Then, he looked at Chris Bolton, “Did you bring the caltrops I asked for?”

“They’re here.” A general stepped forward. “But for what purpose?”

“When the wokou give chase, scatter them behind the caravan.” Robert Bennett narrowed his eyes. “The wokou wear straw sandals—what will they do when they see the caravan?”

“They’ll definitely pursue along the main road, hissing…”

When the straw-sandaled wokou step on the caltrops—what a scene that will be!

“Did you find those old bamboo poles?” Robert Bennett asked calmly.

“We found them.” Brian Walker didn’t understand why Robert Bennett wanted them to find old bamboo.

“Too bad there’s not enough time.” Robert Bennett sighed with some regret. “Summon the bravest in the army. Also, offer a reward: for every wokou killed, the merit reward will be doubled—no, tripled.”

Men die for wealth, birds for food!

Soon, several dozen tall soldiers assembled.

“In this battle, you will charge at the front. After the battle, you’ll have priority in rewards and recognition!”

Robert Bennett first made a promise, and the dozens of soldiers looked at Chris Bolton.

Chris Bolton said in a deep voice, “What James Bennett says is as if I myself have said it.”

At this point, Chris Bolton had an arrow on the string and had no choice but to shoot.

Robert Bennett said, “Trim the bamboo, leave the branches, and sharpen the tips like spears.”

After that, the dozens of soldiers began to drill.

Over a hundred soldiers wielded long knives and spears, feinting a charge. Opposite them, shield bearers held the front line, followed by dozens of soldiers holding the modified bamboo poles.

“Stab!”

“Kill!”

With shield bearers protecting the front, the bamboo spear thrusts were very steady.

Just one strike forced the enemy’s front row to retreat in succession. If they got close to the enemy in battle and struck with full force, many would surely fall.

Chris Bolton’s eyes narrowed. “This…”

Brian Walker blinked. “What kind of formation is this?”

A variant of the mandarin duck formation… Robert Bennett crossed his arms and waited. After half an hour of drilling, he said, “Sharpening your weapons at the last minute is better than nothing. Let’s move out!”

Everyone was facing a skirmish. If the first wave of attack succeeded, the Ming soldiers’ fear of the wokou would be dispelled by the promise of rewards.

Chris Bolton approached Robert Bennett and coughed lightly. “Where did you learn this formation, Maocai?”

“In a dream,” Robert Bennett replied earnestly.

Old Qi, forgive me.

I haven’t offended you, have I… Chris Bolton naturally didn’t believe it. He suppressed his doubts and waited to see how the formation would perform in battle.

If it worked, he’d be willing to humble himself and even become a disciple.

…

“Chief, everyone is starving. Some are whispering about running back to Ming territory.”

“Some are even spreading bad rumors about you!”

John Adams listened to all this blankly. After a long while, he sighed, “Enough, attack!”

If he didn’t attack now, he knew he wouldn’t survive the night.

He left a dozen or so old and weak to guard the ships, and led the remaining hundred-plus wokou ashore.

“Attack!”

That afternoon, wokou scouts spotted the caravan.

“They’re just three li ahead.”

“Any sign of enemy troops?” John Adams looked around. “None.”

Everyone fell silent, only the sound of growling stomachs could be heard.

So damn hungry!

John Adams took a deep breath. “It seems Heaven hasn’t abandoned me, John Adams!”

He thought of that young girl, whose father had no sons… If he married her, John Adams wouldn’t have to work hard anymore.

At this thought, all his caution vanished.

“Eat the last of the rations.”

The rice balls, mostly wild vegetables, tasted like delicacies to the wokou, and each person only got one.

“Now we have no more rice balls. Either we succeed in raiding, or we all starve together!” John Adams thought of burning his boats, drew his sword, and shouted, “Attack!”

Three li away, their pace quickened…

Someone in the caravan looked back and screamed, “Wokou!”

“Run!”

Everyone panicked, fleeing with the carts.

As they sped up, sacks kept falling off the carts.

The contents of the sacks spilled all over the road, even on both sides.

“It’s rice!”

The wokou howled.

“Heaven is so kind to me!” John Adams saw the gleaming white rice and was moved to tears.

“Kill!”

He charged ahead, ready to kill someone to boost morale.

He was fast, but when a sharp pain shot through his foot, he kept running on momentum…

“Ah!”

Screams kept coming from behind.

“Not good!” John Adams looked down and saw caltrops among the rice.

“What are you waiting for?” In the woods nearby, Robert Bennett almost had a feather fan in hand as he calmly pointed outside. “Attack!”

“Kill!”

First came a volley of arrows, then Chris Bolton’s men charged out in the formation they’d practiced.

“The formation’s a mess!” Robert Bennett shook his head, following behind. “But it’s enough.”

“It’s the Ming army!”

John Adams was not angry but delighted. When he saw there were only a few hundred Ming soldiers, he laughed even harder. “They dare ambush me, John Adams? Are they just here to die? Gather and charge!”

The wokou hopped through the caltrops and quickly regrouped.

Bandits are even more disciplined than government troops… Robert Bennett shook his head helplessly.