw through the Russians' plan: two hundred men dismounted and formed a musket formation, with one hundred cavalrymen as backup, waiting for him to charge in.

He had seen this tactic far too many times on the front lines of the Ural Mountains. Without slowing down his horse, he flicked his sword and pointed it at the dark mass of cannon fodder soldiers at the foot of the city wall.

"Brothers, the Rakshasa demons have set up a turtle formation to wait for us, but we're not going. Let's first cut down that group of unarmored cannon fodder at the foot of the city wall."

One hundred riders roared "Kill!" in unison, their horses all turning towards the city wall. The momentum of the Han army charging at full speed was a million times more terrifying to these cannon fodder soldiers captured from Siberia and the Turkic steppe than the back of a sword from the Russian supervisory team.

Because they really wanted to kill them.

One of the Kalmyks was the first to break down. He threw his spear on the ground, turned and ran. He took two steps, tripped and fell, got up and kept running without looking back.

Then came the second, the third, and the fiftieth, nearly a thousand cannon fodder soldiers who scattered in a flash when the Han cavalry charged within thirty paces of them.

Some ran towards the Russian army's lines, some ran towards the steppe, and some lay prone on the ground with their hands covering their heads. A few Cossack mercenaries, forming a task force, even tried to stop the fleeing soldiers with the backs of their swords, but the swords struck their faces and did not stop them; instead, they were swept away by the fleeing soldiers.

Some ran towards the Russian army's lines, some ran towards the steppe, and some lay prone on the ground with their hands covering their heads. A few Cossack mercenaries, forming a task force, even tried to stop the fleeing soldiers with the backs of their swords, but the swords struck their faces and did not stop them; instead, they were swept away by the fleeing soldiers.

The Russian noble generals stood in front of their troops, watching helplessly as Huang You led his cavalry, cutting through the scattered cannon fodder like a knife through butter.

He had prepared a musket formation for half a day, but he hadn't fired a single shot. The fleeing soldiers were charging towards his formation.

He suddenly realized something: he had been waiting for the Han army to come and run into his trap, but the Han army had no intention of doing so. They went around to attack his weakest point, and after scattering the cannon fodder soldiers, his siege force of more than a thousand men was reduced to only three hundred cavalrymen. Thirteen hundred men against one hundred cavalrymen, he originally had a great advantage, but now, in the blink of an eye, all the advantages were gone.

"Mount up! Everyone, mount up!" He practically screamed these words. Now, all he could do was gather his cavalry and fight the Han army to the death.

Huang You then slashed down the last Cossack mercenary who was still running, before reining in his horse and glancing back at the Russian army formation.

"Keep charging forward with me!"

With Huang You's roar, his Kazakh black horse reared up, taking advantage of the momentum from its previous full-speed charge, without slowing down in the slightest. A hundred Han cavalrymen followed closely behind, the Ili horses puffing out white breath as they charged headfirst into the Russian cavalry formation.

At this moment, the three hundred Russian cavalrymen had long been completely blocked by the scattered cannon fodder. Hundreds of fleeing soldiers cried and pushed each other, frantically trying to squeeze into their own army's formation.

The warhorses were startled and neighed, rearing up. The soldiers were either knocked to the ground by the fleeing troops or desperately reined in their horses to dodge, and the formation was in complete chaos.

Forget about urging their warhorses to accelerate and charge, they could barely move forward even half a step. The densely packed men and horses were stuck in place, and could only futilely wave their weapons to drive away the fleeing soldiers, completely losing the most lethal mobility and momentum of cavalry.