Chapter 27: The Effortless War

This was the outskirts of an ordinary small town in the Mexican region—its residents could never have dreamed that their home would become the battlefield for tens of thousands of troops. Columns of the English Empire’s colonial forces and regular army marched into the town, numbering no less than sixty thousand.

The Mexican governor, surrounded by his officers, looked upon the seemingly endless ranks of his army with great satisfaction. Although numbers alone were not always decisive in war, in this era, the side with greater manpower undeniably inspired more confidence. The mercenaries within the colonial forces, gazing upon the troops stretched out for miles, felt a strong sense of security. With so many men assembled, defeat seemed impossible.

Unlike the loosely organized march of the English Empire’s colonial troops, the Song nation’s forces, led by Sun Li, advanced swiftly toward the Mexican governor’s residence under the reconnaissance of cavalry scouts. The scouts soon spotted the endless lines of English Empire troops. Receiving this intelligence, Sun Li showed no fear of the enemy’s size; he immediately rallied ten thousand soldiers and charged forward.

“Column formation! Column formation! Forward!” Under the orders of officers at all levels, the Song vanguard of ten thousand men quickly formed an assault-ready column formation, jogging steadily toward the slowly advancing English colonial troops within the town.

Thanks to strict military discipline and an almost inhuman training regimen, the ten thousand Song soldiers completed their formation with impressive speed. Not a single man fell behind during the jog, and their steps remained perfectly synchronized. Mounted couriers galloped back and forth between the columns, maintaining clear lines of communication. Officers brandished their command sabers at the front, leading their troops silently toward the target, having abandoned the usual cadence of drums and bugles.

The mercenary regiments, poorly organized and lax in discipline, had long since detected the Song reconnaissance cavalry. Yet, after merely reporting the intelligence to their commanders, they went about their business. Having endured a long march, they had finally reached a supply town and naturally took the opportunity to relax, even if only briefly. They could not fathom that the Song forces, outnumbered as they were, would dare to strike first at such a time.

Even in open battle, defenders generally held some advantage, and the defenders were often the weaker group. To these mercenaries, the smaller Song force was clearly the weaker party—and that proved to be their downfall.

“Enemy attack!” Bang! Bang! Crack!

The first shots rang out unexpectedly from somewhere, immediately followed by a rapid series of gunfire, like popcorn bursting incessantly. Then came the steady volleys of musket fire.

Hu Hei led his infantry regiment directly into the outskirts of the town. Despite the enemy’s chaotic gunfire, he wielded his command saber and charged to within thirty paces of the enemy.

Then, braving the scattered shots, he gave the order for three ranks to fire a volley. The disorganized mercenaries, who had barely formed ranks, were cut down in several rows. The remaining mercenary soldiers, faced with such overwhelming fire, panicked and fled in all directions.

“Fix bayonets! Charge!” After the volley, Hu Hei immediately ordered a bayonet charge.

“Kill!” Thrust! Ah...

Those soldiers hesitating whether to resist or forfeit their pay were mercilessly skewered in the bayonet assault. The rest lost all confidence to fight against these fierce, wolf-like enemies.

Around the town’s outskirts, the crack of musket fire and the stabbing sound of bayonets rang out. In this first brutal clash, the perimeter guard units collapsed entirely.

“Run! The Song army is too fierce, we can’t hold them! We’re defeated!” The mercenaries broke, running and screaming in panic, spreading chaos to their comrades within the town. The English Empire’s mercenary soldiers were like ants on a hot pan, scattering wildly. Many secretly packed their belongings, ready to flee at the slightest unfavorable turn of events—preserving their lives was paramount.

The Mexican governor, hearing the outside turmoil and the relentless volleys, roared furiously, demanding to know what was happening.

“Your Excellency... the Song army has charged in! Our comrades at the front were shattered by a single enemy charge. The troops have broken apart—only five thousand regular soldiers remain; the rest cannot regroup!” A disheveled officer staggered into the governor’s command post, his face filled with terror as he reported the situation.

“What? We haven’t even started fighting and they’ve already broken us? Are you soldiers or a bunch of cowards with weapons? Get out there and rally the troops immediately! Anyone who disobeys will be shot on the spot! Immediately! If you can’t gather the troops, I’ll shoot you myself!” The governor’s fury was unleashed. Could this mess get any worse?

“Yes, yes, at once!” The officer dashed out without looking back. Whether he truly went to rally the troops was doubtful—by now, the prestige of the English Empire’s forces was hanging by a thread.

“Bring me my weapons! I’ll lead the fight myself!” Like a gambler who had lost everything, the governor summoned his attendants, grabbed his flintlock pistol and command saber, and stormed out of the command post with a murderous glare.

Only upon emerging did he realize just how dire the situation had become.

Everywhere, colonial soldiers ran amok, some even turning to banditry amid the chaos. Bang! The governor fired his flintlock and killed a mercenary looter right under his nose. The others, seeing the governor’s distinguished attire and the hundreds of guards behind him, didn’t even bother to salute; one by one, they vanished into the town’s shadows. The governor looked upon these merciless colonial troops and felt the ground slipping beneath his feet.

“It’s over. Completely over. I knew it—these mercenaries, driven by nothing but money, are worthless scum. My future, my women, all lost!” The governor watched the panicked soldiers in the distance, the steady sound of musket fire creeping closer to the town center. He knew the Song main force was not far off, and he had yet to muster even a thousand men. The reason the Song troops hadn’t struck sooner was likely because the remaining regulars were still resisting.

Indeed, as the governor suspected, a few thousand English regulars were fighting stubbornly within the town, using obstacles to wage brutal street battles against the Song forces.

Hu Hei led his troops forward in neat ranks. Whenever the enemy fired, he halted briefly to return a volley. The roads behind were littered with the bodies of English soldiers and many fallen warhorses.

At the town’s entrance, the English Empire’s cavalry had charged the Song infantry with several thousand men but was decisively repelled after a volley of gunfire and two rounds of grenades, leaving a field of corpses. Using their four-legged advantage, they fled far ahead of their comrades, abandoning the battlefield.

With no resistance left, the Song’s ten thousand troops surged into the town. The few remaining organized units were shattered and wiped out by fearless bayonet charges. Those who still dared to fight were soon overwhelmed, and the colonial mercenaries, seeing the tide turn, fled for their lives.

Only near the governor’s command post did they encounter some semblance of resistance from the English regular forces. But under the withering fire of grenades and volleys, these soldiers contributed little beyond more corpses to the battlefield.

Amid the smoky chaos, Hu Hei spotted a cluster of several hundred soldiers gathered tightly around a single figure—a big fish, he thought.

“Infantry regiment, charge with me!” Hu Hei shouted, leading over a thousand men toward the group.

The Mexican governor had intended to bring reinforcements to stabilize the situation but soon found himself fleeing with the defeated forces. The rout was total.

Yet the Song forces advanced so rapidly that before the governor could escape the town, a regiment of Song infantry had caught up to him.

He was forced to organize a defense against these strange soldiers wielding flintlock rifles fitted with bayonets. After two volleys, the Song soldiers showed no hesitation despite their comrades’ casualties. They charged with fixed bayonets into the governor’s guards. The governor was horrified to see that his sword-wielding guards could not withstand these soldiers armed with a fusion of gun and spear. Both in fighting spirit and skill, the Song soldiers met standards comparable to the main forces of European armies. Within half an hour, Hu Hei’s regiment had utterly shattered the defenders.

The governor, protected by a few aides, fled helplessly outside the town. Hu Hei naturally gave pursuit.

Soon, the pampered governor, exhausted and outmatched, was caught by Hu Hei’s troops. Surrounded by rows of bayonets, the governor and his guards wisely surrendered. Hu Hei realized with satisfaction that he had captured the top leader of the Mexican region.

“Looks like I’ll be promoted to division commander next,” Hu Hei thought with a smile.

After several hours of pursuit and annihilation, the entire sixty-thousand-strong English colonial army was thoroughly routed. The hills and valleys were filled with fleeing mercenaries. Sun Li, limited by manpower, chose not to chase down the disorganized remnants.

After a brief cleanup of the battlefield, the lightly damaged Song army moved forward slowly amid the fearful gazes of the town’s residents. It was as if this battle were merely a drill—there was no celebration, no lingering, no boasting.

Only onward—ever onward—until the entire Mexican region was under their control.

With this decisive victory, crushing the main forces in the Mexican region and capturing the governor alive, the Song army’s path through Mexico lay open without obstacle.