Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 123 The Warrior is Gone
More than a thousand "Tartar" troops soon appeared in the field of vision, and more than a thousand people mixed with mule and horse teams slowly advanced.

Here they come!

Yan Jizu's heart tightened, and he felt as if an invisible hammer was hitting his chest. The feeling of weakness and powerlessness swept through his body like the rising tide.

He staggered back several steps and almost fell in front of his soldiers.

Holding onto the wall tightly, his nails almost digging into the stone, he took a deep breath and stood firm. Fortunately, he did not embarrass himself in front of the soldiers, otherwise the consequences would be unimaginable...

He looked back at the troops gathering in the city. Three thousand soldiers gathered sparsely at the foot of the wall, and from time to time someone whispered terrifying words about the Tatars' heavy attack.

Even though Yan Jizu was behind a high wall, he could still feel the soldiers' cowardice and fear.

Yan Jizu watched the laborers carrying city defense materials, as stones and logs were carried to the top of the city wall one by one.

Some laborers, wearing scarves on their faces, set up several large pots by the wall. A paste-like, straw-yellow substance was boiling in the pots, and waves of foul odor rose into the sky.

Soldiers were hurriedly running around the city walls carrying supplies, checking arrows in quivers, or moving clumsy and crude French cannons towards the outside of the city.

The artillery deployed in Linqing were all brought by him. The range of the four Francois cannons did not exceed 400 steps. Apart from the faster firing rate caused by the special structure of the "mother-and-sub-cannon", they had no advantages at all.

Yan Jizu murmured to himself, hoping that it was just a small force out to collect food and that the main force of the Jiannu army was not following behind.

"Woo——"

With the sound of a long horn, more than a thousand Tartar soldiers stopped one or two miles outside the city.

More than a thousand people stood in position, forming a square formation like iron blocks, and the colorful flags showed the fact that they were "Tartars".

Yan Jizu had heard that the Tartars were divided into eight banners, which were composed of four main colors and four border colors.

The flag of this team has far more than four colors, there are even eight or nine colors mixed together.

However, the "Tartars" were far away, and Yan Jizu could not see the armor patterns of these people clearly, nor could he tell which banners of the Tartars they were the vanguard of.

Suddenly, the Tartar raised his musket and spear high in his hand and roared out in a deafening roar with unclear pronunciation: "Wind! Wind! Strong wind! Strong wind!"

Although they only had one or two thousand men, they roared with the fierce momentum of tens of thousands of troops, as if they could push down the city walls of Linqing if they rushed together.

The Tartar army is so elite, with more than a thousand people moving in unison and meticulously. Even the elite imperial guards of the imperial court are no better than this!

"Is this the real 'Manchuria' of the Tartars? It's so terrifying!"

A civil servant had a dull look in his eyes, his mouth open, saliva dripping down the corners of his mouth without him realizing it, and he kept muttering the rumor that "if there are less than ten thousand Jurchens, they will be invincible if there are more."

At this time, the "Tartar" team sent a team of ten people to approach Linqing City, and the leading soldier held high a red, white and blue tricolor flag.

Could it be that the Tartars were not satisfied with the system of four colors and created a new system with one banner and mixed colors?
Yan Jizu did not let his soldiers fire their guns to injure anyone, but wanted to see what tricks this Tartar vanguard would play.

It was probably the same old trick of persuading people to surrender and give up their city, or to massacre those who resisted.

"We are the Black Flag Battalion, commanded by the Shanggu Guerrilla in Henan. We are marching north to defend the emperor under the orders of Governor Xiong. We are new here and have no information on the Jiannu. Please advise us on where the Tartars are causing rebellion..."

"Hmm? Are they soldiers from Henan who came to support the emperor?"

A civilian officer widened his eyes in astonishment, and the fear of surviving the disaster instantly turned into joy at the arrival of friendly forces.

Several other middle and lower-level generals also thought so. The more they looked, the more they felt that the infantrymen in "different costumes" were their own people.

"Don't trust the Tartars!"

Yan Jizu knew very well that the Nu chief had recruited a group of surrendered soldiers who could speak Chinese.

When the Denglai Rebellion broke out, tens of thousands of Dongjiang Town soldiers defected to the Tatars and brought a large number of firearms and heavy artillery, artillery-casting craftsmen, and gunners trained by Western barbarian instructors to the Nu chieftain.

"Here is Governor Xiong's transfer order..."

The "Tartar" wearing an iron helmet had no pigtails, but he spoke Nanjing Mandarin fluently.

Most of the civil and military officials believed it, but Yan Jizu remained vigilant.

Although he did not allow the soldiers who claimed to be friendly forces to enter the city, he still lowered the hanging basket to pull up the official documents and the guerrilla's own letters.

After a group of civil and military officials compared the paper, handwriting, and seal of the official document, they confirmed that this was undoubtedly the transfer order from Governor Xiong, and these people were indeed Shanggu's guerrilla soldiers.

After all, Xiong Wencan served as governor of several provinces, and his fame and authority were well known to everyone.

But this army is called the Black Flag Battalion/Black Flag Army, which doesn’t sound impressive at all.

"There have been reports of Tatar activity in the Julu area to the northwest and the Dezhou area to the northeast. Everyone should hurry into the city to avoid running into the main force of the Tatars and getting killed!"

"Thank you for the information! Our troops will head to Julu to fight against the Tartars!" The general said as he turned back to lead his troops to set off.

"Black Flag Battalion soldiers, please stay!"

Yan Jizu didn't care about the governor's dignity and shouted on the wall.

These more than a thousand men are visibly strong and powerful. If they could stay to help defend Linqing, not to mention fighting against the Tartars, at least they would have no pressure in defending Linqing.

Seeing that the soldiers of the Black Flag Camp did not turn back, Yan Jizu hurriedly ordered his men to lower down a few clever soldiers to try to keep them, and even sent out the Linqing military governor to make sure that this elite force would stay.

The people did stop, but they were still determined to kill the Tartars.

The military governor secretly praised the loyalty and bravery of this army. There are not many warriors like this these days who "knowingly do something that is impossible" anyway.

They are all people like Liu Zeqing who avoid fighting to protect themselves...

Such brave warriors must not be allowed to die. Every loss of a loyal and brave man means a loss of strength to protect the country and the people. The military governor waved his hands, as if giving a detailed explanation.

He earnestly persuaded the Black Flag Battalion to change their minds. "General Lu will take care of the Julu area. How can you, with such a small force, protect yourselves if you encounter the main force of the Tartars? Rather than die in vain, why not help defend Linqing and protect the people there? That would be a sign of loyalty to the country!"

"I appreciate your kindness, but we are under military orders..." The general pointed at his brother, "Tell this Daotai master what we are doing in the north!"

"Kill the Tartars! Kill the Tartars! Kill the Tartars!"

More than a thousand people raised their arms and shouted, and the roar that came together shook the heavens and the earth. The heart of the military governor was trembling with the strong murderous aura, and Governor Yan on the wall was also moved by this team of warriors.

Yan Jizu ignored his personal safety and led cartloads of food out of Linqing City.

"This thousand dan of grain and the mules that carry it will be used to supply you warriors!"

The governor also ordered his personal guards to pour wine for him and the officers of the Black Flag Camp.

Despite the icy cold of winter, the governor felt a warmth in his heart. It was as if the frustration and humiliation he had endured under the Tartars for years had finally been released here in the Black Flag Camp.

He personally raised the wine glass and said, "May I ask your name, young friend?"

"He Lusi, the captain of the Black Flag Battalion under the command of Shang Gu Gu."

"Alright! Commander He! Today, I will use this bowl of wine to send off all the soldiers of the Black Flag Battalion!"

In ancient society, it was a great honor for a "high-ranking official" to pour wine for a "group leader".

He Lu Si took the drink and drank it all, then handed the bowl back, "Goodbye!"

"Bon Voyage."

Looking at the backs of the Black Flag Battalion turning and leaving, Yan Jizu felt secretly sad.

Suddenly, a roar erupted from the Black Flag Camp as they were leaving in formation. Yan Jizu listened carefully and heard, "His hair stood on end with anger, and the rain stopped as he leaned against the railing. He raised his eyes and howled to the sky..."

It turned out to be Yue Wumu's poem - "Man Jiang Hong".

Yes.

The Eastern Tartars claimed to be descendants of the Jurchens, and their original country name was "Dajin". Just as the former Song Dynasty was humiliated and trampled upon by the Jin people, the Ming Dynasty was now invaded, looted, burned and killed several times by the descendants of the Jin people.

Although four or five hundred years had passed, Yan Jizu could still hear Yue Wumu's hatred for the Jin people and his regret for not being able to recover his homeland.

Yan Jizu watched as more than a thousand soldiers from the Black Flag Camp walked farther and farther away until they disappeared at the end of his sight behind the slope.

I wonder how many of these good men and true warriors can come back alive.

The blood of the loyal ministers and righteous men of the Ming Dynasty must not be shed anymore.

……

The Black Flag Battalion marched for forty miles without encountering a single Tartar, and the scouts they sent out found no signs of enemy soldiers.

The Black Flag Camp had to set up camp in an abandoned post station. After a peaceful night, the players' morale and enthusiasm for killing the Tartars remained unabated.

"He Lusi" pushed open the tent and walked out.

The weather in the twelfth month of the lunar calendar was even colder, and gorgeous snowflakes fell intermittently, sometimes falling rapidly, sometimes spinning and flying, and sometimes slowly falling to the ground, lying on the head of "He Lusi" and turning into a drop of snow water.

The earth is covered with silver, as if draped in a piece of pure white silk.

Time slowly approaches morning, the sun rises, and the orange light falls on the white snow blanket, as if a bucket of orange paint was splashed. As the sun rises, the soft sunlight gradually covers the earth.

He Lusi turned on the highest sense, the cold winter wind whistled past, hitting his face painfully. When the cold air entered his nose, it felt like his airway had swallowed several sharp ice cubes, and the airway felt like it was being cut by a knife.

He pulled his coat tightly around him and walked through the military camp of more than a thousand people until he reached the outermost part of the camp. His hard combat boots made a bulging, muffled sound as they stepped into the shallow layer of snow that reached his ankles.

Although the snow covering the ground is very thick now, it will gradually melt as the sun shines on it, and marching will not be too difficult.

Players hammered and patched together parts of weapons and armor beside the warm campfire. The red-hot metal banged and bright sparks flew everywhere.

Some people dug a shallow hole in the ground and inserted three iron rods to serve as a support for the iron pot.

Accompanied by the crackling sound of burning firewood, the stewed meat and vegetables in the iron pot were cooked.

Players shared bowls of fragrant dishes, rubbing their hands together over the warm fire to relieve the hypothermia of their characters' limbs.

A player lying in a tent suddenly woke up, opened the tent and shouted outside, "Enemy spotted! Enemy spotted!"

The surrounding players immediately gathered around.

"What direction, how far away are we from the enemy, and how many people are there?"

"The scouts' intelligence: The enemy is in the northwest, less than ten miles away. They're a cavalry unit of over three hundred men. They were spotted while looting food, and the scouts couldn't resist and charged in to fight them."

well.

Now that the enemy has been discovered, it means that the person leaking the information can be caught.

He Lusi placed his finger on his ear to activate the voice system.

"Attention everyone! The enemy is less than ten miles away to the northwest, numbering over three hundred. Once you've eaten and drunk enough, march northwest immediately. We're going to kill the Tartars!"

Suddenly, there was a burst of enthusiastic response in the military camp, "Oh oh oh oh oh!"

(End of this chapter)