Chapter 124: Ready the Mortars, Fire at Will!

Before the Japanese soldiers could come within five hundred meters of the defensive line, the frontline commander of the Chengyun Army issued a loud command: "Mortars ready, fire at will!"

Following his order, the mortars roared, raining shells upon the enemy like a torrential downpour. Even as the enemy attempted to disperse their formation, they could not escape the barrage, and a hundred Japanese soldiers were killed in a short span of time. The scene was like a harvest; the wretched bodies of the Japanese were rendered incredibly fragile under the intense firepower. Under such an assault, it was difficult for any army to maintain a coherent formation, yet the remaining soldiers who had not been hit by the explosions continued to charge stubbornly until they were completely decimated.

When the Japanese were only three hundred meters away, a cold resolve appeared on the face of frontline commander Wang Muzhi. He issued another order: "Heavy machine guns, fire!"

His voice was devoid of mercy, and his gaze sliced through the air like a sharp blade. Upon his command, lethal webs of fire thinned the enemy ranks layer by layer, the bloody spectacle on the battlefield revealing the cruelty of war.

A Japanese captain, his face covered in blood, looked on with eyes full of despair. His voice trembling, he pleaded with his superior: "Lord Battalion Commander, please issue an order to retreat!"

In just a few minutes, his unit had been slashed from over three hundred men to half that number, and the survivors were trapped under the intense fire, unable to move. A flicker of anger and disdain crossed the battalion commander’s face as he sternly rebuked him: "How can you show weakness in front of the enemy!"

"Charge! Even if we die, we must die on the path of the advance!" His voice revealed an obsessive pursuit of honor. "Otherwise, how are you worthy of the glory of the Shrine?"

As he drew the sword from his waist, his expression became exceptionally resolute: "Charge with me!"

His command reignited the fighting spirit in the minds of the brainwashed Japanese soldiers. Led by their commander, they charged bravely toward the Chengyun Army’s defensive line, their faces masks of suicidal determination.

Having suffered heavy casualties, they finally relied on sheer willpower to reach a point two hundred meters from the Chengyun Army’s positions, utilizing every available piece of cover to return fire. As the Chengyun Army's frontline fire points stabilized, follow-up units quickly committed more firepower to the battle, bringing the atmosphere of the battlefield to a boiling point.

Under the stubborn resistance of the Chengyun Army, the Japanese began to suffer catastrophic losses. Each mortar shell fired claimed lives, staining the battlefield a deep red. The carnage left Japanese corpses piled high—from a distance, they looked like mounds of yellow earth—a sight that was deeply etched into Wang Muzhi’s mind.

After the battle, he stood on the field; although his uniform was stained with smoke and dust, and the scars on his face were stark, none of this diminished his morale. His eyes were firm, a faint smile on his face, and his tone was filled with pride: "Corps Commander, I did not let you down!"

Upon hearing this, Jiang Bai revealed a smile of appreciation and satisfaction. He nodded and replied affirmatively: "Well done, Muzhi!" His voice conveyed his approval of Wang Muzhi and his recognition of the troops' performance.

"Now, have the support units prepare. You have performed brilliantly in this hard-fought battle; it is time to get some rest."

In this high-attrition conflict, the soldiers' physical and mental stamina had been pushed to the limit. The continuous fighting left them exhausted, and their combat effectiveness had begun to wane. Jiang Bai understood the importance of rest and proposed that the soldiers withdraw to recover, hoping to restore and enhance the unit's capabilities.

To Jiang Bai’s suggestion, Wang Muzhi responded with a relaxed attitude: "Corps Commander, my troops can still fight." A spark of determination flickered in his eyes, as if he were ready for any sacrifice. "When we truly reach our limit, we will let the follow-up units take our place." He insisted on his view, forcing Jiang Bai to temporarily set aside his concerns.

On the battlefield, the Seventh Area Army was very satisfied with the current situation. Jiang Bai, in particular, wore a smug smile; thanks to their superior equipment, their combat effectiveness had been greatly enhanced. The Japanese, who had once struck fear into them, were now suffering heavy losses and even total collapse at their hands. This transformation made Jiang Bai feel exceptionally gratified. His smile carried a sense of relief, as if all his efforts had finally paid off.

In stark contrast, the situation for the Japanese was dire. Lieutenant General Kamio and his subordinates were pale, their eyes filled with panic and unease, clearly having not anticipated the intensity of the battle. They faced report after report of casualties, their spirits sinking to the absolute bottom; for some, uncontrollable fear flickered in their eyes.

In the heavy atmosphere, Lieutenant General Kamio took a deep breath. His face was etched with struggle and reluctance, but in the end, he made his decision: "Order the front line to retreat entirely at once!" Although his voice was steady, the furrowed brow and tightly pressed lips betrayed his inner pain and helplessness.

In Kyoto, hidden in the backyard of a quiet and peaceful teahouse, lay an elegant courtyard. An old tree in the center provided shade like an umbrella, bringing a sense of coolness. At a stone table in the courtyard, two elders in army uniforms sat cross-legged on tatami mats, their eyes like torches, focused intently on two other elders in samurai attire playing a game of Go.

The two men in military uniforms were the high-ranking leaders of the Imperial Army—the Minister of War and the Chief of the Army General Staff. Despite their high positions and immense power, they sat quietly like children watching the match, their expressions revealing reverence for the game and deep respect for the players, which piqued the curiosity of onlookers regarding the identities of the two samurai elders.

When the two samurai finished their game and began to sip tea, the armed military police nearby quickly cleared the board. One samurai spoke softly, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable firmness: "The game is decided, and the tea is finished. It is time to discuss serious matters."

The one beside him replied in a low voice, his tone revealing a hint of tension and anticipation: "Indeed, Lord Yamapeng, the Minister of War and the Chief of Staff have been waiting for a long time."

The Minister of War and the Chief of Staff displayed expressions of respect and anticipation. Though tense, they were filled with reverence for the affairs about to be discussed. As the Minister of War, one of the five grand ministers of the Japanese establishment, he appeared exceptionally humble in front of these two kimono-clad elders, filled with respect for these former high-ranking military officials and members of the House of Peers.

Yamapeng Yinan’s prestige stemmed not only from his twenty-plus years as a top military official but also from his profound influence within the House of Peers. The talents he had cultivated were scattered throughout the military, giving his power a far-reaching impact.