Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 149 Kang Kang What I Found

A large number of mounted infantry dismounted and fought on foot, charging forward with swords, shields, spears and halberds.

Dozens of players who had finished their work fled to their right wing in tanks, as if a surging wave of zombies was following them.

A certain bold fellow still did not forget to stick his butt out to mock, and even waved his arms in a gesture of pushing luck when he was in high spirits.

With a trickling sound, the waste gas in the intestines was released. The gas stayed where it was, waiting to refresh the Tartar infantry behind it.

Unexpectedly, the wheel ran over a piece of gravel, and the up and down shaking threw the Mockery Brother out, and his teammates on both sides had no time to pull him back.

The Mocker rolled several times before stopping, covered in mud, dust and weeds.

When he stood up, his teammates' chariots had already driven away. He seemed to be the only one left on the empty land.

The Mocker turned around and looked straight ahead, watching the vicious Tartars approaching.

When a group of humanoid beasts saw the lone "two-legged prey", they excitedly let out strange roars and howls with saliva flying everywhere, as if they had already killed the Mocking Brother ten thousand times in their hearts.

"Heh." The Mocker bent down, brushed the dust off his legs, and calmly drew his sword.

He lowered his body and assumed a fighting stance, but then he thought, how could he not take a selfie with such a handsome heroic scene?
Just as he turned on the function and prepared to take a selfie, he suddenly heard a rumbling sound of cannons behind him.

No!
Several iron bullets fired from the field cannon flew out, and one of them tragically grazed the arm of the Mocking Brother.

The powerful impact broke his right arm and left a horrific wound on the right side of his waist.

The mocking brother failed to show off and instead died in battle with an ugly selfie.

"Oh no!" What's worse is that he set the automatic upload function, and when he was resurrected, this embarrassing photo was probably seen by all his gaming friends.

Artillery fire from both sides roared in succession, and projectiles of varying sizes flew overhead. Some landed on the dense crowd, injuring dozens of people, while others could only smash the carriages into the pit.

The players returning in chariots were warmly cheered by Hu Dawei's troops. The soldiers saw the Black Flag Army's bold actions clearly.

Taunt and provoke, play music and dance, kill a few Tartar cavalrymen in the midst of laughter and chat, then humiliate the Tartars even more, and lure the enemy directly into the planned position...

The soldiers were delighted by this feat, which was accomplished in one go. If they were not facing a powerful enemy, they would have wanted to throw the warriors high to celebrate.

The sniper riding in the tank returned and joined another sniper team.

"Well done! The enemy has assembled a heavy force to attack the right wing as planned..."

"That's right, no one knows how to taunt the enemy better than us!"

Twenty player snipers assigned flintlock rifles stood on the temporary wooden platform built for them by Hu Dawei.

The wooden platform had an extra wooden frame to facilitate the gunners to set up their rifles and shoot. In addition, each sniper was equipped with a monocular telescope to facilitate observation of the Tatar officers they were targeting.

Although the Eight Banners soldiers all wore the uniform colors of Eight Banners cloth armor, red, yellow, blue and white, one could still identify the Tartar officers if one looked closely.

At worst, you can judge that the person who talks the most on the battlefield is an officer.

As a test-fired artillery shell enters the battlefield, the observer immediately reports the landing point of the shell to the crew members.

The six guns of the Black Flag Battalion quickly adjusted their angles, with the black muzzles pointing towards the front of the right wing.

The lit match was brought close to the fuse, and the cannon spewed out white smoke with a bang and moved back several meters.

Six 12-pound field guns roared with thick smoke from the front and back, and the heavy solid iron bullets drew black trails of hundreds of meters in the air, slamming into the solid ground and splashing mud and dust.

The force fed back from the earth caused the shell to bounce up again. It landed for the second time and hit the dense Tatar battle line head-on, plowing out a bloody trail.

The solid ball bounced from the ground for the third time, killing four more people in an instant before slowly stopping.

The first group of unlucky people who were hit by the shells died on the spot without even a groan. The hot shells penetrated the chest, abdomen and skulls of more than a dozen people, and splashed armor and debris to cause secondary damage to the surrounding soldiers.

The third bomb hit the ground and broke the sides and spines of several people. Broken limbs flew all over the ground and blood was everywhere. People who were seriously injured and dying after being hit by the shells lay on the ground screaming.

The artilleryman held the poke rod and pushed it deep into the barrel. The water sizzled as it met the scalding hot barrel. The first pass washed away the gunpowder residue to reduce the high temperature of the barrel, and the second pass cleaned the inside of the barrel to ensure it was clean and free of residue.

At this time, the smoothbore gun could fire one round per minute, but as the number of shelling increased, the time required to cool the barrel each time also increased.

"Six shells, three hit! One was too close, one hit the Ji River, and one didn't kill enough..."

The observers next to the artillery reported military intelligence, and each captain then conveyed it to his subordinate gunners.

The gunners adjusted the angle again based on the information.

As the gunners finished reloading, the officer's command pierced the smoke, "Fire!"

Following the order to fire, solid iron bullets were continuously thrown into the air. Their hot black bodies slid like dark clouds, sowing the shadow of fear under the gloomy sky of winter.

The shells pierced the sky with a shrill whistling sound as they approached. The soldiers with queues at a closer distance couldn't help but shrink their necks, fearing that the shells would pass over their heads.

Dozens of shells fell into the crowd, like a mad bull breaking into a sheep pen, causing a bloody storm. The shells rushed around recklessly, causing a brilliant bloody scene on the Tatar front.

"That is?"

The thick smoke and flames from the Tartar's flank caught the attention of the observing players. Upon closer inspection, they saw that it was Tartar artillery.

In order to increase the hit rate, the enemy actually moved the artillery that was supposed to be at the rear of the army forward.

The observer first saw several enemy guns spewing white smoke and several shells flying high in the sky. Two of the shells fell to the center of the battlefield and bounced several times before landing near the marker 150 steps in front of the Black Flag Camp, scattering dust and gravel everywhere.

Although the Tartar artillery could not reach the Black Flag Army camp, the artillery did not want to be disturbed by the enemy's artillery.

The captain immediately ordered the three artillery pieces to adjust their muzzles, determined to destroy the enemy's artillery formation. As each shot and shell was fired, the Black Flag Battalion's artillery position was enveloped in smoke. Several players, armed with giant fans, immediately fanned the smoke away.

"Oh oh oh!"

Several players who were loading shells shouted excitedly.

Although it was winter, they took off their coats and threw them on the ground, then wiped the hot cannon with thick rags soaked in vinegar water, their faces covered with black mud stained by gun smoke and oil.

The players and the gunners were skilled in artillery, and after a few rounds of bombardment, they destroyed all the Tartar artillery formations. One of the hot shells even hit the Tartar's gunpowder box, causing a chain reaction explosion. The flames rising into the sky could be seen from the battlefield several miles away.

……

Perhaps it was the gap in the Black Flag Battalion's artillery battle that gave the Tatar infantry a chance to catch their breath, or perhaps it was the brutality and tyranny of the supervisory team that forced the infantry to advance.

The Tatar infantry rushed forward with shields raised, and the sturdy archers holding heavy bows also drew their arrows and held them between their fingers.

"Fire arrows!"

The archers drew their bows and shot arrows. Thousands of heavy arrows drew an irregular arc in the air. Most of the arrows fell in front of the Ming army's line, and some of the arrows penetrated into the formation.

The arrow lost a lot of kinetic energy after sliding for nearly two hundred meters. Even if it penetrated the shield and pushed open the cloth armor, it would only leave a small flesh wound on the Ming army soldier.

Even if the continuous arrows killed or injured a hundred people, there would be follow-up Ming troops who would quickly take their places.

While the Tatar bows were shooting arrows, the players' heavy matchlock guns and flintlock rifles were also firing.

Rows of barrages of bullets rushed forward, like a sickle slashing across the battlefield, cutting through the chest and abdomen of the Tartars. The Tartars holding shields in the front row burst into clouds of bloody mist that smelled fishy.

There are also heavy projectiles that penetrate the infantry's body and kill the infantry behind them.

The huge casualties shook the fighting spirit of some infantrymen. They muttered negative emotions and subconsciously took several steps back to stay away from these terrifying weapons.

Since the heavy arrows cannot defeat the enemy's heavy matchlock guns, we will just stick close to them and fight fiercely with the Ming army.

"go ahead!"

The supervisors and officers swung their swords to kill the cowardly soldiers who stopped moving forward, but the heavy guns could only be loaded at a speed of two to three rounds per minute.

Suddenly, a talkative officer fell backward to the ground, with a bloody hole the size of a dried date on his forehead. Blood gradually seeped out from the back of his head and soaked the mud.

The sudden death of the officer drastically reduced the morale of the surrounding soldiers, and some of them could no longer bear it and wanted to escape.

Suddenly, a cold light flashed, and a soldier who took a half step back had his throat cut and fell down.

"Don't stop! Keep moving forward!" Another Niulu Zhangjing took the lead.

The swordsmen and archers finally advanced a few dozen steps and heard the sound of gunfire. More than a hundred Tartars fell to the ground.

A Tartar saw with his own eyes that his teammate on the right was hit by a bullet and fell to the ground, with warm blood splattering on his face.

"Ahhhh!"

The bombardment, gunfire, and silent bloody killings completely crushed the morale of the Qing soldiers. At first, dozens of people fled in defeat, and then the number spread to hundreds.

"No escape—"

Before the talkative officer could finish his words, a bullet that was clearly visible to the naked eye pierced the air and hit Niulu Zhangjing in the chest. The bullet penetrated the cloth armor and went into his internal organs.

The officer lay on the ground, covered with footprints from the fleeing soldiers.

The defeated soldiers who retreated backwards were only a part of the 20,000, like ripples on the surface of a pond.

Although the 20,000 people were divided into several units and were fighting against the various units on the right wing of the Ming army, the retreat of thousands of people still affected the performance of others.

The Eight Banners leaders had no choice but to send another 15,000 infantry and cavalry to attack, killing the fastest-running soldiers while shouting and urging the defeated soldiers to reorganize their formation.

In a short time, the Eight Banners had already sent out 60% of their forces to attack the right wing.

"The friendly forces on the left wing are entangled by thousands of enemy cavalry. They dare not advance and attack..."

The player who reported the idea of ​​the left-wing government army brought Li Mu, and he couldn't help but hold the telescope tightly to observe the battlefield.

It seems that ideals are full, but reality is still very skinny. Although the enemy attacked our right wing as expected, our left wing was locked and the "cage" could not be closed for a long time.

The right wing will face a bigger meat grinder battle next, and may not be able to hold on.

Li Mu decided to send a thousand new players to assist in the defense of the right wing and hold the front line first.

Li Mu stared at the dynamic battlefield. The positions of the enemy and our side spanned several miles, and it would take dozens of minutes or even one or two hours to rush to the rescue between the farthest distances.

and many more!

Years of actual combat experience had cultivated a keen sense of the battlefield, allowing Li Mu to sense something unusual.

Why did the Tatars attack their own right wing and contain their own left wing, but never attack the Ming army's central camp?
According to the current battlefield situation, if Li Mu were the Eight Banners, he could just send out all his cavalry to attack from the front and back, and even break through the Ming army's central camp.

It is possible to divide tens of thousands of Ming troops into two unconnected parts, east and west. Then, by surrounding the two parts of the Ming army and slowly wearing away their manpower, the goal of annihilating them can be achieved.

The Tartars clearly still have 10,000 to 20,000 soldiers in their main camp, but why don’t they do anything?

What are they worried about?
Li Mu accidentally turned his head and glanced, and saw the enlarged black battle flag.

Li Mu suddenly realized, could it be that the Tartars were afraid of the black flag?
(End of this chapter)