Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 151: Pig-headed Eight Banners Will Not Meet Senior Khorne
A hooded player, holding two maces, like an assassin possessed by a berserker, frantically hammered at the Tartar soldier's armor, one, two, three times...

He smashed the enemy soldier's cloth armor so hard that it dented inward, and the blood that seeped out soaked the cloth of the armor's outer coat. Finally, he smashed the helmet with both hammers, like a death knell, and flattened the Tartar soldier's head together.

Green blood splattered under the filter, and the prompt sound of killing one person rang out.

The excited and wild laughter on his face became increasingly uncontrollable. The hooded guy was like a wild beast, a tiger hunting in the forest, enjoying the endless pleasure of venting his negative energy.

This is ten times more satisfying than hitting a punching bag after get off work to let off steam!
All the worries about commuting on the crowded subway seemed to turn into sweat and be discharged from the body through the pores.

The pleasurable and refreshing feeling almost tore his five senses apart. Sweat spurted out, blood roared, and a huge amount of stimulation jumped and flew through his neural networks.

The hooded guy felt like he was about to fly into the universe, and the source of life was almost gushing out from below.

"Ahhhhhhh! So good! My brain is shaking with pleasure!" The hooded guy leaned back, almost breaking his lumbar vertebrae.

He swore that he would play this game until the official server was shut down, even if it took ten or twenty years, he would continue to play!

"kill!"

The deafening shouts of killing came from all sides. The Tatar soldiers realized that they had fallen into a "trap" and turned to escape, but found that powerful enemies on both sides had been waiting for them for a long time.

The Black Flag Army on the left and right wings were like a pair of pliers clamping the belly of a lobster, or like a roujiamo bun holding a ball of greasy meat in the middle.

With the genuine Black Flag Army attacking from the front and the Black Flag Battalion soldiers flanking them on the left and right, the gap behind them became increasingly narrow, and the demoralized Tartar soldiers fled backwards.

However, the defeated soldiers who escaped did not have an easy time either. The cavalry of the Black Flag Camp rushed out from both sides of the formation and killed the defeated soldiers who were left alone like crushing ants.

The deputy general of Baoding Governor's Flag, who was ordered to rush to support the Black Flag Camp, exclaimed that not only were the Black Flag Camp's elite soldiers capable of fighting, but even these auxiliary troops were first-class brave soldiers.

It's terrifying that such a difficult tactic as pretending to retreat can be successfully implemented!
Seeing that nearly 10,000 Tatars were surrounded and about to be eaten up bit by bit, a partial victory was just around the corner. "After Jinan, we really need a resounding victory!"

The deputy general of the Du Biao ordered his subordinates to split into two, half to go to the front of the Black Flag Camp to block the fleeing Tatars, and the other half to go behind the camp to protect the back of the Black Flag Camp.

"Cooperating with the Black Flag Battalion to annihilate this slave army will result in a great victory! Anyone who recklessly tries to take credit, deserts the battlefield, and ruins the overall situation will be torn into pieces—attack!"

Even the commander-in-chief and eunuch Gao Qiquan were tempted and each dispatched another 2,000 soldiers to assist the Black Flag Battalion in the battle.

The morale of the friendly forces on the right wing was also boosted. Hu Dawei, Yang Guozhu and others clapped their heads in surprise, and expressed their admiration for the elite soldiers of the Black Flag Battalion and the admiral Li Mu's skillful and effective use of tactics. They were definitely the strongest combination of soldiers!

With the strong support of several friendly units, the encirclement of the Black Flag Camp became increasingly stable and tight.

Ajie brandished his prosthetic crossbow, shouting at the top of his lungs, occasionally loading an arrow onto the crossbow and firing a shot to liven things up. "No surrender, no prisoners, kill them all!"

"Kill the pig!"

The players in the front row of the encirclement took another ten steps forward, and their spears and halberds pierced the flesh and blood of the defeated soldiers.

The soldiers of the Black Flag Battalion follow behind the players to fill in their positions and learn from these ruthless "death warriors" how to adapt to the bloody battlefield.

The ferocious players continued to advance with their shields, pushing the defeated soldiers in circles, crowding inward, crowding, and crowding again.

The encirclement was extremely crowded, and the gap for the defeated soldiers to break through and retreat was getting smaller and smaller. The Tatars on the periphery crowded inward, and the Tatars inside also tried their best to escape outward, and the Black Flag Battalion continued to shrink inward.

"Kill!" The angry roar continued, and the player advanced thirty steps with anger and determination to exterminate the cockroaches.

Every Tartar soldier in the center would feel the pressure of the crowd from all sides, his arms would be forcefully broken, his ankles and calves would be kicked, his congested blood vessels would have poor circulation, and his limbs would be congested and turn purple due to lack of oxygen.

The broken ribs pierced his lungs. The Tartar soldier gasped for air, but it seemed as if all the air escaped in the middle of the breath. He had to use greater force to inhale again, and was eventually suffocated to death.

The Tatars who had fallen down were like pieces of meat being ground into a meat grinder, unable to get up again. Countless pairs of hard-soled leather boots trampled them into a bloody mess.

The Black Flag Camp's death squad and combat soldiers were still killing, and whenever a spear broke, they would replace it with a new one.

The blade made several cuts, and he used the sword of his teammate behind him to block it.

If a player dies in battle, he will be replaced by an ordinary soldier.

Even though the Tatars' cries of surrender were heard everywhere, the players turned a deaf ear to them, silently stepped over the corpses, and mechanically stabbed out with their spears and swords.

Killing a thousand people is not enough, killing three thousand people is not enough, killing five thousand people is still not enough...

Kill, kill, kill.

Only the instincts of wild beasts remained in his mind, as if a demon was whispering in his ear, killing them all, exterminating them, purifying them!
Whenever a Tartar held the shoulders of a neighboring friendly soldier and leaned out half of his body to breathe fresh air, he would be stabbed in the chest or neck by a spear and fall to the ground.

The Tatars in the encirclement gradually shrank like solid lard melting in a hot pan.

The cries of begging for mercy and killing echoed in his ears. Li Mu stood in the stirrups and looked into the distance, observing the every move of the main force of the Qing army through the telescope.

The signals of flags and horns were transmitted alternately, and the Tatars on the left and right wings indeed showed signs of wavering.

Li Mu was looking forward to the Eight Banners leaders giving an answer on troop deployment.

Should we rescue this Tartar infantry, or concentrate our superior forces to attack a certain part of the Ming army?
However, to Li Mu's surprise, the Tatars did not choose any of the above plans, but directly moved the main flag and began to move backward - thousands of flag bearers and armored men jumped on their horses and slowly left, they were actually going to abandon the friendly troops who had not yet returned to the main camp.

Don’t we want these bannermen, bondservants, and slaves anymore?

Or was this a tactic used by the Eight Banners to lure the Ming army into breaking up their lines, dividing them, surrounding them and annihilating them?

Li Mu bit his right thumb and racked his brains but could not figure out the purpose of the Tartars' move.

It was not until tens of thousands of Tatar cavalry and mounted infantry gathered at the retreating banner position and retreated ten miles away that Li Mu decided not to wait any longer.

"All troops, immediately open the rear breach of the encirclement and let the fleeing troops escape. I want you to drive the fleeing troops to the right wing like a flock of sheep, breaking up the enemy's retreating formation. All cavalry, advance at full speed and make sure to intercept as many Tatars on the right wing as possible. It's time to make dumplings for the New Year!"

These defeated soldiers who had experienced the bloody battlefield and knew they were doomed to die suddenly got a chance to survive, so they would definitely flee more desperately than ordinary defeated soldiers.

They would become the Ming army's "fire bull formation" to break up the Tatars' formation.

This time, Li Mu sent out 80% of the players and infantry and cavalry to attack, while he himself followed slowly behind, surrounded by hundreds of elite soldiers.

After all, the threat posed by the Tartars is greater than that of the bandits. If he were to encounter the elite Bayara, he might be defeated.

The changes on the battlefield brought about by the local victory were noticed by all the generals.

Without the restraint of the Tartars, the left-wing Yongwei Camp finally sent out troops to attack. The commander of the central army also shouted victory and led his troops into battle. The pressure on the right-wing government troops was instantly relieved.

At once, almost all three armies of the Ming army were dispatched.

Tens of thousands of Ming troops shouting victory were like a giant fly swatter, gradually pushing the Tatar infantry and cavalry, who had not yet escaped and whose formation was in chaos, towards the Ji River.

These more than 10,000 "abandoned pawns" were completely surrounded by tens of thousands of Ming troops, including those defeated soldiers who were deliberately let go.

They were deeply afflicted with "black phobia" and shouted at the top of their lungs the insane words that everyone was going to die.

Some soldiers who had already suffered mental breakdown no longer wanted to be tortured to death by the crowded queues, so they drew their swords and committed suicide.

The Ming army attacked from three sides with shouts of killing, but most of the Tartars could only stand on the river bank and stare blankly.

Most of the Eight Banners who had been slave owners for decades did not know how to swim.

Even some of the Eight Banners who were good at swimming, or the Han Army Banners who came from the Liao Army or Dongjiang Town, had already begun planning to escape.

They quickly slashed off the "golden money rat tail" behind their heads with their swords, skillfully took off their helmets and armor, and then took off their outer clothes and under clothes and stacked them up.

Despite the howling winter wind, they could only try their best to fight the cold.

The defeated soldiers held their clothes and shoes on their heads and slowly walked into the icy river.

The moment I entered the river, it felt as if countless ice spikes penetrated my body through my pores, and it seemed as if the blood in my body suddenly dropped three degrees.

Fortunately, they are highly adaptable. As long as they cross the Jishui River and escape to the south bank, and then hide in the mountains around Jinan for a while, they can disguise themselves as wandering monks after a while.

However, just when they were halfway through the swim, they suddenly saw a number of sampans paddling towards them.

Each small boat carried several Ming soldiers, each armed with a bow, crossbow and bird gun.

"Oh, we have been waiting for you here for a long time, why did you come just now!" A Ming soldier wearing a horn helmet reached out to pick his nose, and then twisted his fingers to rub out a small round yellow particle.

With a click, the booger particle took off.

"Is it the Eight Banners Manchu, the Eight Banners Mongolian, or the Han Army Banner?"

A Han soldier accidentally swallowed a mouthful of river water. After he vomited it out, he cried miserably, "They are Tartars. I am a Han Chinese. I have abandoned the dark and joined the light. Please spare my life, General!"

Several more Han soldiers risked their lives and begged for mercy from the Ming army.

"Well, since you've begged for mercy so sincerely, we'll show mercy and spare your lives."

"Thank you, General, thank you, General. I will never forget your great kindness!"

However, as soon as the Han soldier put his hand on the edge of the sampan, his fingers were cut off by a knife. The sudden change frightened him so much that his heart trembled, and he sank into the water and swallowed several mouthfuls of river water.

The Ming army soldier who had been so friendly just now suddenly showed a ferocious expression, but his tone remained calm.

"I was just kidding."

The player dug out another piece of booger and flung it at the Han army. He then waved his hands in the air, like a conductor conducting an orchestra on stage. "Let us warmly welcome the Eight Banners soldiers to the Jishui Hotel—"

With a command, bird guns and bows and crossbows were fired at the same time, and spears stabbed and finished off the attack, and a red splash suddenly appeared on the water surface.

(End of this chapter)