The morning sun was not yet scorching. Signal flares shot into the sky one after another, tracing a vast encirclement around the advancing army. Wanyan Zonghan, mounted on his warhorse, followed the rising flares with his gaze, the wind ruffling his white hair. He had already drawn his sword.

The advancing formation of thirty thousand soldiers was vast and imposing. In terms of sheer numbers, the entire Xia Seventh Army participating in this battle would not exceed this scale, let alone fulfill the military principle of "surround them tenfold."

However, with the ascent of these flares, the momentum for attack was already brewing. The main force of the Xia army, scattered and hastily gathered around, showed no signs of deception or feigned attacks. They were serious – and, strangely, even Wanyan Zonghan himself, or the generals and soldiers in his army, could more or less understand that the enemy was serious.

Just as the flares were still rising in the north, the attack commenced.

The first sound came from the woods to the east. Figures rushed out, not many in number, and not in any discernible formation. Flares were still rising in the northern mountains. This small group seemed to be rushing ahead impatiently, shouting as they closed the distance with the Jin front lines.

Twenty or thirty men charging towards an army of thirty thousand might seem bizarre, but it tightened the string in everyone's heart. Among the Jin front lines, the archers had already nocked their arrows, and the front-line general, seasoned in battle, did not hastily order the release. For a moment, the vast battlefield even seemed somewhat silent, broken only by the shouts of those few men emerging from the woods.

A low horn sounded from this "silent" battlefield. The horn sounded low because the blower put all his strength into it, but it then soared through the air, circling and rising to a higher pitch. A second black flag emerged from the mountainside to the southeast.

Next came the northern hills several miles away, and then figures charged out from the south. Then the fifth, sixth, seventh waves...

The successive attacks emerged like a tide, coming from all directions. But compared to the massive army of thirty thousand, each wave of enemies seemed almost laughable. Most of them were in groups of dozens, but at this moment, appearing in different locations within a few miles, they all displayed a spirit of utter desperation. Wanyan Zonghan watched all of this unfolding in the distance, his long sword seeming to emit a metallic sound in the wind. A sigh escaped his throat: "Truly like a street brawl..."

Indeed, if this had been decades ago – or even ten years ago – he would have laughed at such a sight. Back then, a battlefield was a proper battlefield, with tens or even hundreds of thousands of men lined up for battle. At Hubudagang, the Liao banners blotted out the sky, stretching as far as the eye could see. Both sides arrayed their forces, resolved to die, and then charged with massive formations. These small groups of soldiers, placed on such a battlefield, would not even have the courage to charge. Away from the sight of the generals or the supervisors, they would simply disappear.

But at this moment, wave after wave of dozens or hundreds of men were emerging from all directions. Black flags everywhere. He wanted to laugh to boost morale, but he felt like ants were crawling on the back of his head, preventing him from laughing. He knew that the enemy was not joking.

Every one of these Xia soldiers charging across the mountains and fields was serious!

To the east, the Jin front line commander had already ordered the release of arrows. A rain of arrows ascended into the sky.

The first team to launch an attack from the small woods was a platoon under the command of Niu Chengshu, company commander, and Zhao Xingwang, platoon leader, from the Second Company, Second Battalion, Second Regiment, First Division of the Xia Seventh Army. Zhao Xingwang was a tall, thin, thirty-two-year-old veteran with a scar at the corner of his eye. After days of fierce fighting, his platoon had only twenty-three men left. Being the first to charge towards the Jin army was a gamble with a slim chance of survival, but at the same time, it was a great honor.

This charge was based on immense courage, but also on confidence in countless comrades. They were the first to charge towards the Jin army, and as they rushed out of the woods, their vision expanding, the rising flares continued to appear. From the mountainside not far to the southeast, the second black flag immediately launched an attack. Then, the charging horn, shifting from low to high, sounded. From the north, the south, the northeast... teams emerged like them. This scene and response were enough to make one's blood boil and face death as if it were home.

Opposite them was the shockingly large Jin army, but they already knew how to deal with such enemies, and they knew that their comrades would provide them with the greatest possible support.

The twenty-three men charged towards the Jin front line, which had a scale of a thousand men. The Jin general in command was also very experienced. He ordered the archers to hold their fire, waiting for the charging Xia soldiers to enter the range of maximum damage. But facing a scattered formation of twenty or thirty men, the archers were in an awkward position no matter what they chose.

"Heads up!"

The twenty-three men did not run fast; they maintained a similar speed. As they entered the first area with large and small rocks, Zhao Xingwang said briefly and firmly. He slightly raised his shield, and the surrounding soldiers also slightly raised their shields. The surrounding shouts of killing became noisy with the charge of dozens of teams. They entered the archers' optimal range.

Black arrows flew up like locusts.

"Dodge—"

Zhao Xingwang lunged towards a large rock, raising his shield. The soldiers around him also chose places to take cover, crouching down. Then, arrows fell like rain, with whooshing and clanging sounds. Shouts of killing continued to spread around. Zhao Xingwang saw Xia soldiers also cutting in diagonally from the ridge to the northeast. Behind them, Company Commander Niu Chengshu led soldiers from the other two platoons, also charging out. They were a little slower, waiting to respond to changes. He knew that at this moment, countless comrades around the vast battlefield were rushing towards the Jin army columns.

The time between launching an attack and making contact is always particularly peculiar in the course of war. It is quiet yet noisy, turbulent yet silent, like hot water in a pot waiting to boil, or a giant wave about to crash and explode on the shore.

The rain of arrows had ended. Zhao Xingwang did not have time to ask if anyone was injured. He raised his head and looked ahead from behind the large rock. At this moment, they were less than fifty *zhang* (丈, a Chinese unit of length, approx. 3.3 meters) away from the Jin front-line team of a thousand men. One column in the Jin front line, about a hundred men, had already begun to deform and was about to charge towards them.

Zhao Xingwang exhaled. At this moment, he already knew that the commander on the opposite side was an experienced Jin general. After explosives like hand grenades were put into use by the Xia army, it was best to avoid fighting in formation unless defending with camps, walls, or fortifications. Even a Jin team of a thousand men would lose momentum if they were rushed up close and bombarded with grenades. When the second and third platoons charged over, there would be no need to fight much more.

Using superior forces of about a hundred men to ignite and launch fire-thunder bombs was a relatively suitable choice.

Zhao Xingwang made a gesture: "Listen to my command – go—"

The comrades held their shields, their bodies slightly bent, and began to rush out from behind the cover they had found. They began to accelerate, and then the Jin army's hundred-man team also rushed out. As the distance between the two sides closed to thirty-five *zhang*, Zhao Xingwang, who had not gone far, stopped, and the soldiers stopped with him: "Hand grenades ready—"

"Three!"

"Two!"

A fierce light flashed in the eyes of the soldiers: "Charge—"

More than twenty men charged with all their might, joining the tide of the entire battlefield.

Small-scale collision battles between soldiers, using hand grenades and fire-thunder bombs to open the situation, had only gradually begun to appear in recent years. As the Jin people barely adapted to this type of combat in this southern expedition, the Xia army's counter-measures also began to increase. Facing the Jin small unit that came up to meet them, this "walk-stop-charge" rhythm was a counter-method that had been brewing in company and platoon combat in recent days. A three-second pause at the distance where they were about to engage was a pre-arranged step for their side, but for the Jin troops who were rushing up with all their strength, it was as uncomfortable as being out of breath.

The Jin hundred-man team's charge originally tried to maintain its formation as usual, but after this pause, the soldiers' steps suddenly became chaotic, and the line began to deform rapidly during the charge – skirmish warfare originally required deformation, but self-selection and forced disarray were, of course, different. But there was no more room to respond.

The distance between the two sides closed with a whoosh, to fifteen *zhang*. Zhao Xingwang and others threw hand grenades at the crowd in front of them. Several hand grenades flew through the sky and fell down. The fire-thunder bombs on the opposite side also flew one after another. Compared to the Xia army's wooden-handled hand grenades, the opposing circular fire-thunder bombs had a relatively shorter throwing distance and poorer accuracy.

Explosions rang out in the crowd on the opposite side. Some people flew backward, and some rolled to the ground. The Xia soldiers on this side also fell to the ground during the charge, adopting a defensive posture in the face of the explosions. In fact, the opposing fire-thunder bombs landed over a wide area. The three-second pause before the Xia army's charge disrupted the Jin soldiers' timing for igniting the fire-thunder bombs.

Black smoke billowed on the battlefield, and the stench of blood filled the air. Amidst the black smoke, there were hysterical roars from the Jin generals, as well as the writhing and wailing of the wounded. Zhao Xingwang got up in the next moment after the explosion stopped, glanced at his side, and saw the figures of his comrades struggling to get up as well. They held steel knives, shaking off the dust from their bodies.

"—Assault Formation! (Xian Zhen!)"

The soldiers charged into the smoke, bursting out from the other side.

Unleashing the collision.

……

Across the entire battlefield, arrows were rising in waves, and the sound of cannons rang out. Waves of Xia army teams chose to defend or retreat amidst the rain of arrows and the sound of artillery fire, but more teams took the opportunity to rush down. The periphery of the entire battlefield was like a gradually heating oil pot, and the sizzling boiling and bursting began to become intense.

At Si Shi (巳时, 9-11 AM), the encirclement operation, spreading across several miles in three directions, had fully unfolded. The Xia army's offensive units were almost broken down to the platoon level. With the general direction determined, each combat unit had its own responses. Of course, some Xia army officers could only distinguish the timing of advance and retreat, but even these changes were not something the Jin people's command system could adapt to.

The bombardment of the artillery positions was like using cannons to kill mosquitoes for the scattered formations on the periphery, and the Jin people did not dare to adopt a passive defense. As the Xia army's charges unfolded, the Jin people launched counter-charges in teams of a hundred men on the periphery. Some units that had previously shown signs of defeat almost collapsed at the first touch, while a few units blocked the Xia army's first wave of attack.

Chaos began to spread. At Si Shi two *ke* (刻, a Chinese unit of time, approx. 15 minutes), the Xia army's attacks were like a series of needles, beginning to pierce the periphery of Zonghan's army and extend towards the interior. At this time, Gao Qingyi had also gathered a large number of cavalry and launched the prelude to a counterattack.

The sun was already high in the sky. It was ten o'clock on the morning of April 24th, the sixth and final day of the Hanzhong Campaign. Since the start of the campaign on the 19th, the Xia Seventh Army had not avoided any battles. This was the strongest blade that the Xia army had been honing for several years. At this moment, near the end of the entire Southwest Campaign, they were about to complete their mission.

Wanyan Zonghan had originally planned to launch a decisive battle at the first opportunity, but decades of combat experience made him choose to delay for several days. This struggle was not without reason, but everyone understood that the decisive battle would inevitably occur at some point. So, on this day, the 24th, as the Jin people finally straightened their attitude, the Xia army also straightened its posture, putting all its strength into the frontal battlefield, going all in (梭哈).

In the subsequent battlefield, the Jin people put up a stubborn resistance...

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