Chapter 2162 - The Assault

Zhu Si ran the calculations. Even committing the entire company might not guarantee victory. Years of military service had taught him that numbers alone didn't win battles—in confined terrain, too many men created chaos, and chaos meant soldiers trampling each other instead of the enemy. Li Dong's plan had merit. He agreed without hesitation.

They settled on communication protocols. The Composite Company would deploy using the organization established during river transport: Left and Right Detachments. Zhu Si would lead the Left Detachment in a frontal assault while Li Dong took the Right Detachment on a flanking maneuver.

Li Dong assembled his men and outlined the operation in terse sentences.

"We're moving through fishponds and paddies. Anyone who can't swim or refuses to get wet, speak now—we'll swap you to the Left Detachment."

A dozen men—some wounded, others unable to swim—exchanged places with volunteers from the Left.

Li Dong ordered everyone except the Nanyang riflemen to shed their firearms, carrying only spears and machetes. Backpacks and excess gear remained behind. He collected every hand grenade in the detachment and distributed them to the strongest throwers—men with proven scores and steady nerves. Each grenadier received an ammunition carrier.

The grenadiers stowed the grenades in double-ended pouches suspended around their necks for maximum mobility.

"Strip your boots! Roll your trouser legs," Li Dong commanded. "Anyone have tender feet? Not used to going barefoot?"

Laughter rippled through the ranks. "We're peasant-born!" "Never owned shoes growing up!" "Calluses thicker than boot soles!"

"We've all worked the fields—what are a few paddies to us? We'll sneak close and introduce the bandits to our grenades first. Then they can taste our machetes!"

After Li Dong's final instructions, he led his troops into the woods, circling westward to evade the bandit sentries positioned on the hills. Meanwhile, Zhu Si had his men deploy the firearms Li Dong had left behind—accuracy didn't matter; a concentrated volley would serve its purpose.

"Elevate these pieces! Target the village entrance and both flanking hills," Zhu Si ordered quietly.

The distance from their position to the village entrance measured roughly five hundred meters—far beyond the effective range of their motley weapons. Elevating the barrels might extend range, but the projectiles would spray like buckshot. Precision was a fantasy.

Still, even imprecise projectiles retained lethality. Against a dense formation, saturation fire could inflict devastating casualties.

A red rocket suddenly streaked across the darkening sky—Mi Longtao's signal. His forces were in position. Zhu Si gave the order:

"Fire!"

Three twelve-pounder mountain howitzers roared in sequence. Through the billowing white smoke, soldiers watched black iron balls trailing red sparks and smoke arcs as they struck the village entrance street. Soil, timber fragments, and debris erupted skyward. The barricade blocking the road disintegrated instantly. Through the haze, human figures scrambled.

The miscellaneous firearms erupted in a ragged staccato. This time the soldiers saw nothing—white gunpowder smoke engulfed the entire forest. Zhu Si stood on the hilltop, telescope pressed to his eye, watching the village entrance with mounting tension.

The entrance and flanking hills disappeared beneath thick smoke, punctuated only by flickering muzzle flashes. Zhu Si swung his glass toward Li Dong's approach vector, anxiety gnawing at him.

Despite having three mountain howitzers, his ammunition stocks were pathetically limited—only twenty-four shells and propellant charges total. As contingency reserve, he needed to retain at least one-third. That left precious little for preparatory fire. Zhu Si ordered the artillery to fire three rounds, then the charge would commence.

If the shells and firearms failed to completely suppress the bandits, then rushing the village meant hand-to-hand fighting—the true test of troop cohesion and morale since time immemorial. Unfortunately, Zhu Si possessed absolutely zero confidence in that equation.

"Where the hell has Li Dong gotten to?" he muttered, frantically sweeping his telescope for the Right Detachment's signal.

To avoid detection by bandit sentries, Li Dong led the Right Detachment in a rapid leapfrogging advance westward—over a hundred meters—before entering the hills and circling toward Lizui's flank. He chose his route with surgical precision, avoiding country paths and field ridges entirely. Instead, they cut straight through the paddies, "frog-jumping" from one hill to another, using mulberry hedges along fishponds as concealment while steadily closing on the village.

The Right Detachment's rapid flanking maneuver appeared to go unnoticed. Barefoot and lightly equipped, the soldiers traversed muddy paddies without hesitation. When they encountered streams, they simply swam across. Before long, they had reached Lizui's western approach.

The hills west of Lizui proved more precipitous than expected—"cliffs" rising seven or eight meters, though in reality merely steep slopes of perhaps sixty degrees. One could scramble up barehanded by grabbing vegetation. Looking upslope, Li Dong saw fruit trees interspersed with mulberry stands—lush and dense cover.

"Luo Mao!" he called softly.

"Here!"

"Take a few men up first. Scout it out. If there are sentries, take one alive."

"Roger!" Luo Mao nodded, casually passing his rifle to another soldier before leading several men up the slope using hands and feet.

Moments later, Luo Mao's head appeared above, signaling all clear. He threw down a rope. The Right Detachment soldiers seized it and swarmed upward in rapid succession.

Li Dong climbed first. Luo Mao whispered his report—two bandit sentries stationed there. One dead, one captured.

The prisoner was brought forward immediately. Li Dong assessed him: tall but emaciated, hair wild, clothes shredded beyond description. Hands bound behind his back, the man exhibited none of the swagger expected from a Greenwood outlaw. Instead, he cowered, refusing to meet Li Dong's gaze. Li Dong had encountered countless bandits during the campaign. Though their faces varied, their ragged, slovenly appearance seemed stamped from a single mold. Contempt mixed with unexpected pity stirred in his chest. What kind of banditry was this...

"How many men in the village?"

"Two hundred... over two hundred..."

"Why are you holed up here?"

"Didn't dare move during daylight—afraid we couldn't escape. Hiding here waiting for darkness."

"Han or Yao?"

"Han! Han!" The captive seemed terrified of being associated with the Yao tribes. "Only a few Yao in the group—all using poisoned crossbows..."

Li Dong had many more questions, but the immediate priority was neutralizing the enemy force in Lizui. He pressed on:

"Where are they concentrated?"

"Most of the brothers are around the village ancestral hall. I was sent here to keep watch..." Spotting Luo Mao's gleaming machete, he hurried to add, "Just now they shouted that the... the Ausländer... the grand army had arrived. I saw many brothers rushing to the village entrance."

"Besides that entrance, are there other exits?"

"Over the northern hillock—a small path..."

"Guarded?"

"Yes, yes! Brothers watching every position. I wouldn't dare lie!"

"How many men?"

"Fifty each on the north and south roads, both commanded by chiefs. The head boss is resting with the remaining brothers at the Shenming Pavilion."

Li Dong was preparing another question when a red rocket suddenly pierced the sky—Mi Longtao's signal. The operation was beginning. Moments later, cannon thunder rolled from the village's southern approach. Zhu Si had initiated the assault as planned.

No time for further interrogation. "Take him down!"

"Grandfather, spare—" Before the word "mercy" could escape his lips, Luo Mao crammed a walnut gag into the man's mouth and dragged him away.

"Post someone to guard him. Don't let him die!" Li Dong waved his hand. "All units, move out!"

The Right Detachment ghosted through the hilltop orchard in absolute silence. When the terrain began sloping downward, Li Dong signaled a halt. He personally led several men forward in a low crouch. Below the slope sprawled Lizui's streets and houses. At the base of this very hill, adjacent to the road, the bandits had converted a pigsty into a gun emplacement. Inside, two wooden cannons pointed directly at the southern village entrance. A dozen bandits—armed with swords, spears, bows, and matchlocks—sheltered behind the emplacement, their complete attention fixed on the southern approach. They had absolutely no idea anyone had circled behind the hill.

"Listen carefully." Li Dong gathered the squad and section leaders. "Zhu Si's attacking from that direction now, holding their attention. We have the perfect opportunity to gut them."

The Right Detachment's two squads formed into columns three men wide. The most combat-experienced sergeants and veterans led each squad. Riflemen and grenadiers deployed to the very front, preparing to attack in skirmish formation.

"Upon contact: riflemen fire two volleys first, then grenadiers throw a wave of grenades. After that, the entire unit charges in column. Be vicious. No hesitation whatsoever!"

After finalizing the combat plan, he drew his command saber and whispered: "Everyone ready. On my command! Advance!"

Both squads' riflemen passed through the orchard first and materialized on the slope. Then the soldiers in the first three rows of each column leveled their spears and marched through the trees in disciplined unison. Li Dong no longer cared whether the bandits below had spotted them. He walked on the formation's right flank, glancing backward every few steps, terrified someone might lose their nerve and flee before contact.

The National Army soldiers appearing without warning startled the bandits completely. Some attempted to pivot their cannons around; others rushed to the emplacement's front waving weapons in futile resistance. The Right Detachment's downhill momentum accelerated—almost jogging now as they charged toward the disorganized enemy. The formation stretched slightly, forcing Li Dong to shout "One-two-one!" to slow the riflemen and prevent the column from fragmenting.

As the distance closed, Li Dong realized the emplacement held far more bandits than initially estimated—at least fifty. But the charge could no longer be halted.

His heart hammered against his ribs. He roared, "Fire!" and commanded the troops to accelerate down the hillside.

(Chapter End)