Section Thirty-Six: The Day the Hexagram Banner Rose (Part Two)

Grant took the final step up the stone staircase and glanced back at Wei Wuji, who had deliberately lagged behind. He smiled faintly, showing not the slightest trace of guilt for having used the other. "You can't put it that way. You want to save Miss Cecily, and so do I. We're partners, not users. As for drawing the garrison's attention, that was my plan from the start. So when I was recognized, I was actually glad—because then the garrison would focus on capturing me. They've tangled with me before and know that, with too few men, they'd never catch me. Of course, in such circumstances, I was in great danger. That's why, when Leonardo and I devised this plan, he strongly opposed it—he believed it was unworkable, or that even if we seized the city, if I died, it would all be meaningless. But with you here, my chances of success were much higher. If you feel I used you, I apologize. Please accept my apology. You will be a friend to both me, Grant, and the Revolutionary League."

After voicing his concern, Wei Wuji’s expression grew somewhat unpleasant. His pride was formidable; though in the end nothing had happened to him, and the Revolutionary League had succeeded in entering the city, he couldn’t shake the discomfort of being manipulated. Yet in the face of Grant’s sincere apology, Wei Wuji's countenance gradually softened. After all, Grant had braved danger at his side—not the sort to sell out his companions for his own gain. On the contrary, Grant’s audacity and caution inspired a sense of kinship in Wei Wuji.

“It’s not difficult for me to accept, but Cecily is still missing. The Revolutionary League must assist in the search.” Wei Wuji mounted the stone steps, standing shoulder to shoulder with Grant.

“Of course. Even if you didn’t ask, it’s my duty. Mr. Hegel, thank you—without you, I wouldn’t have escaped the prison so easily. Your artillery barrage was perfectly timed, disrupting the enemy’s deployment. Otherwise, we’d have been in grave danger. Once we secure victory, I’ll mobilize all resources to search for Cecily. From the information we just acquired at the prison, the woman who was captured wasn’t Miss Cecily. She only resembled her and was taken by Hendry by mistake. Someone must have rescued the real Cecily, but we’ll need to find someone in the know to learn the details.”

Hegel, who hurried up in desperate hope for news of his daughter, felt uneasy upon hearing Grant’s words. Still, it was better than the worst-case scenario—at least Cecily hadn’t fallen into enemy hands.

“Comrades, we now stand upon the walls of Gaul City. Simply being here is a victory. The enemy is now launching a frenzied counterattack, hoping to wrest away the fruits of our success. What should we do?” Grant raised his hand and called out to the garrison atop the city walls, both the veteran members of the Revolutionary League and the newly risen squads from the old Gaul City order.

Metal shot whistled up from below, but Grant seemed not to notice, speaking calmly and unhurriedly until he finished. His composure infected those around him; flags, spears, and muskets were raised and lowered in unison across the battlements, like a forest swaying in the wind.

Battle erupted between the walls and the streets below. Musket balls flew everywhere. The First E Battalion’s musketeers and a handful of archers climbed onto rooftops to exchange fire with defenders, while formations of pikemen launched close-quarter assaults on the gates. Meanwhile, Revolutionary League sentries, tasked with monitoring enemy movements, sounded the alarm: the infantry battalion camped outside the city had noticed the chaos within Gaul and was hurrying from their encampment to the city gates. Inside, Revolutionary League members swiftly joined forces with the insurgents, reinforcing the defenses and using the firepower of the towers to launch counterattacks.

“We should bombard them with artillery,” Leonardo suggested. It was a sound idea. Now that the First E Battalion occupied the towers, and the cannons were in the hands of the Revolutionary League, they held a significant advantage. The enemy musketeers, some on rooftops, some in the streets below, would be vulnerable—muskets, which had to be loaded from the muzzle, were ill-suited for scattered skirmishing, making them prime targets for cannon fire. The pikemen and axemen directly assaulting the towers were not the main concern; of the three infantry battalions inside the city, over half were musketeers, leaving only one and a half battalions capable of close combat.

Though the enemy’s numbers were not insignificant, and their close-combat troops even outnumbered the original Revolutionary League force, the narrow stairways favored the defenders. For the First E Battalion’s melee fighters, storming the towers would be extremely difficult. Furthermore, with six old-order squads having joined the uprising, the Revolutionary League now outnumbered the enemy’s close-combat troops. If they used artillery to bombard enemy positions on the rooftops and in the streets, victory would be only a matter of time.

“No,” Grant immediately vetoed the seemingly foolproof plan. “This is Gaul City, and we are no longer guerrillas. Look below—the streets are filled with soldiers, yes, but there are still terrified civilians sheltering in homes and corners. These houses are their property. We’re not here to loot them, much less destroy their homes. We’re here to liberate them. If we seek a quick victory by indiscriminate bombardment, then we’re worse than the First E Battalion. At least they haven’t shelled the houses inside the city.”

“Thank you, Leader!” called one of the newly risen soldiers. Truthfully, about a third of the insurgent soldiers had joined out of genuine conviction, another third had been persuaded or coerced, and the last third had been forced—surrounded at the time, and faced with immediate execution if they didn’t join. But after Grant’s words, the great majority of these insurgents came to believe the Revolutionary League truly was different from the old officials and masters.

“Artillery is unsuitable for the interior, but can be used outside,” Wei Wuji observed coolly.

“Indeed,” Grant replied. “Cannons must not be aimed at civilians, but they may be aimed at soldiers. They must not shell the houses of the people, but they can bombard the First E Battalion’s infantry outside the walls and the governor’s mansion. Let the cannons speak! They represent the fury of the oppressed, the proclamation of Commineson!”

Hendry and Colonel Smith, who had replaced Major General Antonio as deputy commander of the First E Battalion, anxiously awaited the outside infantry’s cooperation for a successful counterattack. Yet the thunder of the cannons dashed their hopes. Their only consolation was that, aside from the initial barrage that struck Hendry’s mansion to facilitate Grant’s escape, the artillery had not bombarded the infantry within the city. Thus, the First E Battalion inside could continue the counteroffensive. Otherwise, if the enemy used cannons to suppress them, their musketeers would have been blown to pieces. As it was, their musket tactics—owing to the slow and cumbersome loading process and limited accuracy—still required them to form dense firing lines to maximize their firepower.