*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
*Boom… Boom…*
The disciplined, dense musket fire, mixed with the occasional roar of Tiger Crouching Cannons, thundered in the ears of the fleeing pirates. Comrades fell around them, the terrifying sounds and scenes driving them to curse their parents for not giving them an extra leg as they ran for their lives.
*I may not outrun the bullets, but as long as I’m faster than my mates, that’s enough.*
The surviving vanguard pirates scrambled backward, shoving and jostling each other. Some tripped in the chaos and never rose again—fleeing pirates didn’t dodge, trampling the fallen, who screamed as they were crushed to death under countless feet.
Others, wounded in the legs and running slowly, were knocked down by the desperate mob and trampled to death.
The fleeing pirates moved faster than they had when charging, cutting down anyone who blocked their escape.
Only fleeing with them meant survival.
The pursuing Zhejiang army pressed hard, the *bang bang* of muskets and *boom* of cannons sounding like death knells. Each volley brought down more pirates, their screams echoing as they fell.
*Don’t run, and you’re dead!*
The pirates fled frantically, sweeping up the enforcer team, who were themselves caught in the rout. The rear pirates were similarly dragged into the chaos.
The pirate formation collapsed entirely.
From the moment they clashed with the Zhejiang army to the vanguard’s rout, not even the time for a cup of tea had passed. They hadn’t even reached the Zhejiang lines.
The vanguard’s collapse was so swift that the mid-army barely reacted before the terrified, demoralized, fleeing pirates smashed into them, disrupting their formation and dragging them into the retreat.
The Zhejiang army’s firearms, especially the Tiger Crouching Cannons, fueled the collapse, like a dam bursting, unstoppable and sweeping all before it.
The pirates’ rout was like an avalanche, vast and swift, or a waterfall plunging three thousand feet, roaring and irreversible.
From the vanguard to the mid-army, the pirates turned and fled like a plague spreading, racing to escape.
Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadakawa had few guards left, most dispatched as enforcers, leaving them shorthanded. Even if they had men, it was too late—the vanguard’s collapse was too rapid for them to turn the tide.
“Damn it! Who told you to run!” Mao Haifeng slashed a fleeing pirate dead with his sword.
“Baka! You’ve shamed the samurai!” Otomo Sadakawa stabbed a fleeing true pirate, cursing through gritted teeth.
“Leader, the tide has turned—retreat now! Keep the mountain green, and there’ll be firewood later. Regroup and fight again!”
“Leader, they’re all running—we can’t hold! The Zhejiang army is closing in. If we don’t retreat now, it’ll be too late. Please decide quickly!”
Mao Haifeng’s guards risked death to urge retreat.
At first, fleeing pirates avoided them, but as the rout intensified, they were swept up, pushed, and shoved toward their leaders.
Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadakawa’s guards, wielding swords with martial prowess, cut down fleeing pirates and ordered them to steer clear.
But as the flood of deserters grew, they were like a lone boat in a tsunami, teetering and unable to hold much longer.
Thus, the guards had to risk death to urge Mao Haifeng and Otomo Sadakawa to flee before it was too late.
“Damn cowards, ruining my plans! Regroup later, and I’ll pick out every deserter and flay them alive!” Mao Haifeng, furious, sheathed his sword and cursed viciously.
“Brother Haifeng, retreat is our only option now,” Otomo Sadakawa sighed, exasperated.
“Retreat! Today’s defeat is on me—I underestimated their firearms!” Mao Haifeng glared at the Zhejiang army’s banner, eyes nearly splitting with rage, before reluctantly giving the order.
Though he couldn’t see Zhu Ping’an, he knew he was under that banner!
He had planned to crush the Zhejiang army, capture Zhu Ping’an, and humiliate him. Never did he imagine this outcome.
Today’s battle was his loss—and so swift, so complete!
The pursuing Zhejiang army had no time to reload.
If he could rally thousands of men for a counterattack into the Zhejiang lines, victory might still be possible.
But the pirate army was in full rout. Forget thousands—hundreds couldn’t be mustered now.
With bitter reluctance, he retreated.
After Mao Haifeng’s order, their guards, barely holding back, surrounded them and fled, blending into the fleeing pirates.
“Shout it! The pirate leader’s flag is retreating—their chief is running!” Zhu Ping’an noticed the pirate banner withdrawing and quickly ordered.
“The pirate leader’s flag is retreating—their chief is running!” The Zhejiang troops spread the cry, one to ten, ten to a hundred.
The few pirates still resisting sporadically, hearing this, looked back and saw their leader’s banner gone. Their last shred of courage vanished, and they turned to flee. Not a single pirate resisted any longer.
They ran.
All of them ran.
This was the rhythm of a great battle—chasing a defeated army.
The Zhejiang troops, too pressed to reload, pursued with bayonets. Even newly recruited soldiers excelled at this task.
The pirates, focused solely on escape, had no courage to turn and fight. The Zhejiang troops only needed to catch up and stab their backs.
Even if a pirate, cornered, turned to fight desperately, they faced a squad or unit of Zhejiang soldiers. Two fists couldn’t match four hands, let alone ten or dozens of bayonets. They fell in defeat.
Though the chase was exhilarating and smooth, it was somewhat slow. Naturally—killing over ten thousand pirates, like slaughtering ten thousand pigs, was time-consuming and laborious.
Seeing the chase’s efficiency lagging, Zhu Ping’an ordered, “Shout: ‘Kneel and you won’t be killed! Surrender and live!’”
The Zhejiang troops pursued while shouting, “Kneel and you won’t be killed! Surrender and live!”
Hearing a chance to survive, most pirates overtaken, save a few who fought fiercely, knelt and surrendered.
In moments, the hills and fields were filled with kneeling, surrendering pirates.
