Ma Qiang almost dropped his teacup.
"What did you just say? The militia is attacking Tieshan Ping? They made the first move?"
His subordinate nodded quickly. "Yes, Boss. Strong Shaanxi accent. It has to be those newcors."
Wang Wen sucked in a breath. "Ah. Them. The new arrivals."
Ma Qiang did not flare up. He did not rage.
Instead, he laughed.
"I was just about to go find them. And they've delivered themselves to my doorstep? Excellent. That saves the trouble."
He slapped his thigh and stood. "Co on. Let's greet our guests."
The bandits swaggered toward the edge of the fortress.
This was no ordinary stronghold. It had once been a military encampnt during the era of the Three Kingdoms, when the land was carved into rival states and generals thought three steps ahead of destiny. The n of Shu had chosen this place carefully. Their kingdom was long gone, but their strategic foresight still clung to the soil like old blood in stone.
Tieshan Ping crowned the highest ridge of the cliffs, overlooking the vast flow of the Yangtze River as it rushed southward, slicing through Tongluo Gorge on its long journey toward the eastern sea. To the northeast and west, steep slopes dropped sharply, treacherous and difficult to climb. Easy to defend. Miserable to assault.
The Shu strategists had understood terrain the way poets understood rhythm.
Now that wisdom belonged to bandits.
Ma Qiang stepped to the cliff's edge and narrowed his eyes. Below, a militia force had indeed gathered at the foot of the mountain. Not many. Roughly a thousand n.
Two thousand five hundred bandits on the summit.
One thousand attackers below.
It was not a battle. It was arithtic.
Ma Qiang burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! What exactly are they relying on? Courage? Luck?"
He raised his arm. "Prepare for counterattack. If they climb, we smash them back down. If they don't, we charge downhill and butcher them to the last man."
The bandits roared with approval.
Wang Wen laughed the loudest of all.
They felt like tigers on a cliff edge.
Unfortunately for them, tigers from ancient tis had never seen modern artillery.
---
At the base of the mountain, Cheng Xu stood with a topographical map spread before him. Reconnaissance hot air balloons had already completed a thorough survey of the area and delivered precise charts into his hands.
He studied the map from multiple angles, turning it slowly, then shook his head.
"This mountain is dangerous," he muttered. "The old Shu encampnt already occupies the highest point. Those bandits don't even need brains. Sitting inside the forr Shu barracks automatically grants them optimal defensive positioning."
He sighed softly.
"The brilliance of Shu strategists is now being exploited by thugs. What a waste."
He looked up toward the summit.
"A direct assault would carry at least a fifty percent chance of eting our great-grandmothers."
Cheng Xu did not believe in heroics built on probability.
Fifty percent was unacceptable.
Even one percent was too high.
He only displayed bravery when victory was already certain.
After a long mont of contemplation, fingers stroking his chin, he issued his order.
"No direct assault."
The company commander beside him blinked. "Then what?"
Cheng Xu turned and looked at him with faint amusent. "'Then what'? Have you forgotten which regint we are?"
The commander straightened and saluted sharply. "Gao Family Village First Regint!"
Cheng Xu nodded. "Number One. And what does that an?"
"We enlisted first. We trained hardest. We have the finest equipnt."
A slow grin spread across Cheng Xu's face. "Exactly. Equipnt."
He gestured forward. "Bring out everything."
The commander saluted again. "Understood."
He spun around and barked orders. "Gao Family Village First Regint, First Artillery Battalion, attention!"
The elite gunners stepped forward, eyes already shining with anticipation.
Along the base of Tieshan Ping, they deployed rows upon rows of small short-barreled cannons. Each barrel was no thicker than a man's arm, light enough to be carried by a single soldier, yet capable of extraordinary range.
Yes. Precisely what you are imagining.
Cheng Xu raised his hand and roared, "Blast them."
The artillery battalion commander hesitated only long enough to grin. "Instructor He, we are thrilled. But if we unleash everything like this, the shells will disappear quickly. Won't our First Regint look extravagant?"
Cheng Xu snorted. "Have you forgotten Dao Xuan Tianzun's temperant? If spending ammunition reduces casualties among our own people, no price is too high. But if you try to save money and even one of our soldiers gets scratched, Dao Xuan Tianzun will be displeased for quite so ti."
That settled it.
Everyone from Gao Family Village understood one principle clearly: Dao Xuan Tianzun valued human life far above material expense.
In that case, there was nothing left to debate.
"Open fire!"
"Open fire!"
In the next instant, the mountain shook.
A synchronized roar erupted as dozens upon dozens of short barrels spat fla. From below, a torrent of shells scread upward toward the summit.
---
On the mountaintop, Ma Qiang and his n were still peering downward in mild curiosity. They noticed the enemy fiddling with iron tubes, but no one seed to be climbing.
Then the thunder began.
A collective confusion appeared on every face.
A heartbeat later, the shells arrived.
Boom.
Several bandits scread and collapsed before anyone understood what had happened.
Boom. Boom boom boom.
White smoke blossod across the Shu encampnt as shells rained down in relentless succession, as if ammunition were free and the heavens themselves were angry.
An ancient earthen watchtower, a relic of the Han dynasty, shattered and collapsed in a cloud of dust.
A long stretch of fortress wall from the sa era crumbled like dried bread.
The crude wooden shacks and thatched huts the bandits had built for themselves fared far worse. Splinters exploded outward. Straw scattered into the air. Within monts, the entire mountaintop resembled an apocalypse.
n were struck by shrapnel and thrown to the ground, so never rising again.
Ma Qiang and Wang Wen flattened themselves against the dirt, clutching their heads, trembling.
Unlucky.
And yet, strangely fortunate.
For they had beco among the first people in this world to personally experience what would later be known as firepower saturation.
A historical honor, if one insisted on calling it that.
In future years, had they survived with sufficient shalessness, they might even boast, "Brother, do you know what firepower saturation feels like? I do. I was there."
The bombardnt continued for what felt like an eternity.
When at last the thunder faded, Ma Qiang realized he was buried beneath a thick layer of sand and dust. He rolled over and forced himself upright.
The fortress he had managed for years was gone.
Not damaged.
Gone.
Flattened.
Reduced to debris.
He nudged Wang Wen beside him. Wang Wen coughed, spat dirt, and sat up as well, earth cascading from his shoulders.
"Is it… over?" Wang Wen's voice shook. "What kind of demonic cannons are those? How can they fire from the foot of the mountain and still explode up here?"
Ma Qiang's lips trembled. "It's finished. All of it."
He raised his voice hoarsely. "How many brothers are still alive?"
"Boss… I'm… alive…"
A figure crawled out from beneath broken beams.
Then another.
And another.
One by one, n erged from rubble, shattered walls, collapsed pits. Fewer had died than he feared. Perhaps two thousand remained.
But survival did not an courage.
The bombardnt had crushed sothing far more important than buildings.
It had shattered their will.
A subordinate with hollow eyes pointed downhill. "Boss… they're starting to climb. What do we do? Counterattack?"
And for the first ti since seizing Tieshan Ping, Ma Qiang hesitated.
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