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

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One by one, the messengers gathered in front of Kuroda Mitsuyuki, reporting their respective experiences.

Nothing else happened, but when he heard that the town of Akizuki Domain had been massacred by 500 savages, the whole town had been burned, and that Kuroda Kazuo had been found hiding in the basement of the castle tower by the savages, who chopped off his head with a single blow and stuck it into the railing of the Akizuki Domain castle tower, he immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The entire army of 500 foot soldiers was wiped out, and the townspeople either died or fled, with less than 30% surviving.

Akizuki Domain is gone.

Kuroda Mitsuyuki bent over, supporting himself on his knees, panting several times. He straightened up, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes red and filled with hatred.

The Akizuki Domain was a branch domain of the Kuroda family, not an outsider or a hereditary household; it consisted of members of his own family, many of whom had Kuroda family blood.

In particular, Kuroda Kazuo was his close brother who grew up with him and would come to Fukuoka Castle to pay his respects every New Year. Now, the castle had been massacred, and his head had been chopped off and stuck on the castle tower.

He led his troops to squat at the foot of the mountain for three days, but they didn't even touch a hair of the Jurchens.

"Lord of the domain—" Kuroda Hachizaemon wanted to say something.

Kuroda Mitsuyuki raised his hand to interrupt him, turned around and mounted his horse. He looked up at the mountain for a while, then turned back to look at Kuroda Matabei. The firelight reflected on his face, making his complexion even redder than the firelight, but his lips were deathly pale.

"Burning the mountain".

"Burn them to death!"

Kuroda Mitsuyuki's voice was calm, but Kuroda Masahiro felt a chill run down his spine after hearing those two words. He had followed Kuroda Mitsuyuki for so many years and had never heard him give an order in such a tone.

"Pile everything that can burn at the foot of the mountain—vegetable oil, pine resin, gunpowder—as much as you can."

"Also, withdraw all one thousand arquebusiers to the foot of the mountain and surround me. The cavalry will continue to circle the foot of the mountain. Anyone who charges out, dead or alive, will be killed."

"After setting the fire, no one is allowed to take prisoners. I want them to be burned alive on the mountain."

The last few words were almost shouted out by Kuroda Mitsuyuki. Kuroda Hachizaemon opened his mouth, wanting to say that there were still Japanese women who had been abducted up the mountain, but he glanced at the blood and foam that Kuroda Mitsuyuki hadn't wiped clean from the corner of his mouth and shut his mouth.

Upon receiving the order, three thousand foot soldiers began piling firewood at the foot of the mountain. The people of Kuroda Castle were conscripted to help, pushing carts to transport bundles of dry firewood, straw, and pine chips down the mountain.

The foot soldiers brought out all the vegetable oil they could find in the city and smashed it one jar after another on the woodpile, the oil seeping into the dry firewood and glistening with oil.

The musketeers took out their gunpowder canisters, uncorked them, and sprinkled some of the gunpowder into the gaps in the woodpile.

There hasn't been a drop of rain in the last few days, and the bushes and weeds on the mountain are a bit dry. After the torches were stuffed into the woodpile from a dozen points, the flames quickly leaped out from the dry grass.

When it comes into contact with burning material, it suddenly bursts up, turning into an orange-red wall of fire, and within fifteen minutes it becomes a sea of ​​fire, pushing upwards from the foot of the mountain, leaving thick smoke rising wherever it goes.

As the fire reached halfway up the mountain, the sun had just completely set, and the sky began to darken, leaving only the glow of the wildfire.

Kuroda Mitsuyuki, mounted on his horse, gazed at the sea of ​​fire leaping up the mountainside and burst into laughter. He had never laughed like that before; his voice echoed across the empty foothills, sounding more like a wail than tears.

"In that case, they should all have been burned to death. This can be considered as a way of avenging some of the blood debts owed to the Kuroda family."

Kuroda Matabei, standing to the side, had been gazing towards the mountainside for a long time, his brows gradually furrowing.

"My lord, the fire has been burning for at least an hour. The entire Takatori Mountain, from the foot to the middle, has been engulfed in flames. The people on the mountain should have made a move by now—either screaming or rushing down, but there is nothing here."

Kuroda Mitsuyuki's smile froze for a moment.

He's not stupid. Kuroda Matabei's words suddenly jolted him awake.

There was no sound on the mountain. But living people can't be silent. Even if all the Jurchens were hiding on the mountaintop, by the time the fire reached halfway up and the thick smoke filled the summit, some would inevitably rush down. Either they had run away, or they weren't even on the mountain at all.

"All troops—" Kuroda Mitsuyuki had barely uttered two words when a roar came from behind him.

It wasn't just one person, it was a whole group. A roar erupted from the woods behind the artillery corps, less than fifty paces away. After dark, nothing could be seen in the woods; the firelight couldn't reach them. These Jurchens moved silently, sneaking up behind them while everyone's attention was drawn to the wildfire.

Yarkha was at the very front. His face was covered in soot and his lips were cracked, but he moved like a leopard leaping out of the grass, a short axe in his right hand and a long sword in his left, as he charged headlong into the ranks of the arquebusiers.

The arquebusiers, lined up facing the burning forest with their backs to the trees, tried to turn around when they heard the sound, but before they could even straighten their guns, their heads were already flying through the air, spinning halfway before crashing to the ground.

A thousand Jurchen hunters followed Yarha. No one shouted for battle, no one howled. There were only panting sounds and the dull thud of blades cutting into flesh and bone.

The arquebusiers' formation was broken within half a cup of tea's time. At close range, muskets without bayonets are just fire sticks. In addition, the arquebusiers were too short, and the Jurchens were almost invincible once they got close.

Yarha pulled out a third knife from his back and slashed at the artillerymen. His eyes were red from the fire, but there was no bloodlust in them, only a trace of lingering fear.

He almost died on the mountain.

When he discovered that Kuroda's army was piling firewood at the foot of the mountain in the afternoon, he knew that the enemy was going to burn the mountain. He sent out a few old hunters to walk around the ridge and found that the east ridge and the west slope were completely blocked. If they rushed down the mountain, they would run straight into the muzzle of the arquebus.

He pondered for the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea before making a decision: to drive all two hundred-plus Japanese women he had abducted to the slope halfway up the mountain, and have them wear burlap sacks and roll around in the fire before it got too big to fight it off.

He, along with a thousand Jurchen women, followed lightly behind the Japanese women. Taking advantage of the brief moment before the fire walls closed and the thick smoke obscured the view below the mountain, he squeezed out through the only remaining gap between the two fire walls.

After descending the mountain, Yarha did not run ahead, but instead circled around to the back of the arquebusiers.

A Jurchen centurion followed Yarha, hacking and slashing, muttering as he went, "What a pity about those Japanese women; some of them were quite pretty."

Yarha pulled his third knife from his back—his spare short knife, narrow and long with a needle-like tip—and threw down a sentence without turning his head.

"We'll rob the Japanese women later. Let's wipe out these guys in iron armor first."

After saying that, he drew both swords and charged into the arquebusiers.