Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 142 Are they still human?
The player, whose life force was taken away by the flames, fell down, his burnt arm fell to the ground, his stubborn right hand lay on the ground, and only a half-good index finger was stretched straight forward, as if to guide the remaining teammates behind him.

"Kill the Tartars..."

Hundreds of players broke through the encirclement and reached a hundred steps away from the slave chief, but only sixty-seven people were left.

They used up all the small props they had with them, their shields were smashed, their armor was full of arrows, and the wounds pierced by spears and knives were bleeding, just like a group of bleeding hedgehogs.

One warrior after another fell under the powerful attack of the Tartars, and the arrow shafts on their bodies broke when they hit the ground, making crisp sounds.

Before they died, they were still roaring with their last breaths to drive out the Tartars, with the corpses of the Tartars lying under them.

At first, the casualty ratio between the Black Flag Army and the Tartars was one to one, then gradually increased to one to two, one to three...

"Forward!" The captain's voice was still roaring. Although the volume was slightly weakened, the heroic spirit in his voice did not diminish in the slightest.

Subsequent players continued to advance by stepping on the flesh and blood of both enemies and friends. Every time they lifted and lowered their feet, they would pull up the flesh and blood like melting rubber.

Dozens of people faced thousands of Tatars around them, like a small boat in the vast ocean. In the end, they were unable to reach the Tatars.

It seems that this is the "end of life" for the brothers.

"It's my honor to fight to the death alongside you." Horus looked around and shared the joy of the hearty fight with his brothers.

I don’t ask to be born on the same day of the same month of the same year, but I ask to die on the same day of the same month of the same year!
He Lusi looked up at the sky. The winter sky was white and vast. Unfortunately, the blood mist sprayed on his eyes, as if a layer of light red filter was added.

The black flag he held tightly in his hand was pierced by bows and crossbows and torn into tattered pieces. The wounds on his arms and thighs were wrapped with gauze to stop the bleeding.

He couldn't help but sing a simple military song, as if he was ready to die heroically with his remaining brothers.

An arrow flew over and hit He Lusi's eye. His upper body leaned back but he did not fall down.

He didn't cry out in pain when the arrow was almost pierced into his brain. Instead, he used his right hand to decisively pull out the arrow, pulling out his eyeball and flesh.

The soldiers around thought that the Black Flag Army was just holding on and would soon collapse and scream in pain.

But unexpectedly, the Black Flag Camp did not play by the rules at all.

"Father's sperm and mother's blood cannot be discarded!" The strong man said so, holding the arrow shaft tightly and stuffing it into his mouth, biting off his own body parts like a barbecue skewer, chewing hard.

This bloody and brave scene shocked Dorgon for a whole year.

This macho man actually ate the pulled-out eyeball?

There were still horrific scars on the empty eye sockets, and every chewing would pull on fresh wounds. However, this person did not feel any pain, but instead held up the black flag and continued to move forward!
Even though the Black Flag Battalion was the mortal enemy of the Qing Dynasty, Dorgon couldn't help but secretly praise them, saying, what a madman, what a good man!
The desire to "recruit talented people" became stronger and stronger, and Dorgon quickly ordered his confidants to go down the hill to persuade them to surrender.

But when the confidant arrived, there were less than forty soldiers left in the Black Flag Battalion. Determined not to surrender, the Black Flag Battalion threw themselves into the crowd and fought to the death.

In the end, only thirteen people were forcibly taken to the slope at Dorgon's feet.

These thirteen Black Flag warriors were all seriously injured. Even with the treatment of medicine and bandages, few of them survived. However, Dorgon still wanted to subdue one of them, even if it was just to worship him as a statue.

The Qing soldiers offered a generous reward for surrendering. Not only did they allow all the soldiers in the Black Flag Battalion to carry the flag, they also gave each of them women and slaves, allowing them to become small slave owners.

However, the Black Flag Battalion was unruly and would rather die than surrender. Even when they were pinned to the ground, they kept shouting and yelling to kill the Tartars. Their rapid breathing blew up clouds of dust, making them roar like a group of hungry wolves caught in an iron cage.

Just when Dorgon was planning to knock them out first, treat their wounds, and then spend time slowly wearing down their minds, more than ten suppressed Black Flags suddenly ran away in tacit understanding.

One of them was particularly strong, and he easily broke free from the suppression of several people. He rushed left and right frantically, knocking away the armored men who were suppressing his teammates.

At this time, a suppressed Black Flag Army soldier took out a fire starter and lit the fuse on his chest, then rushed towards the location of the banner without hesitation.

Although he did not shout out his enemy's name to reveal his intention, the highly focused Bayala guards still noticed something.

"Protect the prince!"

The elite white-armored generals protected Dorgon and other high-ranking officials behind them and continued to move up the mountain.

Other ordinary Bayala and Red Bayala rushed down to stop the enemy.

If the leader of a banner dies in battle, all the Bayalas who serve as guards on the same banner must be buried with him.

They would protect the flag owner even at the cost of their own lives to prevent their families from being implicated.

Hundreds of elite guards rushed down the slope. Even if some of them ran too fast and somersaulted onto the protruding rocks, or rolled down the mountain, as long as the Bayala were not dead, they had to stand up to stop them.

"Get out of my way!"

The "madman" was spitting blood foam from his mouth, and his body was full of holes and was at the end of its strength. He was unable to fight with the energetic guards.

He was like an athlete holding a rugby ball, constantly bending, turning sideways, and stopping suddenly to avoid the Tatar guards who were rushing towards him. From time to time, he could hear the screams of people falling from the foot of the mountain.

His eyes, almost bloodshot, stared at the slowly retreating Tartar leaders. Unfortunately, there were too many Tartar guards rushing over. They stabbed his body with their swords, preventing him from moving forward even a single step.

A red-armored Bayala pulled out a knife to cut the fuse of the self-explosive gunpowder, but found that only a small section of the "madman" fuse was left.

They were too late to stop him. The warrior, covered in blood, suddenly burst into laughter, a hearty laugh that seemed to reveal a madness that could devour the world.

"You all die!"

The burnt-out fuse sent sparks into the gunpowder bomb, and dazzling flames and smoke erupted in a short moment. Small iron bullets mixed in the flames flew into the air and attacked everything around them.

Several Bayalas in the innermost circle were killed on the spot by the shock wave and tiny bullets, and those in the slightly outer circle were blown away and knocked unconscious by the impact, while those further away had iron bullets piercing their armor or hitting their faces, leaving them covered in blood.

At this point, the last thirteen warriors died in battle, and the eight hundred Black Flag Army participating in the vanguard battle were temporarily wiped out.

When the smoke from the explosion was gradually blown away by the cold wind and the strange roars of the warriors of the Black Flag Camp could no longer be heard, the Bayala who had used a "human wall" to protect the prince and the beile dared to disperse.

The flag soldiers, armored men, and Bayala were all frightened. They had been fighting for more than ten years, and this was the first time they saw someone who would rather die than surrender and fight to the very last moment, and even use the strategy of "risking his life" to surprise attack the enemy commander.

Dorgon, still in shock, sat on a cold, hard stone in a daze.

His mind was blank, and he kept repeating words like "Why aren't they afraid of death or pain?", "What kind of blood feud do they have with the Qing Dynasty?", "Are they still human?"

As a burst of shocked wails sounded, Dorgon woke up as if from his dream and turned his head to look in the direction of the sound.

It was Abatai. He was hit on the forehead by a stray bullet and was completely dead.

The desperate charge by the Black Flag Battalion's death squad was not without results. They once again took the life of a Qing prince.

Dorgon was only ten steps away from Abatai, and both of them were protected by guards forming a human wall. However, Abatai was unlucky and was killed by a stray bullet even though he was being protected.

Dorgon's heart beat faster and faster, almost breaking through his chest and ribs and flying out. The relief of escaping death made him breathe a sigh of relief.

If the crazy assassin had advanced a few dozen more steps, he might have been hit by stray bullets from the flying gunpowder.

Regardless of whether he was killed or injured, the right-wing army's subsequent strategy would have to be completely overturned and revised.

For the first time, he experienced what it meant to "break all the laws with one force" and the courage that tactics could defeat strategy.

He almost flipped over.

He took the warm mare's milk handed to him by the guard and drank a cup to moisten his body and mind, but it still could not dispel the shock brought to his soul by the crazy people in the Black Flag Camp. His trembling hands and feet were still immersed in the coldness of the desperate struggle of the dead soldiers.

He held the warm water bag and stared blankly at the road that stretched from a hundred steps in front of him to the foot of the mountain.

The shields, spears, flags and corpses left behind by both sides were mixed together, paving a bloody road up the mountain, like a thick dark red mark painted on a white canvas.

The warriors of the Black Flag Camp are truly terrifying!
Dorgon sighed with relief, fortunately, even the vast Ming Dynasty produced only these few warriors.

And today, he finally gathered a large number of troops and set up an ambush to wipe out the warriors of the Black Flag Camp, eliminating a major threat to the Qing Dynasty.

The Han commander no longer had any soldiers who dared to fight head-on with the fierce Qing soldiers.

The right-wing army only needs to defeat the Han commander's loyal army, and he will be able to stay in Shandong for several months and lead his soldiers to enjoy the sumptuous feast of "money, food, people and livestock"!

"Don't damage the bodies of the Black Flag Battalion soldiers. Bury them properly. My Great Qing respects warriors, and they deserve our respect..."

……

After running for dozens of miles, Hu Dawei finally escaped.

He led the remaining troops through a dilapidated village, and the number of defeated soldiers who spontaneously joined him increased every day.

He personally led a thousand cavalrymen in an armed reconnaissance operation, but only three hundred escaped.

The losses of other generals were incalculable. He estimated that it would be a good thing if only 2,000 of the 8,000 vanguard cavalry could escape alive.

This is no longer a failure, but a colossal defeat!

When he thought of the cavalrymen who followed him into battle, they were all brave men who he had trained and brought out through fighting with the Northern and Eastern Tartars at the border, and who had fought with him for many years. However, they were framed by "traitors" and died on the battlefield.

He feels so sad!
What is even more regrettable is that the soldiers of the Black Flag Battalion used their lives to break through the enemy's encirclement and tie down the enemy's forces, thus saving Hu Dawei's life again.

Including the rescue in the previous Battle of Julu, the Black Flag Battalion has rescued him twice!
As a warrior on the frontier, he values ​​friendship and gratitude even more. Others saved him twice, but he could not repay them. It felt like a sharp knife was cutting and stirring his heart.

"vomit--"

A strong airflow surged from his throat. He subconsciously covered his mouth and tried to suppress the urge to vomit. It took him a while to calm down the restless airflow, but the bitterness lingered in his throat for a long time.

He didn't know how to explain to the commander-in-chief or to the families of his subordinates who died in battle.

At this moment, a cry of relief came to Hu Dawei's ears.

"General Hu, it turns out to be you... Huh... I finally found my own people." The familiar voice of his companion was like a warm current flowing into his heart. How could he forget the voice of General Yang, who had fought side by side with him many times.

But there was another cavalry unit a few dozen steps behind General Yang. If the leading generals were not Zu Dale and Zu Kuan, then who else could they be?

(End of this chapter)