Chapter 817: Skirmish
The skirmish officially began.
Clashes between scouts were the most crucial phase in expanding one's own reconnaissance range while compressing the enemy's. Whichever side had the stronger scouts gained a significantly broader "field of view."
The Manchu scouts had always been as formidable as the Ming army's, if not more so. With their numerical advantage, the Manchu scouts felt invincible.
The two sides rapidly closed the distance.
A border soldier from Guyuan reached for his cavalry carbine, but Lao Nanfeng barked, "Don't use your firearms! You'll scare them off. Draw them closer, then kill them."
The soldier understood, abandoning his carbine to draw his Kaiyuan bow instead.
Both parties swiftly galloped within arrow-shot range.
Lao Nanfeng made the first move, unleashing an arrow that whistled straight for the Manchu scout's face.
The scout, however, executed a swift maneuver, tucking his body behind his horse's flank to effortlessly evade the arrow. Then, with a fluid roll, he was back in the saddle, firing an arrow in retaliation.
Lao Nanfeng cried out in agony, collapsing onto his horse's back...
The warhorse carried his "corpse" onward, galloping madly.
The Manchu scout burst into laughter. "A soft Han dog dares to play at archery with me?" he jeered.
Meanwhile, the other nine Manchu scouts were showering arrows upon the remaining five Guyuan border soldiers. The five struggled to evade the volleys, roaring in anguished fury, "Brother Nanfeng... Brother Nanfeng..."
The Manchu scouts howled with laughter.
Just then, the warhorse carrying Lao Nanfeng's "corpse" crashed directly into the Manchu scout's path.
One Manchu scout reached out to grab the reins, intending to "confiscate" the warhorse for himself.
The very instant his hand extended, the "corpse" on the horse's back suddenly sprang upright. With a flash of his scimitar, he chopped off the Manchu scout's outstretched arm with a sickening thwack.
The Manchu scout shrieked in agony as blood gushed from his severed limb.
Lao Nanfeng let out a roaring laugh. His blade flashed again, slicing directly into the Manchu scout's neck. A large head, severed cleanly, soared a meter high. As it tumbled, it spurted blood, drenching Lao Nanfeng's face and hair.
Lao Nanfeng grinned, his red-splattered face revealing a mouthful of white teeth, a truly terrifying sight. "First blood in this battle, mine again! Hahahaha! The Heavenly Lord will surely reward me with another movie!"
With that move, he, horse and rider, had plunged straight into the heart of the Manchu scout squad, instantly putting him in a perilous one-against-nine situation.
But Lao Nanfeng was utterly fearless. His blade whirled like a tempest in his hand, ringing as it parried a saber swung by a nearby scout.
Their horses clashed and then separated, instantly widening the gap.
From behind, a bowstring twanged. A Manchu scout had fired an arrow, aiming for a vital spot on his back.
Yet Lao Nanfeng ignored it entirely, not even bothering to dodge. The arrow struck his armor with a ringing clang and was deflected.
He turned back, roaring with laughter. "You can't play archery with *this* old man! You have to play with blades! Hahahaha!"
Only then did the Manchu scouts realize: this man looked like a light cavalryman, clad in simple cloth, but beneath his clothes, he wore armor—and not mere soldier's armor, but the fine, heavy plate of a general.
"Aooooh! Cut him down!"
The nine scouts charged forward, spurring their horses to attack.
"Twang!" A bowstring rang out in the distance. An arrow from a Guyuan border scout arrived, piercing a Manchu scout with a wet thud.
The scout cried out in pain, his focus shattering.
In that fleeting instant of distraction, Lao Nanfeng sharply twisted his body, his blade flashing as he sent yet another head spiraling into the sky.
"Where are you looking? Your opponent is *me*!" he roared with laughter.
"Clang! Clang!"
With two swift parries and a counter-move, Lao Nanfeng burst out of the scout encirclement once more.
At that moment, the other five Guyuan border scouts also closed in.
Eight Manchu riders remained.
Eight against six!
With the advantage on their side, how could the Manchus possibly lose?
The eight hadn't even considered fleeing. They roared defiantly, still intent on fighting.
Then, one of the Guyuan border scouts suddenly unslung a cavalry carbine from his back.
The Manchus froze for an instant. "A firearm?" they muttered.
"Bang!"
The carbine, surprisingly, wasn't loaded with a single lead bullet, but several small lead pellets, wrapped in a paper cartridge. When fired, these pellets would scatter wildly.
This weapon had an extremely short range, making it of little use to the Gao Family Village rifle infantry. However, it was remarkably effective for cavalry, who could easily charge close to the enemy before firing.
With a single blast, the Manchu scout was instantly riddled like a sieve. His face and chest were peppered with countless small lead pellets. Blood gushed from multiple wounds; he couldn't even groan. His warhorse, its face also struck by bullets, collapsed sideways.
Man and horse, together, crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Lao Nanfeng clicked his tongue. "You even damaged the horse! This gun is unusable! What a bloody waste! Enemy warhorses should be seized for—" He broke off abruptly.
He hadn't even finished his thought when two Manchu sabers swung at his face.
Lao Nanfeng parried left and right, neutralizing both blades. The three horses then rushed past each other, requiring a wide turn to re-engage.
In the split second they passed, Lao Nanfeng swiftly drew his own cavalry carbine. Without even aiming, he fired backward over his shoulder.
"Bang!"
Another Manchu scout's back was riddled, but his horse only took a bullet in its flank. The animal shrieked in pain but didn't fall, instead bolting forward, carrying the scout's lifeless body.
Lao Nanfeng burst into uproarious laughter. "Thrilling! Blasting holes in enemies in the blink of an eye! I absolutely love this damn weapon!"
A subordinate yelled, "Brother Nanfeng, you just said this gun was unusable because it would harm the horses!"
Lao Nanfeng scoffed, "Did I say that?"
His subordinate insisted, "Yes, you did!"
Lao Nanfeng declared, "The hell I did not!"
In a mere instant, only six Manchu scouts remained.
Now it was six against six!
The advantage was no longer theirs.
Fear gnawed at the Manchu scouts.
Their captain roared, "Retreat! Go back and warn the siege force that Ming reinforcements have arrived! They possess strange firearms; the siege force must be wary!"
The remaining six riders immediately scattered in six different directions, fleeing in disarray.
"Pursue!"
Lao Nanfeng spurred his horse, giving chase to one of them.
The other five riders also quickly chose an enemy scout to pursue.
Such was the nature of a skirmish: it often devolved into a chase, with one side fleeing and the other pursuing. Scouts were not expected to fight to the death; their most crucial task was to relay information back to their command.
"You're not getting away from *me*!"
Lao Nanfeng drew his bow, nocking an arrow. He fired, striking the fleeing scout precisely in the nape of the neck. His archery was astonishingly accurate, a sight to behold.
Elsewhere, with several "Bang! Bang! Bang!" blasts, the Guyuan border scouts' cavalry carbines roared. Fleeing Manchu scouts tumbled from their horses.
Only one rider remained, still galloping wildly ahead...
The Guyuan border scout pursuing him had already discharged his carbine and had no time to reload. His horsemanship was also inferior to his opponent's, and it seemed the last Manchu would surely escape.
Free reading.
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