CHAPTER 147: CHAPTER 95: TAKING THE GENERAL’S HEAD FROM AN ARMY OF 100!_2

He held a high status in the Lin Family, and this surprise raid was also led by his father. Seeing him make a decision, that low-ranking Samurai no longer said a word, turned around, and went off to select the "Assault Team."

In this relatively narrow and complex terrain, the ashigaru rabble were basically useless; you couldn’t take the enemy out with just feathered arrows either. It still depended on the long sabers of lower-grade Samurai and veteran Lang Faction members to tear open the enemy’s line of defense.

......

Nozawa heard the enemy’s persuasion for a couple of sentences and then silence, but he paid it no mind. It was impossible to make him hand over his weapons—sure, it’s easy to give them up, but next to impossible to get them back. If anything unexpected happened, he’d be at their mercy; he’d regret it so much he’d want to rip his own guts out.

Rather than surrender and gamble on the enemy’s kindness, he felt more secure relying on himself.

He took this bit of time to hurriedly arrange defenses, assigning people specifically to take care of those buckets of soybean oil—if the situation became irretrievable, they’d set the gate on fire. In the ensuing chaos, however many could escape would escape.

Soon, Lin Zhenzheng launched another attack. This time, the Lin Family’s elite troops came up—stronger and far better prepared than the stragglers and outlaws who’d crept up earlier. From a distance, several volleys of fire arrows lit up the place first, then a large squad of lightly armored Samurai and Lang Faction burst out from the darkness, shouting, using tables and other junk as cover from arrows and iron cannons, and charged rapidly for the South Gate.

Ah Man let out a shout as well and fired first—the iron cannon spat flame, the lead ball blasted out with tremendous force and immediately brought down two men. Stuff like desks and junk couldn’t block the strange trajectory of the iron cannon’s lead shot; sometimes it even made an injured man’s dying agony worse.

The Lang Faction followed up immediately, firing a volley straight at the charging enemies; a rain of arrows brought down several more.

The Lin Family’s ashigaru in the rear fired back at once. Sheets of feathered arrows arced down and struck all kinds of makeshift barriers, a chorus of "tok tok" sounds like woodpeckers at a feast.

Nozawa kept calling out targets, raised his hand and shot down the low-ranking Samurai charging the fiercest. Instinctively, he ducked immediately; an arrow bounced off his helmet, and although it felt like someone had slapped his head with a pillow, he just shook and was fine. He notched another arrow looking for his next target. For a split second, his mind drifted off, pondering for a fraction of a second why the Japanese didn’t like to use shields.

As he loosed the arrow, his thoughts snapped back—the only thing left before him was the enemy.

This time, the enemy’s assault was unyielding. A single strong bow, one iron cannon, and a dozen attached bamboo bows weren’t enough to hold them back. In under a minute, the enemy surged right up to the barricades. Both sides, separated by overturned ox carts, stacked bean sacks, and all sorts of messy furniture, began howling, stabbing, and hacking at each other in a frenzy at the face of death and pumped full of adrenaline.

This was no time to huddle in the back. Nozawa took up his duty unflinching, relying on his height, strength, and fine armor, swinging his iron rod as he charged to the very front. With one sweep, he broke the legs of a subordinate Samurai vaulting over an obstacle. Right behind him, A Qing rushed up—her glaive twisted aside another enemy’s shiny tachi, and with a swift hook and slash, unleashed a rain of blood from that man’s throat, dropping him face-first onto the barricade.

For a moment, the South Gate became a new beast pit, with wounded howling in agony, the dying wailing in despair—people dying, people dropping grievously wounded without pause.

A moment later, the Lin Family failed to overrun the barricades in the first go, nor did they force Nozawa and the others to retreat back through the gate, instead leaving a field of corpses in front of the barricades. By now, Nozawa had stopped caring about the overall battle—he just used his iron armor to absorb stray attacks, swinging his iron rod with everything he had, stubbornly holding down a big chunk of the line.

A Qing stayed tight by his side the whole time, her long glaive flashing so quickly that ghostly after-images danced from the thin, short blade. In complete silence, her cold little face was spattered with dirty blood, the white headband atop her head dyed red.

Ah Man, meanwhile, was shouting commands from behind, gathering five or six Lang Faction who’d tossed their bows and rushed down from the gate tower—actually trying to rally them and counterattack from their foothold.

While commanding, her hands never stopped—jamming powder desperately into her iron cannon, raising it as soon as she finished loading, firing straight at where enemies clustered closest. At such close range, every thunderous shot made several enemies scream in pain and topple, sending terror through those nearby—unable to organize another push or climb over the barriers. Instead, six or seven Lang Faction from Nozawa’s side vaulted the barricade and started stabbing at their foes, with even two men flanking the enemy and stabbing those pressing Nozawa from the front.

The Lin Family threw seven or eight lives at the barricade, but could only hold it for less than a minute before being squeezed out again, and by then they were barely holding their ground. Yet the time bought was enough—Lin Zhenzheng arrived with a large relief force of Lang Faction and ashigaru behind, standing at the rear and commanding loudly.

The arrival of reinforcements immediately reversed the situation—a forest of long spears thrust wildly, dropping several Lang Faction from Nozawa’s side in a flash, forcing them to fall back again and again as the enemy toppled or clambered over the barricades, pushing forward step by step.

With each step, people fell to bitter screams. Nozawa became the key target—a short, stout Lin Family Samurai, also wielding an iron rod and clearly a veteran, smashed aside two of Nozawa’s Lang Faction, then ducked under A Qing’s lethal glaive and got to Nozawa’s flank, swinging his iron rod for Nozawa’s waist and belly.

Nozawa was already reeling from several long spears from the front. By the time he noticed, it was too late—he took a heavy blow to the waist, agony stabbing through his side. His mouth filled instantly with that salty-sweet taste, but the pain only maddened him further. Without a word, he swung his rod at the short Samurai—if he was going to die, he’d take the bastard with him.

The squat Samurai raised his rod to block, both men forced backward by the massive recoil. The short Samurai regained his footing, about to spring again for glory, when suddenly a fierce look in his eyes froze—A Qing’s glaive slid into his neck from the side, and using him for leverage, she spun and shoved Nozawa backward, blocking a saber blow aimed for him in the process.

But now the enemy’s numbers seemed endless—the position was almost untenable. Right at that moment, thunder from an iron cannon and Lin Zhenzheng’s agonized scream erupted behind the enemy, freezing the battlefield in an instant.

Shrieks of shock erupted—everyone saw Lin Zhenzheng’s face blasted to pieces. Ah Man seized the instant, bloodied face and head springing from the heap of corpses, tossed the iron cannon aside, shrieking "Lin Zhenzheng is dead!" as she hurled a cloud of white smoke to confuse the enemy, then dashed and crawled hard for safety—catching only two saber blows to her back as she tumbled away spitting blood.

In war, it always comes down to brains—only those with wits can take a general’s head in the heart of the enemy army!