Chapter 128: The Mountain God Beats the Drum

Zhang Daniu, who was in charge of the ignition, actually had little confidence in this "conscienceless cannon" that his master had ordered him to build on a sudden whim. To this simple-minded fellow, the contraption looked like nothing more than a giant firework. In Zhang’s experience, although the gunpowder formula his master had developed was significantly more powerful, the most he had ever seen it do was fire a musket with such force that the target vanished into thin air. As a blacksmith, Zhang Daniu understood the principles of gunpowder well and was very familiar with how it behaved when ignited. Naturally, this led the simpleton to underestimate the new type of explosive Zhao Hengyi had produced.

Long ago, the Han people had invented gunpowder and created all sorts of beautiful fireworks to light up the night sky. By the time of the current Great Yan Dynasty, the craft of making gunpowder and fireworks had not been lost; even beyond major cities like Jiangling, one could occasionally see fireworks set off by officials or wealthy families during festivals in the county town of Dangyang. Having become familiar with gunpowder, Zhang Daniu muttered to himself that the gunpowder bag his master had strictly ordered him to handle with extreme care was surely just a big firework. This so-called cannon barrel was merely a launching tube, and after lighting it, it would rely on the firework to… kill the enemy?

Accidents involving improper storage of fireworks or gunpowder leading to violent explosions were not unheard of, though a simpleton like Zhang Daniu was too ill-informed to have ever heard of them. Even if he had, he would likely still have disparaged the cannon design. After all, those major accidents were caused by entire warehouses full of fireworks or powder, whereas this cannon was launching a mere ten-kilogram bag. Consequently, among the entire group, the one least concerned about the trial firing was the very man who had built it: Zhang Daniu.

Of course, he would never voice these thoughts aloud. This device was his master’s pet project, born from his own suggestion. If he were just setting off big fireworks for the bandits to admire the scenery, and his master were to find out, he would surely be humiliated and enraged. Zhang was a man who knew how to read the room; he would never commit such a mistake to provoke his master’s temper.

As Zhang Daniu nonchalantly ignited the cannon, a dull thud echoed, the barrel vibrated, and the disc-shaped gunpowder bag shot out, hurtling toward the bandit stronghold on Mantou Mountain. Because it was an upward shot, the bag traced a parabolic arc in the air at a moderate speed, giving Zhang just enough time to shield his eyes and watch closely. "Hmm, the aim is a bit off; that kid doesn’t have enough skill with the calculations..."

Just as Zhang was inwardly criticizing Wang Erhu’s poor math, the gunpowder bag landed in the northeast corner of the stronghold. A split second later, a sound like a thunderclap detonated in everyone’s ears!

Boom!

The earth shook, and the mountains swayed! Dust and smoke billowed into the sky! The entire forest trembled, its leaves and branches rustling violently. Countless beasts roared in panic, and flocks of birds took flight in terror. It was as if the earth itself were collapsing! A thick pillar of smoke rose from the impact point, and the stronghold, which had stood firmly just moments before, was reduced to a heap of ruins.

The entire camp had been built of wood, and under the shockwave generated by the near-perfect ratio of ten kilograms of black powder, it collapsed in an instant. Everyone stood frozen, staring at the nonexistent bandit camp, unable to comprehend the scene before them. Sweat poured down Zhang Daniu’s bald head. The simpleton felt his legs turn to jelly and his whole body grow cold; he had bitten his lip so hard it bled, yet he could not stop shivering. Finally, he collapsed onto the ground, his previous aura of arrogant indifference completely shattered.

Even Zhao Hengyi, who had expected some effect, was startled by the sheer power of the blast. He was only a theorist; how could he have ever witnessed the detonation of a ten-kilogram gunpowder bag in his previous life? When the reality unfolded before his eyes, even he was stunned by the terrifying destructive power of the artillery that had made enemies tremble in another dimension.

"That... there can’t be anyone left alive in there, right?" Wang Erhu, who had been responsible for calculating the angle, had noticed the bag landing slightly off-target and had been worried. But after that thunderous explosion, all his concerns were swept away. He was certain he had seen a massive, transparent ring of pressure, shrouded in countless clouds of dust, sweep rapidly across the entire stronghold in every direction. Where that ring passed, houses collapsed, trees were uprooted, and even head-sized stones were blown away.

"Let’s go take a look!" Zhao Hengyi, now fully alert, was brimming with excitement. "Everyone, let’s go see. With this thing, the next time we face the barbarians..." He left the rest unsaid, but everyone around him understood. They couldn't help but think: if they had possessed such a weapon back at Yonggu City and fired just one shot into the barbarian camp...

What invincible cavalry, what grassland warriors—all of them would have been wiped out! No one believed that anyone could survive such a cataclysmic attack. The miserable sight within the ruins of Mantou Mountain confirmed their suspicions. None of the eighty-some bandits had survived. Those closer to the blast were shattered, while those further away were only slightly luckier, dying instantly from the shockwave with blood pouring from their seven orifices, at least leaving behind a whole body.

"Master, the stronghold was too small," Wang Dahu said, his experience showing. "We couldn't test the cannon's maximum lethality." It was true; all the bandits were dead beyond recognition, making it impossible to observe the weapon's effective kill radius.

"Let’s go, to the next location!" Zhao Hengyi was so stirred that he didn't even bother to have his men burn the ruins and the corpses. "Next time, shift the target angle intentionally." Wang Erhu understood immediately; he would definitely not make a mistake again.

The thunderclap on Mantou Mountain triggered a massive migration of birds and beasts in the forest, and the terrifying sound carried far to the nearby villages. A day later, a local hunter worked up the courage to sneak toward Mantou Mountain. When he saw from afar that the bandit stronghold had collapsed into ruins, he was struck with overwhelming astonishment. Carefully inspecting the wreckage, the hunter was terrified to find that not only was the camp destroyed, but every single bandit had been wiped out. After scavenging some valuables and striking it rich, the hunter fled the mountain, trembling with fear.

From then on, legends of the "Mountain God’s Drum" began to circulate in the neighboring villages. It was said that the Mountain God could no longer tolerate the bandits' cruelty and had sent down divine thunder to annihilate them. As if to prove this, the following evening, another bandit stronghold suffered the same divine punishment. This time, the thunder landed a bit off-center, but the bandits were still wiped out to the last man.

Long live the Mountain God!