Chapter 558: Muscles Growing in the Brain |
The bandit army outside the city collapsed back toward the west.
Ma Xianglin couldn’t quite believe it; he exchanged a glance with his wife beside him, and both saw in the other’s eyes an expression that said, “Ah, how is this possible?”
The sounds of firearms heard earlier had been incredibly dense; it seemed like a scale that would require several thousand firearms firing in unison.
Could the imperial court within Shanxi have such powerful firearm troops?
He had never heard of such a thing!
Plus, this was a rainy day when firearms were hard to use; the relief force had engaged the bandit army in open terrain without any shelter from the rain, so how were they using firearms?
Ma Xianglin couldn’t help but turn to look at one of his subordinates, a firearm soldier who was holding a Three-Eyed Divine Firearm.
Seeing his leader look over, the firearm soldier awkwardly shook his head.
Ma Xianglin said, “Never mind! I don’t care which rescue force it is—if it helps us push back the bandit army, it’s a good rescue force. Order the entire army to prepare for a counter-attack rush to meet the relief force and bring them into the city.”
The world-renowned White Standards Troops from the river immediately sprang into action.
The main weapon of the White Standards Troops was, of course, the white pole.
This was a long spear made from the white wax tree, its pole exhibiting a distinct white color; at its tip was a hook that could stab or be used to hook enemies for dragging, while at the butt end was an iron ring that added weight, allowing it to serve as a hammer when striking.
When necessary, the hook on the spear’s tip could catch the iron ring on another spear’s butt end, connecting several spears together for climbing rock walls, making it well-suited for mountain warfare.
Because of this unique weapon, the White Standards Troops had gained fame across the land.
Ma Xianglin mounted his white horse; his silver armor reflected the rain droplets, making him look even more dashing than Fan Mountain Hawk. Turning to Zhang Fengyi, he said, “You take charge of the command.”
Zhang Fengyi asked, “Are you handing off command to me again?”
“Hahaha!” Ma Xianglin laughed. “Commanding soldiers is so troublesome. That’s not for me; I refuse to command.”
Having said that, he spurred his horse’s belly and charged out of Puxian first.
Zhang Fengyi shook her head and gave a loud order: “White Standards Troops, follow your commander in chief.”
Two thousand White Standards Troops, wielding white poles, charged fiercely out of Puxian.
…
Meanwhile.
Cheng Xu was still fiercely beating the bandit army.
The soldiers using Sharps Rifles had long since fanned out, adopting a squad formation spread over a wide area and employing free shooting to strike the bandit army.
Meanwhile, large groups of firearm soldiers sporting large bamboo hats and firearms with rain-proof boxes gathered around Cheng Xu, awkwardly loading their weapons.
Their loading of the gunpowder was strenuous; each would use the large hat brim to shield from the rain, then pull the firearm under the brim, point the muzzle skyward, clear away residual powder, take out a pre-measured bomb, pour it into the barrel, and compress it…
As they worked, soldiers cursed aloud: “Instructor He, when can we all switch to Sharps Rifles?”
Cheng Xu ignored them; he was searching for grandmother. Feeling reassured only when he couldn’t spot her face anywhere on the battlefield.
But Old Nan Feng laughed heartily: “Good weapons go to the veterans first. You new recruits should master the rifled firearm before anything else.”
A new recruit lamented, “So new recruits deserve to be bullied? They’re already on their fourth shot with the Sharps Rifles, and I’ve just loaded my second.”
Old Nan Feng snapped, “Who the hell told you new recruits shouldn’t be bullied? Back when I first enlisted, I got bullied for fun too.”
Everyone fell silent.
Old Nan Feng continued, “Actually, even if you got Sharps Rifles, you’d still face bullying. Listen up, it’s no matter how high you climb—there’s always someone higher. Otherwise, why would anyone want to be emperor? Yet even an emperor isn’t safe—he still gets bullied by Jurchens, hahaha.”
Everyone remained silent.
Old Nan Feng chuckled effortlessly; he flicked his wrist and deftly loaded a paper cartridge into his Sharps Rifle, then casually fired a “bang” toward the front without caring if he hit anything or even glancing that way. As he loaded the next round, he addressed the new recruits: “In battle, don’t debate over your weapon’s quality or fairness. Whatever you’re holding, trust it and use every bit of its power to save your skin—or else, hehe.”
After saying this, he loaded another bullet and fired a “thud” toward the front, again without looking.
The soldiers sweated, thinking: Is General Nan Feng wasting bullets? He doesn’t even look forward, just firing wildly?
Just as this thought struck them, they noticed Old Nan Feng halt his lecture and utter an “Eh?”: “The imperial officials are charging out.”
Though he was gazing at the new recruits, he had clearly witnessed everything unfolding on the battlefield.
A few new recruits then realized that General Nan Feng was observing all directions and listening to all sounds.
They quickly peered ahead and saw that imperial officials had indeed charged out from Puxian county; a leading general rode a white horse in silver armor, with one eye covered by a patch yet appearing utterly gallant—exuding the aura of Little Ma Chao. In his hand was a white pole gun that darted like a dragon probing the sea; in a single move, he skewered a bandit to the ground.
The white horse neighed as it leaped forward; the general’s white pole gun danced into a blur of shadows, and any bandit crossing his path was instantly toppled.
Old Nan Feng remarked, “Tsk! So it’s him—the chieftain of Shizhu, Little Ma Chao, Ma Xianglin.”
Soldiers asked, “You know him?”
Old Nan Feng shook his head with a laugh: “Not personally, but his fighting style is instantly recognizable. Let me tell you: these days, generals still charging ahead of their troops can be counted on one hand—it’s only Crazy He, He Renlong; Little Ma Chao, Ma Xianglin; and our patrol officer Fang Wushang from Chengcheng County, hahaha.”
At that moment, Cheng Xu—who had been searching for grandmother the whole time—spoke up: “This way of fighting is unacceptable. If a general rushes into combat himself, who’s left to command? If the general gets injured or killed by chance, the army becomes crippled. So this fighting style shows irresponsibility to himself and the entire force.”
Everyone thought to themselves: Instructor He is just finding excuses for his own cowardice.
Old Nan Feng finished loading his firearm once more, but this time he didn’t fire. Instead, he kept his loaded weapon aimed downward at the ground as he roared at Ma Xianglin: “You idiot, with muscles growing in your brain! Get lost! Don’t scatter across the battlefield obstructing our firearm soldiers’ shooting. If I hit you by accident, that’s on you!”