Before Dahonglang could even stabilize himself after rolling into the grass, he heard an explosion.
Then another.
Then screams erupted all around the forest.
Several squad leaders dropped instantly.
Dahonglang's mind went cold as he cursed inwardly.
Damn it. It is those strange thunder bombs again.
The same thing from last time.
One blast and it wipes out everyone in the surrounding area.
Damn it.
They still have this weapon.
But then his thoughts quickly stabilized.
Something so powerful could not possibly be many in number.
Last time, during that battle, the enemy only had two giant iron men, and even then they could only throw a couple of those explosive things at a time.
If he thought about it carefully, there was nothing too frightening.
All he had to do was wait for one more explosion wave, then immediately lead his men out for a counterattack.
Yes.
That was the plan.
He had barely finished that thought when the entire forest began erupting.
Boom.
Boom boom boom.
One after another.
Ten explosions.
Then twenty.
The forest turned into a storm of fire and shockwaves.
Screams filled the air without pause.
The bandits, who had just been resting comfortably, were suddenly struck by falling explosives inside their own camp. It was like sleeping peacefully and suddenly getting punched in the face repeatedly without warning.
Who the hell could endure that?
A so-called "hero" leaning against a tree in a very stylish sleeping pose suddenly had his chest pierced by countless iron pellets.
His body shook once and collapsed lifelessly.
Some bandits were lying in the grass, initially in positions that would normally minimize exposure. But the moment they heard explosions nearby, instinct took over.
They grabbed their weapons and jumped up shouting.
"Enemy raid?"
Boom.
Another explosion landed right beside them.
They were blown away instantly.
The bandit formation collapsed completely.
Dahonglang's face turned darker and darker as he watched explosions bloom everywhere like fireflowers.
This many.
This powerful.
They actually have this many explosive weapons.
Do they think gunpowder grows on trees?
What the hell.
Only now did he fully realize.
The enemy was not simple at all.
The man called Chuang Jiang, Name might actually be right.
There was something terrifying backing Bai Family Fort.
A force so deep and unfathomable that they should never have rushed out to confront it so casually.
A surprise attack during sleep was enough to break even elite frontier troops.
Let alone bandits.
After one wave of grenades, the morale of the bandit main force shattered completely.
Chaos spread instantly.
Most of them turned and ran in panic.
But the moment they stood up, their exposed surface area increased dramatically.
And that was all it took.
"Fire musket units, open fire."
Cheng Xu's voice cut through the battlefield like a blade.
Bang bang bang bang.
A full volley of flintlock muskets erupted.
Gunfire cracked through the forest.
Running bandits were hit in the back.
One after another, they fell forward into the ground.
The militia from Gao Village had only ten experienced three-eyed fire lance soldiers who had seen real combat before. The rest were all fresh recruits.
And they were still fresh recruits even after months of training.
After the first volley, they immediately began reloading for the second round.
Only now did they realize something very important.
Training and real combat were not the same thing at all.
During training, reloading was calm.
Steady hands. Controlled breathing. No pressure.
But in real combat, everything changed.
Because now they knew.
The enemy was running.
And if they reloaded faster, they could fire again sooner.
If they fired again sooner, more enemies would die.
And fewer enemies would escape.
That single thought was enough to destabilize even the most polished training routine.
Hands began to shake.
One soldier poured gunpowder into the barrel, but his hand tilted slightly.
Half of it spilled onto the ground.
Another soldier tried to pull out his powder packet but fumbled it.
It dropped.
He quickly bent down to pick it up.
In doing so, his backside bumped into the teammate behind him.
That teammate lost balance and fell forward.
Which caused another to fall as well.
In seconds, the formation descended into chaos.
The musketeer line turned into a mess of bodies and equipment.
The soldiers' hearts sank.
We are definitely going to get beaten by Instructor He.
They stole glances toward Cheng Xu.
But instead of anger, they saw something unexpected.
No punishment.
No rage.
Only calm observation.
Cheng Xu was not going to hit them.
He had seen this too many times before.
Not just muskets. Even archery, something much simpler, could collapse under real battlefield pressure for new recruits.
This was normal.
Painfully normal.
And honestly, he felt relieved.
At least this was their first battle.
At least the enemy was running away.
If they were facing mounted Jurchen cavalry charging head-on, that panic would have turned into full collapse. Hands would shake so badly they could not reload at all. Many would never see tomorrow.
He straightened his posture and shouted loudly with a half-laughing curse.
"Stop panicking, damn it. The enemy is running. What are you afraid of? Calm your minds."
Hearing the amusement in his voice, the soldiers relaxed slightly.
Ah. Instructor He is not angry.
Then it is fine.
We are winning anyway.
Their breathing steadied.
Their hands regained control.
Thirty blinks of an eye later, they completed reloading.
Not perfect.
But acceptable.
Bang bang bang bang.
The second volley erupted.
By now, many bandits had already escaped far enough that only those slower or unlucky enough were struck in the back and collapsed.
Cheng Xu did not order pursuit.
Instead, he raised his voice.
"Long spear units, advance slowly. If you see heavily injured enemies, finish them with a shot. If you see lightly injured or uninjured ones, capture them and send them for labor reform."
The militia formation advanced.
Step by step.
Controlled.
Disciplined.
They moved into the shattered bandit camp.
What they saw was devastation.
The entire camp was turned into ruins.
Corpses scattered everywhere.
After nearly a hundred grenades detonated across the area, followed by continuous musket fire, there was nothing gentle left in the scene.
Even Cheng Xu could not help but sigh inwardly.
Firearms are terrifying.
As a low-level patrol officer in the past, he had only ever seen large-scale battles fought with cold weapons.
He had never witnessed true massed firearm warfare before.
Now he had seen it.
And it had opened his eyes completely.
Looking at the scene of destruction left behind by "plowing" firepower through human bodies, Cheng Xu muttered under his breath.
Sir.
The era has changed.
The spear soldiers looked at the twisted bodies on the ground and began whispering among themselves.
"This is too brutal. We did not even act and the bandits are already like this."
"Are we even going to get to fight in the future?"
"I want to be a fire musket soldier instead. Otherwise, how do we earn merit?"
The moment he said that, something suddenly moved.
From the corpse pile.
A so-called "hero" suddenly leapt up.
He was holding what looked like a guandao.
But it was actually just a wooden pole with a curved blade tied onto it. A cheap imitation weapon made to look intimidating.
He swung it directly toward the spear soldiers.
The distracted soldier froze.
He was too late to react.
But a shadow flashed.
Cheng Xu stepped in instantly.
He slipped into the blind angle of the weapon's arc with perfect timing.
His short blade thrust forward without hesitation.
It pierced the man's abdomen.
The blade exited through his lower back.
Blood sprayed out as the so-called hero collapsed with a scream.
Cheng Xu casually dusted his hands and then pointed at the spear soldiers, shouting.
"Stay alert. Battlefield cleanup is the most dangerous moment. Do not die after winning the battle like idiots."
Trivia & Context Notes
[1] Night Raids (Ye Xi) — Pre-modern armies feared night combat. Poor nutrition caused night blindness, making darkness lethal. Successful night attacks often decided entire campaigns before dawn.
[2] Fragmentation Reality — Early grenades relied on shrapnel spread, not blast pressure. Standing up increased exposed surface area—human instincts versus physics, history's favorite mismatch.
[3] Jianzhou Cavalry — Late-Ming northern cavalry excelled at shock charges. New infantry facing their first charge frequently broke after one volley, a pattern recorded repeatedly in Ming military memorials.
[4] Matchlock Reload Time — Thirty "blinks" roughly equals 20–30 seconds, historically accurate under calm conditions. Under fire, reload times often doubled—hence volley discipline mattered more than individual bravery.
[5] Battlefield Cleanup Deaths — Across dynasties, post-battle ambush injuries were common. Manuals warned commanders that victory breeds carelessness faster than defeat.
[6] "The Times Have Changed" — Not a joke but a historical truth: the Ming transition period marked the irreversible dominance of gunpowder over traditional martial valor. Philosophy followed technology, not the other way around.