By this point, the shield carts had already pushed to within fifty meters of the city wall.
Among the rebel ranks, a number of powerful archers stepped forward and began shooting arrows upward toward the ramparts. However, shooting uphill greatly reduced their strength and accuracy. Most of the arrows struck the stone walls or fell short, clattering harmlessly against the battlements.
Only the occasional stray arrow managed to clear the parapet.
Even then, it posed little real danger.
Zhu Changxun's personal guards, though utterly useless in actual combat, were at least dressed in splendid armor. Standing along the wall, they unexpectedly became human shields. Arrows striking their armor barely made a sound, much less caused injury.
Despite this, the guards were still frightened out of their wits.
Their faces drained of color, hands shaking as they clutched their weapons, they stood stiffly on the wall like wooden statues.
Zhu Changxun himself had already turned into a quivering mass.
If the city fell, others might be able to flee.
But not him.
As Prince of Fu, the furthest he was allowed to escape was Ying'en Temple just outside the city gates. Any farther required a personal imperial decree.
There was nowhere to run.
Li Daoxuan looked at Zhu Changxun's performance and shook his head slightly. He truly had no desire to save such a man.
But then his gaze shifted past the prince.
Behind him, the people of Luoyang were trembling as well.
The local militia organized by Fan Shangzheng crouched behind the crenellations, clutching large stones and kettles of boiling water, their hands shaking uncontrollably.
They were afraid too.
Across the city, countless civilians hid inside their homes, burning incense and whispering prayers, begging the rebels to leave quickly.
Li Daoxuan spoke calmly.
"Grenades."
The command was immediately relayed.
"Grenades!" a captain shouted loudly.
The firearms troops, who had remained silent until now, reached into their pouches and drew out small black spheres. They lit the fuses and hurled them forward with practiced motions.
Gao Family Village had once maintained a dedicated Armored Grenadier Battalion, led by Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu. But after the Chassepot rifle was perfected, the limited throwing range of grenades became a weakness.
The special battalion was dissolved.
Instead, nearly every soldier was issued hand grenades, while the former grenadiers were reassigned as riflemen.
And so—
At the command, those soldiers confident in their throwing strength were the first to act.
Hundreds of grenades arced through the air.
They sailed cleanly over the tops of the shield carts and fell into the dense rebel formations behind them.
Zhu Changxun stared.
"What are they doing? Throwing stones?"
He had barely finished speaking.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
A chain of violent explosions erupted.
Thick smoke billowed upward as hundreds of grenades detonated almost simultaneously.
Zhu Changxun screamed.
"Ahhh! What was that? Quickly, protect this king!"
His guards leaned over the battlements and shouted excitedly,
"Your Highness! The rebels have been blown apart!"
Zhu Changxun gathered what little courage he could and cautiously poked his head out.
Only then did he see that the thunderous blasts came from those small black spheres thrown by Bai Yuan's men. Having cleared the shield carts, they exploded directly amid the tightly packed rebels.
Screams filled the battlefield.
Limbs flew.
Bodies collapsed.
Through the gaps between the shield carts, large numbers of rebels could be seen falling one after another. Even the men pushing the carts dropped to the ground, and the carts themselves came to a dead stop.
With the shield carts immobilized, the entire rebel advance stalled.
Zhu Changxun sucked in a breath.
"Amazing! What kind of terrifying method is this?"
A guard replied,
"Those black spheres… they must be gunpowder packed together."
Zhu Changxun was stunned.
"Gunpowder… can be used like that?"
At this moment, the rebel army outside the city erupted in fury.
Their commander, Meng Hu, beat his war drum with all his strength and roared,
"Damn it! It's only a few dozen yards now! Abandon the carts! Charge! Kill the Prince of Fu—Zhu… Zhu what?"
Du Hu shouted back,
"Brother, it's Zhu Changxun!"
Meng Hu yelled,
"Yes! Kill Zhu Changxun! His wealth will be ours!"
Yet when the order reached the front ranks, no one moved.
The grenades had shattered their courage.
The sight of mangled corpses lying everywhere filled the rebels with terror. Many of the hardened veterans instinctively took a step back.
Meng Hu's command echoed—but the front lines remained frozen.
Then, the reserves surged forward.
Fresh rebels poured in from the rear, using sheer numbers to push aside the shield carts. Raising their shields, they launched a second desperate charge.
Others seized the handcarts and began hauling earth and stones toward the moat.
If even a few hundred cartloads could be dumped into one spot, the moat could be filled in moments.
Behind them, another group appeared carrying long wooden planks.
If earth and stone weren't enough, they would bridge the moat instead.
These tactics had worked well at Zezhou, Liaozhou, and Huaiqing.
But this time—
They failed completely.
With the shield carts gone, the firearms troops finally unleashed their full power.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Gunfire roared.
The rebels' raised shields were laughably inadequate. Most were little more than rough wooden boards, utterly incapable of stopping bullets from breech-loading rifles.
Shields shattered.
Rebels fell.
Those pushing handcarts hunched low, hiding their heads, sprinting desperately forward. But from the city wall above, their backs were fully exposed.
Crack!
A single shot struck squarely between a rebel's shoulders.
He collapsed instantly, his handcart overturning beside him.
The rebels' charge disintegrated as quickly as it had formed.
Most terrifying of all was that the rifles did not pause.
They fired again.
And again.
And again.
As though reloading took no time at all.
Zhu Changxun stared in utter shock.
Only now did he truly understand how the Xiaolangdi water bandits—who had plagued the region for over a thousand years—had been wiped out so effortlessly.
So this was the true strength of Bai Yuan's firearms troops.
At last, the rebels' morale completely collapsed.
The front ranks refused to advance.
The rear ranks refused to push.
The invisible thread holding them together snapped.
With a chaotic howl, the rebel army broke and fled.
No matter how hard Meng Hu beat his drum, not a single man turned back.
The rebel forces retreated.
Meng Hu glanced at Luoyang's towering walls and understood that the city was beyond him. This had only been a test. He was not foolish enough to smash his head against stone.
Calling Du Hu, he gathered the defeated troops and withdrew to rendezvous with Chuang Wang and Chuang Jiang, continuing south toward Huguang.
"The rebels are retreating!"
"They're fleeing!"
Cheers erupted throughout Luoyang.
Zhu Changxun looked left and right, confirmed the danger had passed, then burst into loud laughter.
"Insignificant wretches! Utterly outmatched, yet daring to assault Luoyang? Hahaha! With this king personally present, how could such petty criminals ever breach the city walls?"
His courage had finally returned.
Just a little late.