Chapter 102: 102 I am with you

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Tang Mo's battle line was wider than normal, which could fully exploit the advantages of having rifles with faster rates of fire and more powerful gunfire.

However, to an opponent unaware of the existence of breech-loading rifles, his battle line seemed far too loose, almost like child's play.

But he knew, and his soldiers knew, just how strong their striking power was when spread out like this.

"Fire! Fire!" As Tang Mo led his troops forward towards the Suthers forces, Tucci's confidant finally gave the order.

Accompanying his command, white smoke belched from the artillery position at his side, and a row of shells charged toward Tang Mo's line of soldiers.

"Boom!" The enormous roar of the cannons, along with the whistling shells, pierced through Tang Mo's formation, directly bisecting a soldier at the forefront.

He didn't even have time to scream before his upper body was flung out, splattering blood on the face of the soldier behind him, startling him.

Tang Mo also panicked a little, as it was his first time standing under the enemy's cannon fire. Although he had killed before and witnessed gunfire and bullets, this firsthand experience in war made him nervous.

On the battlefield, guns and cannons were blind, and no matter how safe one was, death could come in the next second. Tang Mo didn't want to die, because he had already died once before.

But he had his business; he was responsible for the workers still in the Brunas factory, he was responsible for these Northern Ridge hunters who followed and trusted him, and he was responsible for himself!

Kneel and submit to Shireck? Serve as a dog to those damned Nobility? What a joke! Beg on my knees for life? No! Never!

I will stand and make money, not kneel and be bullied! I alone decide my fate!

With that thought, Tang Mo gritted his teeth, picked up a Tang's K1 Quick Gun, and continued to walk forward step by step with the soldiers beside him. While walking, he shouted loudly against the whistling shells, "Hold steady! I stand with you!"

"Boom!" Another shell smashed into the ground, raising a cloud of dirt and sending gusts over the heads of Tang Mo's soldiers.

After the shell passed, Tang Mo continued to advance, continuing to encourage his soldiers, "Advance! Follow the flag!"

At this point, the advantage of Tang Mo's shallow, double-ranked advancement formation became apparent. The same shell, if it had plowed into a square formation, would have caused massive casualties, but when it hit Tang Mo's formation, at best it could only kill two or three soldiers.

With today's solid iron cannonballs, unless they landed right in the middle of a group of people, their lethality was far less than that of shrapnel shells. As a result, Tang Mo's new recruits were able to advance about 100 meters, despite the enemy's artillery fire.

"Halt the advance!" Finally, Tang Mo knew that his opportunity had come. His breech-loading rifles used a sealed bolt, which was far more airtight than the flintlock rifles that naturally had a priming hole.

Moreover, when used in combination with Minié balls and rifled barrels, the breech-loaders were vastly more accurate than flintlocks, giving Tang Mo a significant advantage in range.

He dared to order a volley at around 100 meters, while the enemy would usually open fire at about 50 meters.

"Second rank, aim! Fire!" The two company commanders passed by Tang Mo and Wes, chin held high, loudly issuing the command to fire once again.

And the second rank of soldiers likewise raised their rifles, aiming at the distant Suthers formations and pulling their triggers.

Tang Mo was somewhat nervous; standing his ground, he opened the breech and, with a brush he held ready in his hand, shakily cleaned the powder residue from his gun's barrel.

By his ear, the second round of gunfire already resounded; he didn't know the damage done because his eyes were fixed on his own clumsy fingers.

With the first volley of gunfire, the outer Suthers soldiers fell in swathes, shocked to discover the precision of the bullets flying from such a distance.

They huddled together, eyes widened at the sight of their fallen comrades, at the blood spraying their blue uniforms, at the pained screams as they clutched their bellies.

"They're firing at us! They're firing at us!" A Suthers soldier pushed aside his comrades, trying to squeeze deeper into the safety of the formation.

"Steady! Keep calm!" A Suthers officer, indifferent to the corpses at his feet, vociferously maintained the order of his formation.

Unfortunately, his efforts were essentially in vain because his formation had already been thrown into disarray by the recent cannonball, rendering him unable to effectively control his men any longer.

"Bang!" A Suthers soldier could no longer hold back; he raised his weapon and fired toward the direction of the enemy lines.

Then, as if inspired, all the Suthers soldiers disregarded their commanders' scoldings and shouts, recklessly raised their weapons and pulled their triggers.

The sound of their indiscriminate shooting melded into one, and then they were astonished to find that almost none of the enemy, standing not far from them, fell.

The Suthers soldiers who had fired their shot began to reload; they set down their rifles, opened their powder horns, and started pouring gunpowder into the barrels of their flintlock guns.

Some forgot to clean their barrels, some were so nervous they spilled their powder; the whole formation was in chaos, beyond any effective command.

"Damn it!" Watching everything unfold before him, Tucci's confidant cursed. He knew the tide had turned, and all he could do now was rely on overwhelming numbers to delay the collapse.

With this realization, he cursed again in frustration: "Damn it!"

Just as he was cursing, the second round of gunfire from Tang Mo's troops suddenly came, and another group of soldiers standing in front of him fell, the air on the battlefield becoming thick with the stench of blood.

"Where are the cannons? Where are the cannons? Quick! Bring up the cannons! Quick!" As if suddenly awakened, he finally remembered that he had canister shot to try, he still had artillery to resist. read-only-on-MvLeMpYr

At this distance, it was about the effective range of canister shot; he still had a chance! He had a chance to turn defeat into victory... a chance!

As everyone bustled to start moving the heavy, cumbersome cannons, the third volley shattered everyone's illusions.

In the midst of gunfire that seemed to shriek like devils, someone finally recognized what was so unique about that gunfire: "What the hell is that? How can they reload so quickly?"

Another wave of Suthers soldiers fell... Now, the reason the Suthers formations had not yet collapsed was actually because things had happened too quickly, leaving everyone in a state of bewildered inertia.