The ferocious Japanese pirates gave no time for the defenders atop the wall to react. Before Registrar Zhang could finish urging Generals Wang and Zhang to hold the line, and before the generals could even respond, the pirates leapt forward, swinging their blades relentlessly.
To distinguish friend from foe among the Ming troops, the Japanese pirates had tied white strips of cloth around their sleeves.
Like bloodthirsty wolves, the battle-hardened pirates pounced, their wakizashi slashing through the air, flinging droplets of blood that splattered across the faces of the Jiaxing guards.
The soldiers at the stairwell swung their weapons in a frantic attempt to resist, but these poorly trained, often elderly or frail troops were no match for the Japanese pirates. These raiders had survived Suzhou—only the toughest remained, the weak having perished beneath the city, in the rivers, or amidst the flames.
In a single clash, dozens of guards at the stairwell were cut down by the savage, fearless Japanese pirates. Bodies littered the wall—no meaningful resistance offered.
Without pause, the pirates charged the next line of Ming soldiers, hacking and slashing, their guttural yells filling the air.
Killing was as easy as mowing grass—one swing felled a man, one strike split a skull.
The officials and guards atop the wall were dumbstruck by the Japanese pirates’ brutality and prowess. They’d heard tales of the raiders’ ruthlessness, but seeing it firsthand surpassed all imagination.
It was like wolves storming a sheep pen.
They killed without blinking.
Some Ming soldiers wet themselves in terror; others trembled like sieves.
The wall descended further into chaos.
“A thousand days of training for one moment of battle! General Wang, General Zhang—lead your men forward! You outnumber them two to one—the advantage is yours! Take them down! Registrar Zhang, get us off this wall—this place isn’t safe anymore!” Prefect Zhao, shaken to his core by the Japanese pirates’ ferocity, could barely stand, propped up by an aide. He barked orders in a panic, urging the generals to fight and Registrar Zhang to escort them to safety.
At that moment, he regretted—again and again—coming to the wall. His guts twisted with remorse.
“A thousand days of training for one moment! Up, up, up—everyone, get up there! We’ve got more men—they’re outnumbered! Surround and crush them!” Under Zhao’s prodding, General Wang finally stirred. He stepped back three paces and bellowed at his troops to charge.
*If Zhao, a rank above me, can pressure me, I’ll pressure you lot—move!*
“Rush them! Get in there! They’re flesh and blood—cut them once, they’ll die too! The Prefect and I are watching—whoever fights bravely, I’ll reward generously!” General Zhang followed suit, retreating four steps—lagging a body’s length behind Wang—and roared at his men, dangling the promise of riches.
Their soldiers quaked, having witnessed the Japanese pirates carve through men like grass. Their courage was shattered—none dared advance, glancing at each other, shrinking back.
*You cowards! I might not dare kill Japanese pirates, but I can damn well kill you!* General Wang, enraged by his troops’ hesitation, drew his sword and struck down an unconnected, unimpressive soldier with a single blow.
“Charge, all of you! Anyone who hesitates meets his fate! I can still swing this blade!” Wang pointed his bloodied sword at the corpse, snarling fiercely at his men.
The effect was immediate. The trembling, reluctant soldiers, cowed by the killing, had no choice but to shuffle forward, shaking as they faced the Japanese pirates.
Seeing Wang’s brutal display work, General Zhang wasn’t about to be outdone. He scanned his ranks, hunting for a disposable target to slaughter and cow his men into action.
But his troops, catching on after Wang’s example, knew what was coming. *I’m not gonna be the sacrificial chicken!* Before Zhang could strike, they stumbled forward, quivering, to meet the enemy.
“Good! Charge, all of you! Anyone who doesn’t move gets split open! Don’t say I didn’t warn you—your skulls aren’t harder than my ancestral blade!” Zhang bellowed.
The guards were green, but they had numbers. Even 800 pigs could stall the Japanese pirates for a while.
For a moment, though the guards fell in droves, their sheer mass of flesh and blood slowed the pirates’ rampage.
“Quick, quick—withdraw!” Seizing the chance, Prefect Zhao urged Registrar Zhang to hustle them away.
*Shoot the rider to fell the horse, catch the king to end the thieves.* Xu Hai wasn’t about to let a prize like Zhao slip away. He waved over a trusted subordinate and muttered a few words.
Soon, a dozen true Japanese pirate arquebusiers, wielding matchlocks, were ushered to Xu Hai’s side.
“You lot—aim at the fat one. You—target the skinny one. Don’t skimp on powder or shot—unload everything! You’ve seen how the Zhejiang troops fire—copy them!” Xu Hai whispered, pointing discreetly at Generals Wang and Zhang.
“Hai! / Yes, sir!” the arquebusiers replied.
The dozen split into two groups—one for Wang, one for Zhang.
Mimicking the Zhejiang troops’ firearm tactics, they formed three tight ranks: the front squatting, the middle bending, the rear standing, all levelling their matchlocks.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
A volley of synchronised shots rang out.
One second, Wang and Zhang were smugly congratulating themselves on their decisive leadership—killing a man to spur the rest. The next, they were riddled with lead.
A dozen matchlocks fired point-blank at close range by seasoned Japanese pirate marksmen—there was no missing.
“No—!” Their screams cut off as their bodies jerked from the impacts.
Then they crumpled.
Despite their full armour, each bore five or six bloody holes, crimson pooling beneath them.
Dead beyond dead.
*Bloody hell!*
Two armoured generals dropped in an instant—the guards’ morale shattered completely.
