While the battle raged on, Abatai, who was supervising from the rear, was sweating profusely. As the seventh son of Nurhachi, although Abatai was not as outstanding as the five ministers and the four beilei, he was still a fierce general who had fought many battles. But today's battle was unprecedentedly cruel, especially for the Jurchen and Mongolians.
The appearance of 30,000 Han soldiers on the grasslands was like a provocation, enraging all the Mongolians gathered in Qingcheng. The grasslands was their territory, their home for hundreds and thousands of years. They could not accept the appearance of the Han. In their rage, the Mongolians launched a fierce attack without thinking.
The 30,000-strong Han army was split into the left and right, forming a wide formation. In the eyes of the Mongolians, this formation lacked mobility and was not sturdy enough. As long as they gathered enough men, they could break it in one charge. They were all too familiar with the defensive chariot formation of the Han. This was just the old and useless chariot formation of the Ming Army, not much of a threat.
The hundreds of thousands of Mongolians gathered in Qingcheng were here to make a fortune. Whenever their lives were bad and they had no food or clothing, their first thought was to go south and rob. They had no qualms about killing and arson. This was a cultural tradition, a memory from ancient times, which was carried forward during the reign of Genghis Khan. Benevolence, righteousness, and morality were not in their consideration.
Get on the horses, charge, and kill all the Han soldiers!
Amin appointed Abatai to supervise the Mongolians, but Abatai did not need to say much. He saw with his own eyes Aoba, the subordinate of Khorqin tribe's Tuxetu Khan, charge forward. This Mongolian beilei was extremely brave. Behind him were the warriors of Zarut, Naiman, Aohan, and Karaqin tribes. Even his brother Degler, who was following behind him, charged forward excitedly.
Tens of thousands of horses galloped on the battlefield. Countless Mongolian cavalrymen launched a fearless charge, causing dust to rise from the grasslands. Experienced herdsmen saw the dust and knew that an army was launching an attack, and they would be scared out of their wits.
There were not many Han soldiers. Although they were all riding on very tall horses, they quickly retreated in front of the invincible Mongolian cavalry. They did not dare to stop them. Watching from behind, Abatai burst into laughter. He really wanted to personally charge forward and teach those bold Han people a lesson.
That brave Ao Ba Er Fu was a fearless man. As the honorable Horqin Baylor, he led a thousand of his men to charge at the frontlines. Abatai watched from behind as he bypassed the front of the Han formation, went behind it in one breath, and then fiercely rushed towards the Han chariots.
When they were still 200-300 meters away, the Han soldiers hiding behind the vehicle formation started to fire their cannons. This stance was exactly the same as the Ming Army. Abatai has seen the firearms of the Ming Army. They can't even scare people from afar. They can only listen to the sound.
Ao Ba Er Fu was a smart man. He had led his troops to run far away from the Hans in order to lure them into opening fire. By the time the Hans were done fighting, the firearms in his hands had naturally turned into fire sticks and were completely useless. After running for two rounds, he would officially begin his charge!
Abatai clapped and cheered for Aoba at the back, and his palms were already red. A series of gunshots suddenly came from the back of the chariot formation. The gunshots were about fifty feet away, and there were quite a number of Mongolian leaders who led the charge. Many of them were shot to the point that their spiritual energy defense exploded, and a large number of normal Mongolian cavaliers fell while they were running.
Abatai's applause stopped abruptly. He craned his neck to watch, only to see Bama's horse suddenly raise its hooves and almost throw Bama off the horse's back. Aoba, on the other hand, seemed to have been hit a few times, but he managed to withstand it with his strong cultivation. It could be seen that this Tushetu Khan was very angry, furious. He forcefully suppressed the horse that was jumping around and urged it to charge again.
Once a charge was launched, it was difficult to stop. Even if there were casualties in front, the people at the back had to speed up. While Bama was beaten to a halt, a large number of Mongolian cavaliers charged past him and continued to attack the Han's chariot formation.
It only took two to three breaths to cover a distance of dozens of meters. The horses had already reached their maximum speed, the short bows were already pulled taut, and the scimitars were already swung. All the Mongolian cavaliers even adjusted their breathing, waiting for the moment they could crush the Han.
Bang, bang, bang …
Another concentrated volley of gunshots.
Another concentrated volley of gunshots.
Another concentrated volley of gunshots.
Every few shots, thick white smoke would come out from the back of the chariot formation. And every time the white smoke came out, a large number of Mongolian cavaliers who were charging forward would fall. From fifty meters to forty meters, from forty meters to thirty meters, from thirty meters to twenty meters. Every step forward was accompanied by blood and horses that fell to the ground.
The swarm of Mongolian cavaliers did not reduce, but the volley of gunshots behind the chariot formation did not weaken either. When Aoba sped up again, he was stunned to find that there were seven or eight corpses in front of him. Some horses lost their riders, some riders fell to the ground, and some people and horses died. The ground was filled with screams and neighs.
'What's going on?
Why is the volley of gunshots never ending? '
When Aoba got closer, he saw that all the chariots were filled with spearmen. The spears that were thrust upwards stopped the Mongolian cavaliers from getting closer. When he was twenty meters away from the chariot, he drew his bow and nocked an arrow. An arrow flew out and hit the chest of a spearman. But when that person fell, someone else immediately took his place. This number of casualties was not enough to shake the Han army's morale.
Instead, hundreds of Mongolian cavaliers in front of the chariot formation had fallen, and their corpses were strewn all over the ground.
Aoba was so angry that he screamed. He squeezed his horse's belly and wanted to turn around. Hundreds of casualties was nothing to the hundreds of thousands of Mongolian cavaliers. He was furious and wanted to organize another attack. But when he turned around, he was the only one left in front of the chariot formation. The Mongolian cavaliers who charged at him fiercely just now either fell or retreated. Hence, the volley of gunshots were all aimed at Aoba.
Bang, bang, bang …
At least a hundred flintlock guns were aimed at him. Aoba's horse was the first to fall, and he was flung away. Then, Aoba's protective aura was also weakened. Blood splattered on his body. This man with bronze skin and iron bones could not help but let out a few screams.
Abatai was stunned by the sudden turn of the battle. He quickly sent his men to gather the scattered Mongolian cavaliers again. But the cavaliers who charged forward were still in shock and ran far away. Fortunately, there were more cannon fodder who did not know what was going on behind them and could continue to charge.
But the soldiers were easy to deal with, but the generals who could charge were troublesome. Aoba, who was the bravest just now, fell on the way back. He was half-kneeling with his head lowered. Was he dead or not? In addition, a few Mongolian cavaliers kept bringing bad news to him.
"Badalitaiji of the Karaqin tribe is dead."
"Dolji Bele of the Bahrain tribe is dead."
"Darkhan Teji of the Zaruth tribe and his son are dead."
The wave of charge just now did not even touch the enemy's chariot formation, and the damage did not seem to be much. But the Mongolians themselves were dying one after another, and many tribal leaders were also killed.
But there was no reason to retreat. Hearing the bad news, Abatai immediately gave up the idea of an easy victory. He gritted his teeth and shouted: "Continue to charge, or the people in front will die in vain."
The charge was organized again, and the number of Mongolian cavaliers was even more than the first wave.
They slowly gathered and swarmed from all directions, hoping to crush the Han army in front of them with their advantage in numbers. The two waves were connected very quickly, and it really gave people an overwhelming sense of passivity. When the scattered impact entered the range of two or three hundred meters, the chariot formation on the opposite side opened by itself.
The sudden opening shocked Abatai. He did not think that this was a move by the Han people to surrender, but he could not stop the charging Mongolian cavalry in front of him, because everything happened too fast, and it was useless to shout a few times. He could only watch as a large number of Mongolian cavaliers excitedly rushed towards the opening.
"They are dead." Abatai had already determined the outcome, but he could do nothing about it.
The Mongolian cavaliers who saw the opening were like sharks that saw blood, and swarmed over. They launched the attack to open a gap in the chariot formation, and now that the gap appeared, they cheered and gathered. As for what this gap meant, they did not think about it.
Boom! Boom!
Abatai's heart sank. He was hundreds of meters away, and he could not see the fire at the muzzle. But the rumbling of the cannons still made him feel crazy. He knew that behind the gap must be a trap. It could be a pocket formation, a tripping rope, or a large number of horses. But he did not expect that behind the gap was a cannon.
Even if it was a cavalry cannon, it was still a cannon!
Especially the new cavalry cannon, which used a short barrel in exchange for a smaller recoil and a larger caliber to exert the power of a canister at close range. A canister shot out dozens of hard steel balls, and its power was several times greater than that of a matchlock gun.
More than a dozen cavalry cannons deliberately waited for the enemy's cavalry to get close to a distance of dozens of meters before they opened fire. At this distance, the spread area of the canister was just right, and the power was reduced slightly. Any steel ball could penetrate several people, and even a strong horse could be smashed. More than a dozen canister bullets swept out, and the effect of clearing a large area could be seen.
The rumbling of the cannons shocked the battlefield. Wherever the bullets went, people were thrown off their horses, and the ground was covered with blood. There was no exception.
Abatai watched from behind with fear. This time, he could not help but shout to his men, "Blow the horn, blow the horn, go and withdraw the people, withdraw. There are too many casualties like this, and the morale is going to be gone. "
The whistling of the horn sounded melodiously, and it spread far and wide on the bloody battlefield. But how could the Mongolian cavaliers in front of them retreat so easily? Under the bombardment, many people could not stop the speed of the charge. If they tightened the reins, they would only be thrown out because of inertia. If they wanted to turn, they would also collide with the other companions around them.
But the opposite side's cannons would not stop. The light cavalry cannons had a fast critical rate, and every squad of cannons fired with all their strength. Anyway, there was no need to aim. Outside the chariot formation were the enemy's cavalry, so they just kept firing.
The weather in February was still cold and windy, but the artillery was in full swing. They simply took off their military uniforms and shouted slogans to quickly reset the cannons, quickly reload, and quickly fire. After three minutes, the opposite side was covered with corpses, and the Mongolian cavaliers were running like wolves.
This heavy casualties made Abatai grieve at the back, and he beat his chest and stamped his feet. And a servant ran over with fear and trepidation to report an even worse bad news, "Master Abatai, Young Master Degler did not come back."
"What?" Abatai was not sad, but shocked. Degler was his tenth brother, the son of Nurhachi's first wife. He was only 16 years old this year, and he was a brave young man. Today was the first time he participated in a big battle.
Looking at Abatai's face, the servant was so scared that he knelt on the spot, "Young Master just rushed up and disappeared, and we could not follow him. Now the others have withdrawn, but he did not come back. "
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