Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 254: Black Flag Student, who occasionally uses the middle finger to hide her shyness
"Excellent! The enemy suffered heavy casualties in the center, and lost a large number of cavalry on the flanks. They have lost all their ability to cut off our retreat. As long as we defeat the enemy infantry attacking our left flank, we can seize the opportunity to attack and encircle the entire enemy camp!"

Li Mu's eyes were burning, as if he saw victory within his grasp.

"Inform Li Fuming, Zhao Shuming, and Hou Guoan to reorganize their troops. Once they see the orange smoke signal, lead all of their troops to attack the enemy's flanks and coordinate with the Beiwei Army to encircle the enemy! The New Year is almost here, it's time to make a big dumpling for the Tartars..."

After receiving the "flag signal" from the players, Li Fuming knew that the moment of the real decisive battle had arrived. However, after thinking carefully about Marshal Li's deployment, he felt that there were some risks.

Commander Li's command ability and prestige are stronger than all the generals present.

More importantly, Governor Li was too young. Age was the best weapon, for it could make the mediocre outlive the talented, while also allowing the young to shine.

As a member of the "Tongxin Society", Li Fuming was very sure that Li Mu would "accomplish great things" in the future, and regarded the Tongxin Society as the "direct lineage list" of the Marshal.

Li Mu’s personal safety is related to the future of everyone in the “interest group”.

If more than 20,000 soldiers were sent to attack from the front, and thousands more soldiers were sent out from the left wing, the soldiers left in the main camp to protect General Li would be less than 20,000.

If the Tartars abandoned the "Fruit of the Son of Heaven" and personally led the last reserve force of tens of thousands of people to attack Governor Li's main camp, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Who will protect the Marshal's safety? Only these ten thousand soldiers and horses?"

Li Fuming told his suggestions to the messenger player, who then pretended to send out a wave of flag signals.

"I believe the warriors on the left wing will defeat the enemy infantry. If necessary, I will mobilize the garrison troops to assist. Don't worry about my safety. Tell all the generals that this is the order of General Li, the commander-in-chief of the Bandit Suppression Force!"

Li Mu was quite pleased, as this meant that the Tongxin Society was no longer a mutual aid association, but had evolved into a true community of interests, and its "corruption" effect had reached a higher level.

Now that the iron order had been issued, all the generals had no more doubts and each reorganized their troops and entered combat status.

On the other side of the left wing battlefield, a cold wind blew past, and the thick fog and smoke on the battlefield dissipated.

The fleeing Qing cavalry were like headless flies, wandering around the battlefield in confusion.

The muddy ground was littered with corpses of men and horses, forming an invisible knee-high barrier. Under the command of the captain, several players in the hollow square formation quickly changed their formation and lined up in three horizontal rows, using the obstacle of human and horse corpses as a temporary cover.

The hollow square formation in the rear was still firing at the scattered cavalry. Ajie stood on tiptoe to look around at the current situation on the battlefield.

The enemy left behind a large number of cavalry corpses, and the Ming army's auxiliary troops were like hunters hunting wild boars, frantically hunting down the scattered cavalry that penetrated the hollow square formation.

The enemy cavalry suffered heavy losses, with a large number of highly mobile cavalry being lost in vain without achieving any results.

This means that the enemy no longer has the advantage of cavalry, and the few remaining cavalry can no longer launch a counterattack that can turn the tide on the entire battlefield.

Unless Huang Taiji sends out all the remaining reserve troops, even if he is willing, the other princes and nobles may not make up their minds to attack the empty troops.

The unwavering hollow square formation benefits from the real-life compulsory education of game players – lining up for drills, flag-raising on Mondays, and military training at university…

The game's filters also make players accustomed to horrific deaths. They even enjoy the shocking momentum of thousands of horses galloping, as if they were watching a real-life, free cavalry show.

Unlike ordinary soldiers, when they see the powerful torrent of cavalry coming towards them, they will be scared away by the momentum of the cavalry before they even engage in close combat.

The disorganized Qing cavalry fled in panic, while the total casualties of more than ten player phalanxes were less than 500.

The cavalry's disastrous defeat made Huang Taiji's hands tremble slightly.

Although cavalry was not the specialty of the Jianzhou Jurchens, it was the unique skill of the Haixi Jurchens and the Mongols.

He did not send his troops directly to attack the enemy's main camp, but instead took a detour to attack the weak points in the enemy's rear camp.

Unexpectedly, the cavalry's side charge, which had always been sure of victory, encountered a fatal defeat.

He suddenly felt the chill of possible failure enveloping his heart. Although it was winter, beads of sweat the size of beans oozed out of his back and soaked his underwear.

If the troops of the main camp were sent to fight, not only would the "cooked emperor of the Southern Dynasty" fly away, but the enemy would also cooperate with the garrisons to kill the Qing army's main camp.

He and the other princes and nobles also lost the courage to "go all out" and did not dare to fight the enemy to the death.

So he could only keep the central army steady and hope that the firearms battalion and heavy infantry, which he had spent a lot of money to build, would show their power.

It was hoped that they would defeat the enemy's left wing and then break into the enemy's main camp, giving the Qing Dynasty a chance to breathe, or even kill the enemy general in battle to win the final victory.

More than 10,000 elite Qing troops advanced in unison, like a second hook punch after the cavalry, and advanced towards more than ten hollow square formations of the enemy army.

The Ming army sent more than ten mule carts to replenish the "hollow square" with cold weapons, ordinary bird guns, and the manpower of the newly resurrected players.

As weapons and personnel were replenished, the frontline commander shouted, "Change formation!"

The hollow square changed its formation and began to march forward. The bamboo flutes and war drums played pleasant tunes, adding a touch of relaxation to the dull battlefield.

The remaining enemy cavalry in the rear were left to the friendly forces to capture and kill, and they were responsible for defeating the Tatar infantry that was attacking head-on.

Thousands of players marched in neat steps on the muddy flat road. Ajie carried an ordinary bird gun and walked quickly in the queue. From time to time, he lifted his legs and skillfully stepped over the corpses and bullet holes on the ground. Occasionally, he would accidentally step on a bloody severed limb, making a dull snapping sound, and almost fell to the ground.

The players' marching queue was silent, with only the roar of guns and cannons ringing in their ears.

The thick smell of gunpowder is pungent and choking, and the smell of blood drifting in the wind adds a touch of sweetness to the mouth.

With his mouth watering and his throat dry, Ajie turned his head and glanced, seeing the ground on his right littered with the bodies of war horses and dead men. The surviving war horses raised their blood-soaked heads and neighed miserably, or tried hard to kick their hooves to climb out of the pool of blood.

Some of the surviving Tartars had noses bleeding and struggled to stand up, staggering slowly across the battlefield, their unbalanced legs like puppets about to fall apart.

The Tatars looked at the tragic blood-stained land, confused and bewildered, with an expression of disbelief on their faces, as if they could not believe that more than ten thousand cavalrymen had met such a tragic end.

The blood flowing everywhere mixed with the mud and water into a pool, and the players stepped, splashing blood and mud.

The friendly troops behind followed the player closely, keeping a distance of several hundred steps. The medical players mixed in with the Ming army quickly stepped forward to treat their own wounded.

Those with serious injuries were given simple bandages and wound treatment on the spot, while those with minor injuries were placed directly on small carts and dragged to the rear granary.

Ajie was relatively tall, and through the gaps between the players in the front row, he saw more than ten thousand enemies attacking from the front.

The solid bullets from the artillery fell into the enemy's ranks with a whistling and sharp sound, like stones thrown into a calm lake, causing waves of hoarse screams.

"coming……"

Ajie saw that other players' teams also followed. The distant main camp emitted orange smoke. Tens of thousands of friendly troops, both strong and weak, were stepping out of the main camp and rushing towards the center of the enemy.

"Kill the Tartars! Kill the Tartars!" The deafening cheers could even reach the battlefield.

The units of more than 7,000 players were transformed into three horizontal rows, and each row was combined to form a striped code that undulated like a wave.

"Stand still!" the officers shouted.

Ajie followed the order and started to mark his spot, and almost everyone stopped where they were.

"All troops stand still!"

"Roar!"

His legs stopped reflexively and he roared at the same time.

The enemy was less than three hundred steps away from them, and the friendly artillery stopped firing to avoid accidental injuries.

Ajie, who was in the third row, held the bird gun steadily and waited quietly for the judgment of fate to come.

The Tatars, wearing heavy armor, were holding swords and shields or muskets. The roars and shouts of more than ten thousand Tatars gathered into a river, resounding throughout the battlefield.

Ajie heard someone say that this was the Tatar Firearms Battalion, an elite force that Huang Taiji had spent a lot of money to build, and a considerable number of them were Han soldiers from Dongjiang Town.

Ajie breathed the cold air steadily, and the brothers around him were all calm and composed.

Most of the brothers have been playing the game since it was launched. The longest time they have been training is one and a half years. They are fearless warriors fed by death and blood.

The fighting skills they learned from real games can be used in real life. Maybe they can't beat ten people at once, but they are more than enough to deal with middle school bullies and street thugs.

"Load!"

The commander's order made Ajie start to reload the ammunition reflexively. It was a skilled action engraved in his genes. Even if he closed his eyes, he could accurately locate the muzzle and trigger.

The gunpowder granules fell in the barrel with a rattling sound. He pulled out the poke rod and pressed the bullet deep into the barrel until it touched the compacted gunpowder.

After completing all the standard loading procedures, Ajie raised the musket and looked straight ahead.

The players in the first row knelt on one knee and placed the bird guns on the shields. The players in the second row held their heads high and chests out. The players in the third row extended the muzzles of their guns filled with ammunition from the gaps between the soldiers in the second row.

Each team's captain raised his sword high, and thousands of players held their breath. A hundred paces away, the enemy army stood in a black mass, their roars and snarls resonating like the beating of war drums, pounding the players' internal organs.

A strong sense of oppression came towards him, and the enemies dozens of steps away began to burst out with blood and courage, roaring and shouting, and charged like beasts.

Ajie's heart beat faster involuntarily, and he could even see the fearless calmness on the Tartar's face.

The commander used his eyes to roughly judge the relative distance between the enemy and us. When the enemy rushed within thirty or forty steps, the first captain slashed the air with his sword.

"First row, fire!"

The first row of players in the third squad launched a volley, and the bullets burst out of the gun barrels with smoke.

The bullets pierced through the shields with a dull crackling sound, and the enemy soldiers dozens of steps away let out a series of screams. Many Tartars fell to the ground, making the sound of heavy flesh hitting the ground.

"Second Platoon, fire!"

Soon, another row of players launched a volley of fire. Those whose armor was penetrated by the bullets at close range died quickly, while those unlucky ones who were shot in the hands and feet could only fall to the ground, helplessly uttering dying cries.

"Open fire!" Other captains also issued different firing orders, some of which were three-stage shooting, some of which were front-row shooting and back-row loading.

Others, after firing a round of volleys, ordered their men to abandon their guns and draw their swords to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy, colliding fiercely and shedding blood.

A chaotic roar rang out from the Tartar line, and the entire central part of the Tartar disappeared, like sugar dissolving in water.

"..." A shrill suona sound was heard, and "Ajie" turned his head to look for it, but it was not an instrument played by his own people.

Suddenly, the Tartars who had not yet engaged in the battle took a step back, and even those who were fighting with the players had to put aside their blood feuds, raised their bloody knives and pointed them forward, staring at the players in front of them while quickly retreating.

The player didn't care whether the enemy retreated or not. He loaded his musket and continued to shoot, knocking down another group of fleeing Tatar soldiers.

It was not until most of the Tartars retreated heavily and the curtain of human wall was lifted that Ajie discovered that it was actually thousands of Tartar musketeers who had formed a battle formation, a long, discontinuous horizontal line, two or three rows thick, and fifty or sixty steps apart.

Musket against musket, "Ajie" feels as if he is on a European battlefield more than a hundred years later, engaging in a line-up duel of flintlock rifles.

Without asking the gentleman on the opposite side to fire first, the Tartar directly used the suona to give orders.

Only the clear sound of suona pierced the air, and the front row of Tatars, which stretched for hundreds of steps, opened fire, and thick white smoke instantly spewed out.

Bullets that were imperceptible to the naked eye came flying towards him, and Ajie suddenly felt a stream of heat splashing on his face. The brothers in the second row in front of him groaned and fell down, flattening the hay on the ground.

The teammate was dead. The dangerous exchange of gunfire had just begun.

"Ajie" glanced at his dead teammate, stepped over his body and stepped forward to fill his position. At this time, the brothers who were kneeling on one knee in the first row in front of him stood up, holding shield guns, standing straight like a high wall.

Ajie looked around and found that not many of his brothers were hit by the bird gun.

The effective range of the matchlock gun is only 50 to 80 meters. If you don't get close to the enemy and shoot at them, you won't be able to kill a large number of enemies.

"Let the Tartars see who is the king of muskets - ammunition reloading!"

The commander roared loudly, and Ajie and the others began to repeat the boring but exciting reloading process.

As the ammunition was loaded, everyone raised their guns.

"Forward!" Red and orange smoke symbolizing attack shot forward.

More than 7,000 players quickly reorganized their formation, changing from three rows to two rows and moving forward, with the sounds of war drums and bamboo flutes playing music.

Someone sang a passionate military song, which instantly caused a chorus of brothers around him, and even the musicians changed the music.

They were like the fearless Old Guard, winning decisive battles for Napoleon time and again.

They played music, sang songs, and fearlessly faced the second round of barrage.

boom! boom! boom!
The players who were unfortunately shot fell down with a groan, and the warriors who died suddenly remained forever in this black land, while those who were shot but not killed seriously lay down on the spot for a while and then got up again, dragging their broken bodies forward.

"Forward! Forward! Forward!"

The commander's roar was far away, but the captain's roar was close at hand.

He saw the brothers in the front row sway back and forth, then stood upright like a tumbler, blocking his way and continuing to move forward.

Although his brother didn't say a word, Ajie still saw drops of blood dripping from his feet.

Ajie stepped over the bodies of enemies and friends mixed together, and the air was filled with the bitter smell of gun smoke mixed with hay and soil.

There was no order to stop, so everyone, including him, had to move forward.

Fifty meters.

The order to stop had not yet come, and Ajie was a little confused, but he did not move his eyes. He just kept looking straight ahead, and his neck was a little stiff and sore.

Thirty meters.

Still no orders came.

Ajie's back was soaked with cold sweat, but he still chose to trust the commander's judgment and trust his old comrade who had fought with him for many days.

Twenty meters.

He could even vaguely see the pockmarks on the Tartar's face and clearly hear the enemy's curses and roars.

"Ah ah ah ah ah!"

Within fifteen meters of the enemy, Ajie no longer knew how many meters away he was, but he could smell the dirty sweat emanating from the enemy soldiers.

"Ready to fire!"

The commander's order was like the sound of nature, and Ajie raised his musket with a sense of relief.

The brothers in the front row did not raise their guns or draw their swords to rush forward, but instead held their shields against their chests.

"Come on, brother!" The other party didn't look back. He briefly freed his right hand to give Ajie a thumbs up, and then raised his middle finger to the Tartar in front of him.

Bang bang bang!
The Tartars opened fire at will without waiting for orders from their officers, but the players in the first row with or without shields acted as human shields.

Blood splattered, wood chips flew, and the warriors in the first row fell forward, with blood seeping out dark red spots under their bodies.

"Kill...Tartar......" The dying player raised his bloody fingers tremblingly, as if he was going to pierce the enemy's eyes with his spear-like fingers.

The Tartars fired a volley at close range. Their vision was originally obscured by the smoke, but gusts of cold wind blew away the thick fog of smoke, and they finally saw the enemy's situation clearly.

After suffering a round of close-range volleys and suffering 20% ​​to 30% casualties in an instant, the Ming army remained motionless as a mountain!
If it were any other Ming army, their morale would have collapsed and they would have fled, leaving behind the bodies of their allies.

However, thousands of surviving players still firmly held their muskets level and aimed forward, waiting for the order.

"Reload your gun!"

The Tartars panicked when they saw this and hurriedly tried their best to reload the ammunition, but in a hurry they only became more panicked and confused. Some of them spilled the gunpowder, some of them stuck the rods outside, and some of them even couldn't help but scream and wail.

The difference in morale is like the difference between heaven and earth. Only these elite gunners who have undergone professional training can feel how terrifying this Ming army's firearms battalion is.

It's simply invincible!
"First row, open fire!" The commander's order almost broke his throat.

"Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang..."

Thousands of bird guns erupted with fireworks and smoke at the same time. The musket fire within fifteen meters was a massacre. Thousands of Tatars fell in an instant, and the splattering blood mist filled the air, as if dyeing the colorless air red.

"Second Platoon, fire!"

The Tatars who took the first round of volleys had already fallen, and the Tatar gunners and heavy infantry behind them could only take the volleys themselves.

The musket fire brought a brain-crushing death shock, and thousands of people turned into corpses on the ground in an instant.

The instantaneous casualties of 30% to 40% not only crushed the morale of the Tartars, but also killed a large number of middle and lower-level officers in one blow and destroyed the chain of command.

The commander's voice was already hoarse, and he gripped his sword tightly and pointed it forward, "Discard your guns and draw your swords. Come with me and drive these dogs out of the world!"

　I wish you all a happy National Day holiday.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)