My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

Just then, Zhu Cilang reined in his warhorse and stopped at the edge of the open space.

He turned to face Abuna, his smile fading, replaced by a solemn expression as if he were about to display a national treasure.

He spoke loudly, his voice carrying far across the open snowfield:
“Abnai, as the saying goes, seeing is believing. Words may be pale, and promises may be fickle. But there is one thing that does not lie, and that is—power! Absolute power!”

He paused, his gaze sharp as he swept over Abunai and the Mongol generals behind him, whose faces held either suspicion or arrogance:

"Today, I will let you see for yourself the true strength upon which my Great Ming army relies! After seeing it, you can weigh the pros and cons: befriending my Great Ming and sharing the benefits of peace; or befriending my Great Ming and enduring the wrath of thunder—which is more important! I hope what you see today will help you make the wisest choice, one that best serves the long-term interests of the Khorchin tribe!"

Having said that, Zhu Cilang ignored Abunai's reaction and turned directly to Li Hu, who was standing to the side, uttering two words crisply and decisively:
"let's start."

"As ordered!"

Li Hu responded enthusiastically, his expression filled with excitement.

He suddenly pulled a specially made, gleaming brass horn from his waist, took a deep breath, his chest bulging, and then blew it with all his might!

“Woo————!!!”

In an instant, a desolate, powerful, and penetrating horn sound tore through the tranquility of the valley, like the roar of a dragon awakening, rolling out in all directions and echoing among the snow-capped mountains! This horn sound was both a signal and an irresistible call and challenge from a new era to the old!
As the long and resounding horn call, seemingly from ancient times, echoed and dissipated over the snowfield, the entire valley seemed to fall into a brief, breathtaking silence.

Abunai and the Mongol generals behind him involuntarily tightened their grip on the reins. Their warhorses, as if sensing the unusual atmosphere in the air, began to snort and paw at each other restlessly, sending snow flying. All eyes were fixed on the direction of the Ming army's camp.

Before the echoes of the bugle call had faded, commotion broke out in the Ming army camp.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The sound of orderly, heavy footsteps, like the heartbeat of a steel behemoth, came from the right flank of the Ming army's position.

A mixed formation of about three thousand men, like a precision component peeled from a steel jungle, moved with impeccable steps, advancing slowly from the main army with a breathtaking order and solemnity, to the short, powerful commands of officers at all levels, towards the open space in front of the pre-designated training ground.

The team quickly formed several neat, three- to four-row-deep line formations at the other end of the training ground, about two hundred paces away from where Abunai and the others were standing on the hillside.

The muskets on their shoulders reflected a cold, eerie luster in the bleak winter sunlight. Compared to the flintlock muskets that Abuna was familiar with, their barrels seemed longer and straighter, and their designs were simpler and more streamlined, carrying a restrained killing intent.

Abnai narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding involuntarily. Here it comes, the firearms demonstration.

He forced himself to calm down, thinking to himself: Even if it's a new musket, so what? He had already experienced the power of the flintlock musket. Although he was still afraid, he wasn't completely helpless. He could only use the mobility of the cavalry to charge at close range at a heavy cost, or take advantage of complex terrain or bad weather...

Just then, in the center of the training ground, a Ming Dynasty flag bearer forcefully waved down the red command flag in his hand.

"Load!"

The movements of the three thousand soldiers unfolded in perfect unison in an instant! The speed was so fast that Abnai could barely see the details! All he could see was their right hands smoothly reaching for the leather ammunition pouches at their waists, taking out a yellowish, finger-length cylindrical object, and their left thumbs snapping on a certain part of the rear of the gun—"Click!" With a soft sound, the rear of the gun barrel opened up like a door!

Immediately, the brass cylinder was inserted with lightning speed, the barrel closed, and a crisp locking sound rang out! The whole process was as smooth as flowing water, completed in one go, taking only two or three breaths! Compared to the tedious process of pouring gunpowder, loading the bullet, and tamping the ramrod for a flintlock musket, it was as fast as a ghost!
"aim!"

"put!"

"Bang! Bang bang bang bang! Bang—!"

Almost the instant the signal flags fell, a rapid, crisp, and explosive barrage of gunfire erupted! Three thousand rifles spat out blazing flames and thick smoke almost simultaneously, creating a deafening and terrifying sonic wave that instantly shattered the tranquility of the snowfield! The echoes of the gunfire collided and overlapped in the valley, lingering for a long time, startling crows in the distant snow forest, which fluttered and flew high into the sky.

Abunai and the Mongol generals behind him instinctively tensed up, and their mounts reared up and neighed at the sudden loud noise.

Abnai's pupils suddenly contracted, and the expression on his face quickly changed from initial vigilance to astonishment, and then to disbelief and horror!

He stared intently at the straw figures and wooden stakes used as targets two hundred paces away! At such a distance, based on his previous understanding of Ming army firearms, this was almost the limit of ineffective range, and the hit rate would be pitifully low. The lead bullets would have already lost most of their kinetic energy by the time they reached that point.

but--

"Puff! Puff puff! Crack! Splash—!"

The sounds of bullets tearing through straw dolls' cotton armor, piercing wooden planks, and even shattering the ice behind them, accompanied by flying bits of grass and wood, came continuously from the target group in the distance!

Although every impact point was invisible, the sight of the target area being swept away by an invisible storm, violently trembling, damaged, and even collapsing, was truly real, happening three hundred paces away! That range! That power!

What terrified Abunai even more was the continuity of the firing! The smoke from the first earth-shattering volley had not yet dissipated, and the muzzle flashes had not even completely died down, yet the three thousand Ming soldiers did not pause for a moment! They repeated the dizzyingly fast reloading maneuver once again.

Open the barrel, load the bullet, lock the bolt, raise the gun! The whole process was as smooth as a machine, giving the enemy almost no time to catch their breath or charge!
"Bang! Bang bang bang! Bang—!"

The second salvo followed immediately! Then came the third! And the fourth!
The gunfire was so intense that it almost formed a continuous, relentless storm of death! One cloud of smoke after another rose, creating a rolling, grayish-white wall of smoke in front of the Ming army's lines, while deadly lead bullets, like hailstones of steel being poured from the smoke wall, rained down relentlessly, accurately, and violently on the target area three hundred paces away!

Those poor targets had long been torn to pieces and were no longer recognizable.

"This...this is impossible!"

Beside Abunai, an elderly Khorchin general cried out in shock, his voice trembling, his face ashen. They were all seasoned veterans, skilled in archery and horsemanship; they knew all too well what this meant!

In the past, when facing flintlock muskets, cavalry could take advantage of the slow reloading time, suffer some casualties, and launch a desperate charge. As long as they could charge within a hundred paces, enter the range of arrows, or engage in close combat, they had a chance of winning.

But this new type of musket... its terrifying range, its astonishing rate of fire! This means that before the Mongol cavalry even reach the edge of the effective range of their old flintlock muskets, they will have to endure several rounds of these ultra-long-range precision strikes!
By the time they reached two hundred paces, they would likely have suffered more than half their casualties, their formation scattered! Meanwhile, the enemy could calmly and continuously fire until all the charging cavalrymen were turned into corpses on the snow! This was not a battle; it was a one-sided, naked massacre! The speed, impact, and mobility that the cavalrymen were so proud of were completely rendered meaningless in the face of this dense and despairing network of fire!

Abunai's hands gripped the cold reins tightly, his knuckles white from the force, his palms covered in cold sweat.

His face was ashen, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

He seemed to see 30,000 Khorchin warriors, like autumn grass swept by a sickle, falling in swathes before such a terrifying metal storm, a tragic scene.

That was no longer a heroic sacrifice, but a pointless death! A chill that penetrated to the bone instantly froze his limbs and bones.

Just as the Mongol soldiers were reeling and nearly terrified, the chilling gunfire that had lasted for several rounds finally ceased. Above the ruins of the targets on the training ground, smoke slowly rose and dissipated, revealing the three thousand Ming soldiers standing like steel sculptures, their guns still emitting wisps of smoke.

They remained silent, regrouped, and then marched back to their base in orderly steps.

Throughout the entire process, apart from the gunshots and commands, there was not a single other sound; the discipline was frighteningly strict.

Zhu Cilang sat upright on his horse, taking in the undisguised shock, fear, and even despair on the faces of Abunai and the others.

His face was expressionless, his voice calm, yet every word struck Abuna's heart like a heavy hammer:

“Abnai, do you see clearly? This is the replacement for the flintlock pistol you saw before, called a ‘rifle.’ It has a longer range, higher accuracy, and a higher rate of fire…”

He paused, his tone carrying an air of self-righteous indifference and superiority.

"As you can see, compared to this, the flintlock musket is like a child's toy. It is no exaggeration to say that if those three thousand soldiers with this gun had taken advantage of the terrain and had plenty of ammunition, let alone the thirty thousand iron cavalry behind you, even if another thirty thousand came, it would only add to their battle merits. In the face of such a weapon, cavalry charges have become a thing of the past."

His gaze was sharp as lightning, fixed directly on Abuna's ashen eyes:

"Now, do you still believe that if my Great Ming Dynasty truly has other intentions, your Khorchin tribe, or even the entire Southern Mongolia, has even the slightest chance of winning? In the face of such an absolute disparity in strength, do your so-called 'what if' and 'worries' seem... ridiculous and superfluous?"

Abnai swayed, almost falling off his horse. The generals behind him were even more ashen-faced, many of them instinctively loosening their grip on their sword hilts, their eyes filled with fear of this strange and terrifying era.

Zhu Cilang's words, though harsh, were the bloody reality they had just witnessed! Any thought of resistance was shattered by the roar of the rifles.

However, Zhu Cilang seemed to feel that this "appetizer" of firepower was not enough to completely shatter Abunai's last shred of hope stemming from "home ground on the grasslands" and "superiority in troop strength".

A meaningful smile curved his lips, as if a cat were toying with a mouse, and he slowly said:
"Do you think that the advantage of rifles, coupled with the vastness of the grasslands and the scattered cavalry, will allow you to maneuver effectively? Or do you think that you can still fight, given the snowy weather and complex terrain?"

He shook his head, no longer watching Abuna's reaction, and turned directly to Li Hu, who was standing to the side, softly uttering a single word:

"continue."

Li Hu's face flushed with excitement. He took a deep breath, raised the specially made bronze horn again, and blew a horn sound that was even higher and louder, as if it contained some kind of violent power, with all his strength!

“Woo——————!!!”

This bugle call was completely different from the one used to command the infantry. It was longer and more resonant, carrying an ancient and majestic quality, as if it were awakening a primordial beast, and it echoed for a long time in the valley!

Just as the bugle call was about to fade away—

"Long————!!!!!!"

A terrifying roar, indescribable in its depths and resonance, as if emanating from the deepest part of the earth or like ancient thunder exploding in one's ears, suddenly erupted from the depths of the enormous gray tent standing in the center of the Ming army camp! The sound was so loud and so heavy that everyone within a radius of several miles in the valley felt the ground beneath their feet tremble violently!
The snow fell softly, the banners in the camp fluttered, the warhorses reared up in fear and neighed. Many soldiers were caught off guard, staggered a few steps, and looked horrified!
"The earth...the earth dragon has turned over?!"

"Eternal Heaven! Is it an earthquake?!"

"My horse! Hold on!"

The Mongol generals around Abunai were in complete disarray, desperately trying to control their frightened warhorses, their faces filled with terror and bewilderment. Abunai himself was also visibly shaken, his heart pounding in his chest. He gripped the reins tightly, his gaze fixed in horror on the massive tent from which the loud crash had come.

The earth continued to tremble slightly and rhythmically, accompanied by increasingly loud and dense rumbling sounds, as if an ancient ferocious beast imprisoned in the tent was frantically ramming against its cage, eager to break free!

"What's going on?! What's inside that tent?!"

Abner's voice trembled without him even realizing it.

As if in response to his shock, the next second, a scene that would be unforgettable for everyone, worthy of being recorded in history, and subverting all understanding, suddenly unfolded!

Suddenly, the canvas of the huge tent, which was four or five zhang high and looked like a small mountain, facing the training ground, was torn apart from the inside by several huge steel "arms" with sharp, horn-like fronts that gleamed with a cold metallic luster!
The sturdy canvas made a teeth-grinding, tearing sound, as if it were being easily ripped and torn apart like fragile paper! (End of Chapter)