The Revolt of the Three Feudatories: All-in at the start in Beijing

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Just as Yarha was besieged, Dorgon stood at the edge of the dense forest on the mountainside, spat the grass stems from his mouth onto the ground, and stared at the town below for a long time.

PS: Dorgon means badger, so the two names are interchangeable.

Five hundred wild men from the North Sea were crouching in the woods behind them. Some were gnawing on dry rations, some were sharpening their axe blades with stones, and some were simply dozing off in the pile of fallen leaves.

They had been trekking through the mountains for two days and one night, their feet blistered, but no one cared. The town at the foot of the mountain was too big, bigger than all the small fishing villages they had passed through before setting off, and it had no city walls, no fortifications, and not even a few decent watchtowers.

"Boss," an old hunter squatting next to him patted his leg, "where's next?"

"No matter where it is, as long as there are houses and shops, there are people. And where there are people, there is food." Dorgon pulled a short-handled axe from his waist, resting the blade on his knee. "This town is much richer than the villages we burned before. After we finish this job, the sacks on the brothers' backs will be full."

The old hunter looked down the mountain for a while longer: "It looks quite big; a town this size must have troops stationed there."

"What's there to be afraid of with soldiers? We're here to fight soldiers. Every samurai we kill reduces General Xu's enemy on Honshu Island." Dorgon stood up, turned around, and glanced at the savages of the North Sea lying haphazardly behind him. "Get up, all of you, come and get to work."

One by one, the savages got up from the ground, brushed off the leaves and mud from their bodies, untied the hard bows from their backs and strung them. Dorgon raised the axe above his head, his voice not loud but each word clearly enunciated.

"Charge in, and follow the same old rules: take whatever you want—grain, cloth, ironware, gold, silver—whoever grabs it keeps it; I don't want any of it."

"But here's the rule: kill first, then steal. If anyone's busy stuffing things into their bag and gets stabbed to death from behind by those short guys, don't blame me for not warning you."

"Understood," the five hundred people responded sparsely.

Dorgon swung his axe down the mountain and charged ahead first, followed by five hundred wild men from the North Sea, who surged out from the edge of the dense forest and rushed down the hillside.

They ran extremely fast, their leather boots making a loud clattering sound as they stepped on the gravel and dead branches.

No one called for formation, no one maintained their position, and five hundred people ran in five hundred different routes, cascading down the hillside in a dark, dense mass.

They were making strange noises, their voices rough and short, like a pack of wild beasts grinding their teeth. Several of them, who were at the forefront, had already nocked arrows as they ran.

The castle town of the Akizuki Domain is located at the foot of the mountain. The Akizuki Domain is a branch of the Kuroda family and a member of the Fukuoka Domain. Their stipend is less than 10,000 koku, but they have a good location on the plains west of the Sakishige Mountains. It is the market center of dozens of nearby villages.

After the shogunate reduced the size of the domain, the lord of the Akizuki Domain, Kazuo Kuroda, demolished the castle walls as required, leaving only the castle tower and the town below. The castle tower was not large, with only three stories, but the town below was already very developed, with seven or eight thousand households. There were rice shops, salt shops, blacksmith shops, pharmacies, and even a small shop selling sugar on the streets.

It was afternoon, and there were quite a few people on the street. Kuroda Kazuo was drinking tea in the castle tower. He was of medium height for a Japanese man, with a round face and a round belly.

"My lord, the Jurchens are attacking!"

Just then, a foot soldier leader tumbled into the castle tower. Kuroda Kazuo's teacup slipped, and hot water splashed onto his knees, but he didn't even feel the heat.

How many people?

"Five hundred from the west! They're all coming down from the mountains, armed with bows and axes, and they'll be charging towards the town entrance soon!"

Kuroda Kazuo stood up, his stomach hitting the low table. The teacup overturned, rolled twice, and fell onto the tatami mat. He grabbed the katana from the sword rack, strode down the stairs, and stood at the entrance of the castle tower, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Ring the bell! All foot soldiers, assemble! Bring your bows and swords!"

The bronze bell of the Akizuki Domain rang out with a loud, urgent sound. The people on the street were stunned for a moment, and then the entire castle town was in an uproar.

The vendors overturned their stalls and ran away, scattering dried fish all over the ground. A woman washing clothes by the well dropped her basin, picked up her child, and rushed into the house, slamming the doors shut one after another.

Five hundred foot soldiers ran out of their homes throughout the town. Some were wearing full-body armor, while others didn't even have bamboo armor, and some were even shirtless.

Kazuo Kuroda caught up from behind on the only horse in his household. He was wearing his own black lacquered armor, and his belly made the armor plates bulge outwards. The front of his helmet was a crescent moon painted with gold powder.

"Line up! Line up! Archers in front, spearmen behind! Don't panic! They're just a few hundred wild boars—"

Before he could finish speaking, a volley of long, thick arrows rained down upon him.

The wild men of the North Sea used Han bows, which were further improved by the Ministry of Works of the Han Dynasty. Their range was much greater than that of Japanese bows. Even the arrow shafts were made of Siberian birch wood, which was thick and long, and the arrowheads were three-edged cones forged from black iron.

Most of these 500 foot soldiers didn't even have bodies. The arrows pierced their flesh instantly, and they fell to the ground screaming in agony. Some even had arrows in their chests and fell asleep immediately after being hit.

However, in just one chaotic volley of arrows, thirty men fell into pools of blood.

"Get down! Everyone get down!" Kuroda Kazuo rolled off his horse and hid behind the corner of a rice shop by the roadside. His horse had been shot in the chest with an arrow, knelt down, neighed twice, and lay still.

The second volley of arrows followed, and even more fell. After the third volley, the open ground was filled with howls and screams, and the foot soldiers didn't even dare to lift their heads.

After firing three volleys of arrows, Dorgon slung his short bow over his shoulder, drew the stolen Japanese sword from his waist. The sword was lighter than his short axe, but easier to use. It was light on his feet and unarmored, making it very easy to use. He pointed the sword forward.

"Kill! Leave no one alive!"

Upon hearing the military order, the wild man from the North Sea hurriedly put away his bow and drew weapons of varying lengths—a short-handled axe, a long sword, and a meteor hammer.

They stepped over the corpses scattered on the ground and charged towards the foot soldiers who were still lying on the open ground, howling as they went.

The result was obvious: these foot soldiers were all farmers, none of them even reaching 1.5 meters in height. How could they possibly be a match for the Northern Sea Savages, who were generally 1.7 meters tall?

Dorgon charged forward on foot, swung his katana, and a head fell, blood spurting out.

Kuroda Kazuo peeked out from the corner of the wall and saw his men being slaughtered on one side. Terrified, he retreated deeper into the alley.

The five hundred foot soldiers were hacked down in the open ground in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn before they all scattered. Less than a hundred of them survived, and they all threw away their swords and bows and scrambled into the alley.

The savages of Beihai did not chase after the routed soldiers in the alley. Remembering Dorgon's words, they killed first and then took the loot, so they began to frantically finish off the wounded foot soldiers.