Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 477 "Blood Bridge" (Part Two)
On the night of September 13th, the "sky bridge" after the tide receded looked like a white cloth soaked in blood, glowing eerily red under the moonlight.

Five thousand Qing cavalrymen were pinned to a sandy embankment less than three hundred meters from the camp. The horses in the front row were futilely pawing at the ground. The crisp sound of caltrops piercing the horses' hooves mingled with their mournful cries, weaving a web of pain in the night sky.

The seawater on both sides of the sandbar was a deep blue, with waves crashing against the shore, their white foam rising as if providing accompaniment to the battle.

Azige's roar tore a hole in the night wind: "Vanguard Battalion! Get through them!"

His dark cloak was soaked with blood, and the tassel of the gleaming sword at his waist was covered in grit, swinging back and forth with the restlessness of his warhorse.

The bannermen of the Bordered Blue Banner were already red-eyed.

They dismounted, the clanging of their armor mingling with the sound of teeth chattering.

Some knelt directly on the sand, using their hands to pry at the antlers and chevaux-de-frise. Sharp spikes pierced their palms, and blood dripped from between their fingers, forming blackish-purple beads in the moonlight.

Countless armored riders followed suit and rushed forward, their fingernails quickly filling with bloody thorns. Some groaned in pain, but no one dared to stop—Ajige's sword was hanging over their heads.

"Keep charging!" Ajige's voice was already hoarse.

He saw the vanguard's dozen or so warhorses charging forward like madmen, oblivious to the piercing of their hooves, leaving a trail of blood in the sand.

Suddenly, the foremost chestnut horse knelt down on its front hooves, and the rider on its back was thrown two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) away, crashing heavily onto a pile of deer antlers.

Sharp wooden splinters pierced his back, splintered with bits of flesh and entrails, while his wide-open eyes remained fixed on the direction of the camp.

"boom!"

Another cannon shot ripped through the night sky.

The cannons on the hillside of the camp spat out tongues of fire more than ten feet long, and solid iron bullets whistled across the sand embankment, carving a bloody trench in the dense cavalry ranks.

Wherever the cannonballs passed, men and horses were annihilated.

A head flew high into the air, and Ajige saw that the ferocity of the charge was still frozen on the face, and the blood droplets on the beard drew arcs in the air.

But the layers upon layers of antlers and barricades in front of them, like a menacing wall of thorns, completely blocked the momentum of the charge.

The Qing cavalry moved slowly and clumsily forward on the "sky bridge," like a group of wild beasts trapped in a jar, each step trampling over the corpses of their comrades.

"Move them away!" Samukha, the chieftain of the Bordered Blue Banner, roared as he dismounted. His fingers had just touched the wooden poles of the chevaux-de-frise when a Ming cannonball struck him, severing his arm. A torrent of blood instantly formed a small puddle on the sand.

The soldiers behind them dismounted one after another. Some used their swords to slash at the deer antlers, while others tried to push over the barricades, but were pulled erratically by the ropes that held them together. The barricades' crossbars were also wrapped with barbed hooks, which would cut their palms if they exerted too much force.

"Faster! Faster!" Ajige roared on horseback, the scabbard at his waist soaked with sweat.

He saw the cannons on the hillside of the camp flashing again, and before the smoke from the cannons had dissipated, a second shell was already whistling in.

The solid projectile grazed the sandbar, the sand it kicked up cutting into faces like knives. It then passed through the Qing army's ranks, smashing several soldiers to pieces. Severed arms flew far away, landing on the heads of their horses, startling them so much that the horses reared up and threw their riders into the icy sea.

"Your Highness! The Ming army's cannons are too fierce!" A Bayara rolled to the front of the horse, the copper studs on his armor gleaming with blood. "This sandbar is bare; we can't even hide!"

His left leg was twisted unnaturally, clearly from being grazed by a stray bullet. His jaw clenched as he spoke, but he dared not utter a sound.

Ajige squinted, and by the faint moonlight, he finally saw the situation ahead.

The Ming army piled up deer antlers at the end of the bridge, which were taller than a person. The barricades were wrapped with oil-soaked hemp ropes, and the outermost layer was stacked with wooden barrels filled with sand, like an impregnable fortress.

Even more terrifying, the barbed wire on the sand dunes gleamed coldly in the moonlight, with broken hooves and flesh hanging from its spikes.

"Dismount! Dismount! Clear the way for me!" Ajige roared. "The vanguard battalion, even if you have to pave the way with corpses, make a path!"

More armored cavalrymen gritted their teeth and dismounted. Some used their spears to pry open the deer antlers and chevaux-de-frise, while others even took off their armor and spread it on the ground for the cavalry behind them to trample over.

But the Ming army's artillery fire did not stop; each roar tore a bloody gash through the Qing army ranks.

"boom!"

Another cannonball came hurtling in and crashed into the Qing army troops who were clearing the barricades.

In an instant, blood and flesh flew everywhere, severed limbs and internal organs splattered on the sand dunes, only to be trampled into the mud by the cavalry charging afterward.

"Keep charging! Don't stop!" Azig roared, brandishing his sword, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the roar of cannons.

As the fourth watch was about to end, the Qing army finally moved to the end of the bridge, less than 120 paces from the Ming army's camp.

However, the antlers here are piled up more densely, with the barricades stacked one on top of the other and wrapped with oil-soaked hemp ropes. Anyone with eyes can see that they have been specially reinforced.

Azige angrily swung his sword and cleaved open the deer antlers on the right side, and then a huge cannon roar came from the direction of the camp.

"Master, be careful!" Before his Bayara personal guard Salian could finish exclaiming, a series of crackling sounds immediately rang out from ahead.

A storm of lead bullets rained down instantly, and the Qing soldiers who were clearing the roadblocks fell like wheat being harvested. Blood mist mixed with broken bowstrings, fallen helmets, and arms still attached to armor plates.

"It's shotgun shells!"

Ajige's mount was hit by a stray bullet, and it fell to the ground with a mournful cry, throwing him far away. His lower back slammed into a wooden splinter of a chevaux-de-frise, causing him pain so intense that his vision blurred and a metallic taste rose in his throat.

"Master!" A guard rushed forward, dragging him back dozens of meters to avoid the Ming army's fierce firepower. "Your Highness, let's retreat!" A Meile Zhangjing from the Bordered White Banner, clutching his bleeding shoulder, poked his head out from the pile of corpses. His left cheek was lacerated by shrapnel, and blood blurred his vision. "The Ming army is well-prepared; we can't break through!"

"Shut up!" Ajige shouted, his eyes bloodshot, ignoring him.

His gaze passed over the layers of corpses, fixed on the dark granary—as long as they charged through, the Ming army at Songshan would run out of food, and they would win the battle!
He slammed his sword down on the armor of the officer in charge of the army, sparks flying: "Anyone who dares to speak of retreat again will be executed!"

"I have never been defeated in front of the Ming army! Charge forward, burn their supplies, and cut off their heads!"

He pointed to the camp just a stone's throw ahead, where Ming soldiers were running around in the firelight, busy arranging their troops and loading ammunition. In the distance, one could vaguely see rows of musketeers holding their muskets, pointing them towards the "Sky Bridge," the barrels gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

"Charge!" he roared, shoving aside the arm of the Bayara personal guard beside him. "The Ming soldiers in the camp are all auxiliary troops, they can't withstand a fight at all, they only know how to fire cannons and guns from a distance. As long as we break through, the Ming army will surely collapse!"

However, the charging Qing troops seemed to have run into an invisible wall.

The cavalrymen in the front ranks were instantly riddled with bullets, their blood mist turning an eerie pink under the moonlight.

A cavalryman with a blue-bordered flag was riddled with bullet holes. His upper body was still in a charging posture. His fingers were digging into the sand as he crawled forward for half a zhang before he died, leaving a winding trail of blood.

When the Qing army vanguard finally reached the camp entrance less than sixty paces away, stepping over the corpses of their comrades, they were met with an even more terrifying attack.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

A dense hail of lead bullets swept across the area like a whirlwind. The Qing cavalry in the front ranks were as if they had been violently pushed down by an invisible hand. Their warhorses neighed and plunged into the barricades, while the cavalrymen were knocked to the ground by the subsequent bullets.

"Ah! My leg!" A soldier from the Bordered Blue Banner screamed as he fell to the ground. His right leg had been broken by a cannonball, the bone piercing through his armor, and blood gushing out.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!..."

Before the charging Qing cavalry could recover from the hail of bullets, the entrance to the camp erupted in deadly flames once more. A sudden storm of metal swept in, and the Qing army's charging ranks fell like wheat being harvested by a sickle, their corpses piling up like mountains, intertwining with the chevaux-de-frise and deer antlers to form a bloody barrier.

"Your Highness! Retreat!" A bannerman from the Bordered White Banner knelt before Ajigema, his face covered in blood and tears. "If we continue charging, all the Eight Banners soldiers will be wiped out!"

Ajige's eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the Ming army camp so close at hand, his teeth grinding together.

Just a little bit, just the last bit!
"No! Keep charging!" he roared, brandishing his sword at the camp. "We're about to break in! The Ming army can't hold on..."

However, the instant he finished speaking...

"boom!"

A cannonball came whistling through the ranks of Ajige's personal guards and slammed into his newly acquired warhorse.

The warhorse was instantly torn in two, and Ajige was thrown into the air, crashing heavily onto the sandbank.

"Your Highness!" Bayara's personal guards rushed over like madmen.

By the moonlight, they saw that Ajige's right leg had been severed from the knee down by a shell, the white bone exposed, and blood gushing out like a spring, staining the sand beneath him red.

His face turned deathly pale instantly, his lips trembled, yet he still gripped the guard's armor tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, struggling to stand up.

“Charge…charge in…” he said hoarsely, but his voice was already as weak as a mosquito’s buzz.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Ignoring his orders, Bayara's personal guards hurriedly lifted him onto his horse and retreated frantically.

Without their commander, the Qing army instantly lost its will to fight, and the rout surged back along the sandbank like an anthill that had been breached.

"We've lost! We've lost!"

"Prince is seriously injured! Retreat! Retreat now!"

The remaining Qing cavalry turned their horses around and fled frantically to the other side of the overpass.

The Ming army's cannons continued to roar, and cannonballs rained down, sweeping down rows of fleeing Qing soldiers.

On the overpass, corpses were piled up like mountains, and blood stained the entire sandbar red.

The barricades and antlers were covered with severed limbs, and the corpses of warhorses lay scattered in pools of blood, some still convulsing. The firelight from the direction of the camp was reflected in their eyes, like two dying candles.

Less than half an hour after the Qing army withdrew, the tide began to rise slowly again. The seawater washed over the sandbar, gradually diluting the bloodstains, but the strong smell of blood lingered for a long time, drifting away with the sea breeze.

When the morning light fully illuminated Bijia Mountain, the Ming army's camp still stood.

Tong Hanbang stood on the watchtower, looking at the mountains of Qing army corpses piled up on the overpass, and let out a long sigh of relief.

His left hand unconsciously rubbed his missing ring finger; the scar glowed a pale red in the morning light, but no longer stung as it usually did.

"We won." He exhaled a long breath, his face beaming with ecstasy.

In the distance, the sound of artillery fire from the direction of Songshan continued unabated.

Tong Hanbang knew that this battle was far from over.

But at least today, the food supplies at Bijia Mountain are still there. The mountains of unpolished rice and fodder can still sustain the Ming army on this blood-stained land.
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(End of this chapter)