132: Chapter 42 A cornered beast fights on.

When the news of the great naval victory reached Jiangning Prefecture, the entire city erupted.

The common people poured into the streets, setting off firecrackers and beating gongs and drums, making it as lively as the Lunar New Year.

Red paper scraps from firecrackers carpeted the bluestone roads, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur and the soaring joy of the people.

In teahouses and taverns, storytellers spun miraculous tales of Li Ling's fleet, claiming he was aided by heavenly deities, capable of summoning wind and rain, and had decimated the United Fleet of the foreign powers overnight.

Even those who had harbored doubts about Li Ling in the past changed their tune, beginning to call him the "Sea God" and the "General Who Protects the Nation."

By the docks of Jiangning Prefecture, several old fishermen stood on the shore, gazing out where the sea met the sky, their faces streaked with tears.

They had been bullied by the ships of Japan for most of their lives, always living in fear when going out to fish, terrified of encountering enemy patrol boats.

Now, hearing that Li Ling had completely crushed the enemy fleet, they were so overcome with emotion that they knelt by the docks, kowtowing toward the sea, muttering thanks to the heavens and to General Li.

But Li Ling had no time to bask in the joy of victory.

He didn't even have time to return to his residence for a hot meal before diving into the command center.

Three days later, he convened a military meeting at the command center.

A dozen core generals sat in the conference room, each with an excited flush on their faces, some whispering about the brilliant moments of the naval battle.

However, Li Ling's expression was exceptionally grave; his eye sockets were sunken, and dark stubble covered his chin, clearly indicating he hadn't slept much over the past few days.

"Gentlemen," he said, standing before the nautical chart and pointing to a mountainous area on the southeastern coast, "According to satellite reconnaissance and intelligence from the Special Forces, approximately three thousand remnants of the coalition forces have fled into the mountains at the border of Zhejiang and Fujian.

These men are well-equipped, well-trained, and carry a large amount of ammunition and supplies.

They have occupied several mountain peaks that are easy to defend and difficult to attack, attempting to hold their ground there while waiting for reinforcements."

The generals looked at each other.

Three thousand men did not seem like a major problem to them, having already won the battle.

Some even smiled lightly, feeling this was merely a mopping-up operation.

"Sir, it's only three thousand men," a young brigade commander stood up and said, "Give me one regiment, and I can wipe them out within three days."

Li Ling glanced at him and shook his head, "Do not underestimate the enemy.

These are not ordinary stragglers; they are the elite of the coalition forces, the professionally trained Marine Corps.

Furthermore, they occupy terrain that is extremely perilous—easy to defend and difficult to attack.

If we force an assault, our casualties will be heavy."

He walked to the map and circled several locations with a red pen, "Their main force is stationed here—a place called Eagle Beak Rock, with cliffs on three sides and only one small path leading up the mountain.

There is a water source at the summit, an ammunition depot, and several cannons salvaged from sunken ships.

If they are determined to hold their ground, even with heavy artillery bombardment, it will be difficult to take it in a short time."

The conference room fell silent.

Some set down their teacups, some furrowed their brows, and some stared at the spot circled in red on the map, lost in thought.

"Therefore," Li Ling put down the red pen, "I will not force an assault.

I will besiege them, cut off their supplies, and wait until they have exhausted their ammunition and food, and their morale has collapsed before we make our move."

"Besiege?" an old general frowned, "Sir, how long will that take?"

"At most, half a month," Li Ling said, "Although their ammunition is plentiful, their food reserves are limited.

While the water source on the mountain is sufficient, once we cut off their path down the mountain, they will be unable to obtain food supplies.

In half a month, they will either starve to death or surrender."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, "Of course, while we besiege them, the Special Forces must send small teams to infiltrate the mountains to scout enemy positions and sabotage their water source and ammunition depot.

The Air Force must also cooperate, flying over their heads a few times every day and dropping a few bombs to ensure they cannot get any proper rest."

The generals nodded one after another, finding the plan feasible.

That young brigade commander also reined in his dismissive expression and began to study the map seriously.

"Then it is settled," Li Ling made the final decision, "One brigade of the Third Army Group will be responsible for the encirclement, the Special Forces will dispatch two teams to assist, and the Air Force Reconnaissance Squadron will sortie twice a day.

The objective is to annihilate or force the surrender of these remaining enemies."

After the meeting adjourned, Li Ling remained alone in the command center, staring at the markers indicating the enemy positions on the map for a long time.

Outside the window, the setting sun revealed half its face from behind the clouds, casting its final rays onto the sea, making the water shimmer.

"System," he murmured in his mind, "Do you think they will surrender?"

"Probably not," the system's voice was calm, "These men are the die-hards of the coalition forces, possessing intense loyalty to Meijian Country and the British.

They would rather die in battle than surrender.

Therefore, host, you need to be prepared for a tough fight."

Li Ling nodded without speaking.

His fingers tapped lightly twice on the location of Eagle Beak Rock on the map, as if feeling something.

Then he turned and walked out of the command center, put on his coat, and strode toward the barracks.

He needed to personally inspect the preparations of the encircling troops to ensure every detail was foolproof.

He knew the system was right.

Some people will not yield easily.

But he didn't care.

On this land, he had encountered too many such enemies.

Warlord Yan Xishan would not yield, Yuan Shikai would not yield, and Zhang Zuolin would not yield.

Every opponent thought they could win, until they truly faced his army and weapons.

The three thousand men on Eagle Beak Rock were just another example.

The terrain of Eagle Beak Rock was even more perilous than Li Ling had anticipated.

It was an isolated peak standing amidst the mountains, with nearly vertical cliffs on three sides, and only one narrow mountain path on the south side leading up.

The mountain path was winding, flanked by dense shrubs and scattered rocks, with a turn every few dozen meters; any attacker would be exposed to the defenders' firepower.

The rock face was covered in moss and cracks, with water seeping in some places, freezing into icicles in the winter cold like upside-down sharp swords.

Commander Zhao Tieshan, a Special Forces team leader, lay behind a large boulder at the foot of the mountain, carefully observing the mountainside with binoculars.

The binocular lenses shimmered with a faint blue light in the morning sun; the distant mountain path and rock textures were clearly visible, and he could even catch the faint reflections of gun muzzles on the mountainside.

He had been lying there for a full two hours, his body stiff as a stone, but his hands were as steady as if they were welded to the binoculars.

"Captain, the enemy has set up at least thirty firing points," his deputy whispered, "All of them Heavy Machine Guns and Mortars, with overlapping fire grids covering everything; there are no blind spots.

Even if we managed to sneak to the mountainside, we would be riddled with bullets by the crossfire."

Commander Zhao Tieshan lowered the binoculars, his brows furrowed tightly.

His face was covered in camouflage paint, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes that looked like two blades.

He had been engaged in special operations for over three years, having followed Li Ling since the bandit suppression campaign in the first volume, and had seen all kinds of enemies and terrain.

But a place like Eagle Beak Rock was indeed difficult to handle.

A frontal assault would result in too many casualties, and there was no path for a flanking maneuver; the only way was to besiege them and wait until the enemy couldn't hold on any longer.

"Pass the order down: all teams are to take cover in place and do not expose yourselves," Commander Zhao Tieshan lowered his voice, "Block all paths down the mountain at the foot of the hill; don't let a single bird fly out."

"Yes!"

The Special Forces soldiers quickly dispersed, setting up hidden observation posts and blockade lines all around the foot of the mountain.

They wore camouflage combat uniforms and were wrapped in camouflage netting, almost merging with the surrounding rocks and shrubs.

Viewed from a distance, it was impossible to detect their presence.

Some lay in small earthen pits, covered in dead leaves; others hid in the branches of old pine trees like hibernating animals; and some simply buried themselves under the snow, exposing only a breathing tube and a periscope.

Meanwhile, the Air Force Reconnaissance Squadron also sortied.

Four biplanes took off from the temporary airfield, the roar of their engines echoing through the valley, startling a flock of birds perched in the treetops.

They circled over Eagle Beak Rock for half an hour, dropping dozens of small bombs.

Although the bombs were not very powerful, the explosions and flashes echoed in the valley, shaking the defenders with terror.

Columns of black smoke rose from the summit, and rubble and dirt were blasted everywhere; a few bombs landed precisely near the defenders' trenches, overturning several sections of earth walls.

"Damn it, planes again!" a coalition soldier shrank behind a bunker, covering his ears, his face pale, "They come every day; won't they let anyone sleep?"

The squad leader next to him leaned against the stone wall, holding a cold piece of compressed biscuit in his hands, took a bite, chewed for a long time, but couldn't swallow.

His lips were cracked, his eyes were bloodshot, and there was uncleaned rheum in the corners of his eyes; clearly, he hadn't slept for days.

The compressed biscuit was hard as a rock; he chewed for a long time until his jaw was sore before barely managing to swallow a small piece.

"Endure it," he said listlessly, "In a few more days, it will be better once the supplies arrive."

"Supplies?" the soldier smiled bitterly, "Our supply line was cut off a long time ago.

The foot of the mountain is full of Li Ling's men; not even a mouse can crawl up."

The squad leader said nothing more, simply chewing silently on that rock-hard biscuit. His eyes were hollow, like a dry well, devoid of any visible emotion.

By the fifth day of the siege, food supplies on the mountain began to run critically low. The original daily ration of two meals per person had been reduced to one, and the portion size was only half of what it used to be.

The soldiers were crazed with hunger; some began digging for wild vegetables and gnawing on tree bark, while others even started eyeing squirrels and wild rabbits. In the early morning mountain forest, the rustling of people searching for food was everywhere, like a pack of starving beasts hunting for prey.

But the most terrifying thing was not the hunger, but the despair.

At the foot of the mountain, Li Ling's troops were reinforcing the encirclement every day, building denser fortifications and establishing more firepower positions. Rows of barbed wire were stretched out one after another, trenches were dug deeper, and sandbags were piled as high as small hills.

Overhead, aircraft appeared punctually every day, dropping bombs and leaflets. The leaflets read: "Surrender and you will not be killed; prisoners will be treated well. Your commanders have abandoned you; do not throw your lives away for someone else's ambition."

The leaflets drifted down onto the mountain peak like snowflakes, the white paper glistening in the sunlight, speckling the grey-brown mountain top. Some soldiers picked up the leaflets, their fingers trembling slightly as they read the words. Some crumpled them up and threw them away, only to secretly pick them back up a moment later and hide them in their pockets. The words burrowed into their minds like worms, making them begin to doubt what they were fighting for.

"Squad leader, can we... really keep holding out?" a young soldier huddled in the corner asked, his voice trembling. "I heard that Li Ling never kills prisoners. He gives those who surrender food and clothes, and even lets them go home. I still have my old mother at home; I don't want to die here."

The squad leader remained silent for a long time, then sighed: "Wait a little longer. Let's see what the officers say."

But the officers themselves were arguing as well. In the camp, several coalition officers sat huddled around a dying campfire, debating what to do. The firelight reflected on everyone's faces, clearly illuminating their haggard expressions. The campfire crackled, sending sparks hissing onto the damp ground.

"We must break out!" a stubble-faced major slapped his thigh, "If we wait any longer, we'll all starve to death here! Instead of sitting here waiting for death, we might as well make a desperate attempt!"

"Break out?" another officer sneered, "How? There is at least a brigade's worth of troops at the foot of the mountain, not to mention Special Forces and aircraft. With the few men we have, charging down there is just suicide."

"Then what do you propose? Surrender?"

"Surrender is better than starving to death. At least if we're alive, there's still a chance."

"Bullshit! We are soldiers, how can we surrender? What did we say when we signed up for this? Swear loyalty to the death!"

"Then come up with a solution yourself!"

In the end, no one could convince the other. A deathly silence fell around the campfire, with only the crackling of burning wood echoing in the mountain wind. The major lowered his head, burying his hands in his hair, his shoulders trembling slightly. The officer who advocated for surrender leaned against the rock wall, eyes closed, a glimmer of tears flashing in the corners of his eyes.

On the tenth day of the siege, a Special Forces team crept up the mountainside under the cover of darkness.

They climbed up from the cliffs at the back of the mountain. The cliff face was as steep as if cut by a knife, with almost no place to gain a foothold, and a thin layer of ice on the rocks made it nearly impossible to grip. But the Special Forces soldiers clung to the cliff like geckos, using their daggers to chisel out shallow pits, moving upward step by step. Their fingertips were frozen purple, but no one stopped. The entire process took three hours without making a single sound, save for the occasional falling rock fragment that echoed faintly in the valley.

After reaching the summit, they quietly crept near the enemy's ammunition depot. The depot was located in a natural cave, its entrance blocked by sandbags and wooden planks, with several sentries patrolling back and forth. The Special Forces soldiers lay in wait in the bushes fifty meters away, waiting for an opportunity. In the gap when the sentries turned away, they silently moved up, dispatched the sentries with daggers, and planted a timed bomb. The timer was set for forty minutes later, giving them enough time to evacuate safely.

Once placed, they returned the way they came without a sound, disappearing into the night just as they had arrived. While retreating, they didn't forget to scatter a dozen jumping mines along the mountain path; these were designed to be triggered by stepping on them, exploding upon contact, and then popping up to continue exploding. This was a new type of weapon Li Ling had equipped them with, absolute black technology for this era, specifically designed to deal with pursuers.

At dawn, two deafening roars came from the mountain peak, shaking the entire mountain. The light from the explosion turned half the sky red, and thick smoke billowed out, like a black dragon churning in the morning light. Rubble and debris were blown hundreds of meters away, some even rolling down to the foot of the mountain.

"Boom! Boom!"

The ammunition depot had been destroyed. A massive fireball shot into the sky, and fragments traced countless arcs through the air, clattering onto the surrounding rocks and trees. Immediately after, a few muffled thuds came from the mountain path—that was the jumping mines being triggered. Several soldiers attempting to go down the mountain to investigate screamed in agony as they were blasted; one of them was blown several meters away and was already lifeless when he hit the ground.

"It's over... the ammunition depot is gone..." a coalition officer slumped to the ground, his face ashen, "We don't even have bullets left, what are we supposed to defend with?"

Without the ammunition depot, the defenders' firepower plummeted to freezing point. The Heavy Machine Guns couldn't fire, the Mortars had only a few shells left, and the rifles in the soldiers' hands had become useless clubs. They had no weapons left now except for rocks and bayonets. Some began to secretly discard their rifle slings, while others shoved their rifle barrels into the dirt, attempting to destroy their weapons to have a reason to surrender.

That afternoon, a white flag was raised on the mountain peak.

That white flag was made from a white shirt hung on a rifle, fluttering in the wind, looking exceptionally pathetic. A coalition major held it up, leading a dozen senior officers down the mountain. Their uniforms were tattered, their faces covered in dust and exhaustion, eyes sunken, lips cracked; they looked like a group of ghosts crawling out of a grave. Some used wooden sticks as crutches, some had to support each other to stand, and others had boots worn through at the soles, revealing frostbitten, red toes.

Commander Zhao Tieshan led a dozen Special Forces soldiers to meet them. His muzzle was slightly lowered, but his finger remained on the trigger guard, ready to handle any sudden situation at any time.

"Everyone, drop your weapons!" Commander Zhao Tieshan's voice echoed in the silent valley, "Hands on your heads, crouch on the ground! Walk down one by one!"

The coalition officers complied obediently. They threw away the rifles in their hands that had no bullets left, held their heads with both hands, and walked down the mountain with their heads bowed. The more than one thousand soldiers behind them also lined up, walking down one after another; some were still trembling, some were weeping softly, and some looked up at the sky, their eyes filled with the relief of having survived a catastrophe. The line dragged out long, their footsteps rustling on the gravel road.

"Reporting, My Lord!" Commander Zhao Tieshan stood before the line of prisoners, "The defenders of Eagle Beak Rock have all surrendered. Two thousand eight hundred prisoners captured, various weapons and ammunition seized. No enemy officers or soldiers died; all have been safely escorted down the mountain."

Li Ling stood in the command post, watching the dejected prisoners through binoculars, and nodded. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, but he quickly returned to a calm expression.

"Gather them at the temporary prisoner-of-war camp, register them, and distribute food and medicine. Those who have been starving for days, give them thin porridge first; don't let them eat too much at once, their stomachs won't be able to handle it." He said to his adjutant, "Interrogate their officers and find out how many more people and weapons they have hidden."

"Yes!"

The operation to wipe out the remnants at Eagle Beak Rock took twelve days in total. Li Ling's troops forced the surrender of two thousand eight hundred coalition elites at the cost of zero casualties.

After the news spread, those remnants of the coalition forces who were still stubbornly resisting in various places completely lost hope. Some chose to surrender, some fled under the cover of night, and some even chose suicide in their despair. Within just one week, the remaining enemy remnants lurking in the coastal mountainous areas were basically cleared out, with only a few small units left making a final struggle—but they could no longer stir up any trouble.

But Li Ling knew that this was just an appetizer. The real tough battles were still ahead. The warlords in the north would not yield as easily as these remnants; they had deeper foundations and more complex backgrounds. He had to make thorough preparations.

Standing before the window of the command post, he gazed at the grey, hazy northern sky, his eyes sharp as an eagle's. The wind blew from the north, carrying the scent of dry, cold dust, as if foretelling something. The distant mountains were layered in the twilight, like an unfinished painting.

"Next," he whispered to himself, "it's time for the real deal."