Chapter 182: Capitalizing on Success (Part 2)

What Liu Yu wasn’t aware of was that, even as he remained unaware of certain battle details, soldiers were already carrying out this strategy.
“Attack! We must attack!”
An assistant company commander gestured wildly, shouting at his men, “Don’t be afraid of their overwhelming numbers—we have enough reinforcements!”
In truth, his forces were extremely weak. After a whole day of fighting, the entire infantry company had only sixty soldiers left. The company commander was dead, two platoon leaders were injured, and there were even more casualties among the lower ranks. Yet this didn’t affect their morale at all.
“We are the Xiliu Camp!”
Strictly speaking, they weren’t the legitimate Xiliu Camp but rather the Second Xiliu Camp led by Liu Suiyun. Yet it was precisely this “Second Camp” designation that filled every soldier with such high morale.
Even though over half of them were killed in battle and two-thirds of the officers were lost, their morale wasn’t affected at all. On the contrary, some officers and veterans volunteered to take command. This highly capable assistant company commander gained unanimous support from the entire company.
The soldiers watched his urging with fervent enthusiasm, chewing on their blood-stained rations as they rested in the cool night breeze: “We’ll follow you! Wherever you go, we’ll follow!”
The troops’ morale was extremely high. Only such elite forces could maintain such morale despite such heavy losses: “Good! We’ll strike from the enemy’s flank and crush them in one fell swoop!”
He turned to another company commander and asked, “What’s your opinion?”
This infantry company was slightly better organized, with over eighty combatants. It didn’t belong to the Second Xiliu Camp but rather to the newly formed Fengyun Camp, established just over three months earlier. Yet its morale was also high due to recent victories: “We’ll follow our leader!”
Both infantry companies had lost contact with their superiors. Although the Fengyun Camp company was better organized and had a company commander in charge, it voluntarily accepted command from the Second Xiliu Camp: “We can start attacking right away!”
“Start attacking immediately!” This assistant company commander was bold yet cautious. He had participated in several attacks on the Danfeng position and knew the terrain there by heart even with his eyes closed: “We’ll strike from the side, attacking Elminga’s forces and creating chaos along the way.”
Together, the two companies had only 150 soldiers, yet the Danfeng area ahead of them was defended by a much larger force, including remnants of the Biser Guard and Elminga’s two brigades. The force they were directly attacking was roughly one battalion of Elminga’s troops that had been taken in as prisoners.
“We attack!”
……
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
At this moment, Elminga had no thought of resting. His nerves were taut as a string. When gunshots rang out, he cried in panic, “The enemy is attacking! Organize resistance immediately!”
Over a thousand meters away, Elminga’s five or six hundred soldiers were suddenly attacked by the Xiliu Camp in a state of panic. The local infantry was nearly scattered in an instant, but the Foreign Legion fought tenaciously.

From the night sky, thin red lines could be seen everywhere—those were the infantry of both sides fighting fiercely, shouting, and battling to the death.
“Xiliu Battalion, advance and attack!”
“Fengyun Battalion, follow the leader!”
The two infantry companies were like tigers descending the mountain; they overwhelmed any enemy in their path with intense fire. The Foreign Legion and some self-organized French troops launched repeated counterattacks, only to be shattered again and again.
The entire camp was filled with gunfire. Neither side could see the other clearly, shooting based only on sound and faint light. The two infantry companies drove the French out of the camp but encountered reinforcements arriving from the French side.
“Xiliu Battalion! Advance!”
Although outnumbered, the Black Flag Army’s fighting spirit remained undiminished. Hearing the ongoing gunfire in the distance further boosted their courage.
“Attack!”
Faced with such an assault, the French had no way of determining the size of the enemy force; they assumed it must be quite large.
Though it was a night attack, the Black Flag Army, capable of defeating the remnants of an entire battalion, must have numbered at least five to six hundred men. Thus, they too deployed a large force, and chaotic battles erupted along the intersecting fronts.
Such a night battle was highly disadvantageous for the retreating French forces. In the daytime battles, many of their units had been disrupted, and now they fought almost without any officers, acting on instinct.
“There are many enemies in the night attack!”
“Many enemies!”
However, the two attacking infantry companies, being too small, struggled greatly. But as expected, just over ten minutes into the battle, gunshots could be heard from both the left and right flanks.
It was the Black Flag Army’s troops arriving spontaneously to join the fight. Though they didn’t know the exact number, it made them realize they weren’t fighting alone—that was enough.
“We are the 3rd Platoon, 2nd Company of the Tiger Battalion!”
“3rd Company of the 2nd Xiliu Battalion, 4th Company of the Fengyun Battalion!”
Without unnecessary words, continuing to advance was their best option. The two units did not join forces but instead charged forward separately.
All around, more and more Black Flag Army troops joined the battle, with gunshots coming from four or five directions. In many areas, the fighting was intense, indicating a significant number of troops involved.
The French were also in chaos, especially Erminger’s forces, which were in terrible shape. Many units retreated as soon as they came into contact, particularly the Vietnamese natives and conscripts, who played a very negative role.
“God!” Neither Erminger nor Bissell could turn the situation around. The situation before them was a mess, especially for Erminger himself, who could no longer control his own troops. He saw groups of soldiers and conscripts abandoning their duties and running away.
He couldn’t think of many solutions and could only pull out his pistol and shoot into the air, trying to drive the retreating troops back: “Go back! Go back!”
But only a few were driven away; the rest ignored the gunshots entirely: “Run!”

“Run! Run!”
Lieutenant Colonel Bissell was in a slightly better situation; after all, he had organized troops at his disposal, and each unit knew its position well. Yet they showed little willingness to provide rescue.
On such a chaotic night, they could barely take care of themselves, but an even greater disaster was on the way.