Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 279: Celery and Onion

Dorgon shuddered all over when he heard this, and quickly ran forward. Countless Qing soldiers passed by him in the cold wind, like hungry students running to the cafeteria when the bell rang.

The Beiwei Army soldiers followed on their horses on both sides, occasionally whipping the captives along the way with their long whips, or playing the "Chi Le Song" on their erhu and horse-head fiddle, humming loudly "Grassland, Yinshan..."

The Qing soldiers who were farther away from the referee were in bad luck.

They only heard the sound of the pottery thunder, but could not understand the specific "rules of the game". When they saw the people in front of them fleeing forward, they thought that the Beiwei Army was going to "hold" a hunting meeting.

This is the hunting activity that the Tatars are most familiar with.

When hunting deer and pigs was not enough for them, they would use slaves as prey and enjoy their desperate cries and pleas for mercy as they fled.

But now the offensive and defensive positions have reversed, and the Eight Banners have become the hunted.

However, these captives were not discouraged. While fleeing forward with the main force, they looked for flaws in the Beiwei cavalry and took advantage of them to escape, thinking that they could escape control by hiding in the snow-covered mountains and forests.

However, the players had already made a plan. The cavalry following the two wings was only the first line of defense. The real backup was the players hiding in the surrounding snow and forests.

The Tartar was full of hope, thinking that he had escaped and was about to regain his freedom, but he suddenly ran into a fully armed hunter.

The hope that had risen to the top of the mountain suddenly fell off a cliff. This 180-degree reversal of emotions made people roar out the deepest roar of despair.

This kind of playful gameplay is the idea of ​​​​funny people.

They said that it would be pointless to kill the Tartars directly. It would be better to give the Tartars some hope and then destroy the hope suddenly, so that the Tartars could experience the soul-trembling fear.

“Ahahahaha, so cool—”

The people enjoyed savoring the look of prey that changed from sunny to cloudy, watching the Tartar who could not believe the desperate reality until his death, and only felt that a warm current was about to gush out from below.

Even the war-crazed players who always shout for war and killing think that these people who enjoy having fun are really devils. The Chaos Evil God will give them performance awards when he sees them.

The war maniacs bet that if there were no system rules to constrain them, these fun-loving people would destroy the entire world.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah……"

Desperate roars came one after another from both sides of the hunting ground. Dorgon looked in the direction of the sound, but saw only densely packed running figures around him.

Some people exhaled hot steam and ran with all their might, some wailed in pain, their mouths and noses covered with tears and snot, and some stepped on gravel and branches and fell to the ground, and were soon trampled to death by the prisoners behind them.

Although they only had thin clothes on to keep warm, the heat generated by tens of thousands of people running was enough to keep away the cold.

Dorgon looked up at the distant sky. The rising sun was high in the sky. Since the sun rises as usual, it will set as usual. The daytime is shorter in winter.

If they continued to run until sunset, they would still have a chance to escape.

Dorgon shouted out his thoughts loudly, saying that as long as all the captives maintained a jogging pace all the way south, they would be able to survive and escape.

However, Dorgon overestimated his own and the captives' physical strength, and ignored the rules announced by the "referee" before the game started.

One finger snap takes about 7.2 seconds, and ten finger snaps take 72 seconds.

Perhaps Dorgon hadn't heard the screams of those who had fallen behind in the previous rounds, but this time he certainly heard the screams coming from behind him, like the cries of wild boars caught in a trap.

The Beiwei Army rode their war horses in a horizontal line at the rear, maintaining a moderate speed to approach the lagging prisoners. If the prisoners were exhausted and fell to the ground, and passed through the gaps between the cavalry, they would be left to the infantry behind to finish off the prisoners.

If the stipulated time of seventy-two seconds is exceeded, the cavalry following the prey will begin to practice archery, or speed up their horses and swing hammers to smash the back of the prisoner's head.

The bloody "last-in-last-out elimination system" deepened the atmosphere of despair. The lagging prisoners had to speed up, forcing the prisoners in the middle to speed up as well, and ultimately forcing everyone to accelerate the internal competition.

At this moment, the physical weakness of the injured and the elderly is revealed.

The crowd of snow racers gradually separated into a clear front and back, as if a cheese pizza was torn in half.

Those who fell behind were mercilessly knocked away by the war horses and then stabbed to death with swords by the infantry behind.

The players on horseback let out a victorious roar, swung their blood-stained hammers, and shouted, like shepherds herding cattle and sheep to another pasture, "Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry! If you don't want to die, run as fast as you can!"

Hundreds of bodies lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath them. The snow-covered ground looked as if it had been painted with dark red graffiti.

As the captives dispersed and thinned out, the "greenhouse effect" formed by the crowd gradually lost its effect, and the cold air once again invaded the bodies of every Tartar. The ambient temperature that originally felt like early spring suddenly dropped to the depths of winter.

The heat generated by the intense exercise was blown away by the cold wind in a moment, and the prisoners who fell on the edge had their limbs frozen stiff by the cold air.

When the body temperature drops below 35 degrees, various side effects begin to appear. And when the body temperature drops below 30 degrees, the body almost loses its functions, and can only run a dozen or so steps according to inertia before immediately falling forward to the ground.

As more and more Qing soldiers died around him, Dorgon felt a deeper sense of fear overtaking him.

He ran forward waving his arms desperately, and suddenly felt warm liquid splashing on his arms.

He looked down and saw that it was actually blood splattered from the wound on his waist. Although the cold air was enough to freeze the wound, every time he moved vigorously, the wound would tear.

His running speed gradually slowed down, and just as Dorgon was about to be left behind by the captives beside him, a man wearing a "gas mask" suddenly rushed over. The man's temperament and strange equipment made it clear that he was a Beiwei soldier.

"Good morning, Prince Rui." The man spoke in a joking tone, swinging his arms in a very natural rhythm as he ran. The thick fur coat he wore was enough to protect him from the wind and cold.

The man had a sword on his waist and was running beside him defenselessly.

Dorgon looked at the man a few more times, his eyes fixed on the knife that symbolized freedom.

However, before he could act, the opponent deliberately took a few steps away and immediately began to speak nonsense loudly.

"Prince Rui of Daiqing, Dorgon Aisin-Gioro, served as the regent of Daiqing in the 17th year of Chongzhen. Upon learning of the dramatic changes taking place within the Great Wall, he mobilized a large number of combat-capable troops with the intention of entering the Great Wall to fight for supremacy, at least to seize some northern territory for Daiqing.

Originally, Shanhaiguan was taken over by the Chuang army, but unexpectedly, the former garrison commander of Shanhaiguan returned, recaptured Shanhaiguan and surrendered to the Qing. Dorgon was able to successfully enter the pass, defeat the Chuang army, seize the entire northern region, and even the entire world.

Even though Dorgon ordered the shaving of hair and changing of clothing, which provoked a large number of gentry and common people to resist, he eventually massacred all the rebels and secured his colonial rule..."

The seventeenth year of Chongzhen?
Let the Qing Dynasty succeed?
Dorgon wondered if his brain was failing from the growing cold, or if the other party had slipped up and was talking nonsense. How could the other party identify him as Dorgon from so many captives?

Is there some kind of identity mark behind me?
And according to the Ming Dynasty's reign, this year is only the end of the 12th year of Chongzhen, right? Why is he the protagonist of this passage?
"Who are you?" Dorgon felt the cold air invade his throat, and he coughed and stammered while speaking, taking a while to finish his words.

"I am a Celestial Dragon from four hundred years in the future. I am here to kill all the wild boars and rebuild Shenzhou!"

Four hundred years later, what nonsense!
The young man who claimed to be a Tianlong man quickly disappeared in the running crowd, leaving only those seemingly chaotic but extremely logical words echoing in Dorgon's mind.

Dorgon subconsciously threw away all the unfavorable words and gradually came to believe in the comments given by this "fortune teller".

In the seventeenth year of Chongzhen, that is, five years later, he could become the regent and seize the world within the Great Wall. Could this be the fate of Dorgon?
These few words of encouragement greatly boosted Dorgon's morale.

He will not die and can still control the overall situation of the world!
As long as he can escape from this deadly place, and given five years, he will definitely be able to fulfill this prophecy!

Dorgon felt that the more he ran, the stronger he became, and the stronger his desire to survive became. He ran several miles away with amazing willpower.

However, spiritual will is ultimately no match for the cruelty of nature.

The cold air pressed into the body cuts the airways and lungs like a knife, causing the lungs to quickly become congested. The accumulated blood accumulates more and more until it bursts and spurts out blood, and a large amount of blood rushes into the trachea.

Dorgon coughed up blood intermittently, his steps became slower and slower, and people around him kept surpassing his position.

"No, I can't die here... cough cough... I still have to enter the pass and conquer the world... cough cough..."

Drops of blood were left at Dorgon's feet. He then stepped on a short branch and stumbled. With no time to adjust his balance while running at high speed, he fell straight into a pile of snow mixed with donkey and mule feces, filling his mouth with it.

He struggled to get up, but the symptoms of coughing up blood became more and more obvious, and the noise of his rapid breathing was like that of an old tractor.

His legs felt as if they were filled with lead water, and every step Dorgon took exhausted half of his life's strength. Suddenly, he felt a violent collision from behind, and he felt dizzy and the world was upside down.

When he was knocked into a snowdrift by his captives and stood up again, he unexpectedly saw that the snowy field covered with corpses suddenly turned into the Liaohe Plain with flowers blooming in spring.

His brothers from the Aisin-Gioro family rode their war horses and rushed towards him.

All the older brothers stopped their horses beside him, then dismounted and proudly showed him the prey they had hunted one by one.

Dorgon suddenly felt like he was home, but then the faces of his brothers and war horses fell off like melted wax, revealing horrific rotten flesh and bones.

"Give me your life!" They let out a terrifying roar, and each clear Chinese sentence was like thousands of arrows piercing Dorgon's chest. The ghostly appearance was just like the slaves he had beheaded, and pale dead faces seemed to appear before his eyes.

"Ahhhh! Get out of here! Get out of here!"

Dorgon was so frightened that he stepped back quickly, but accidentally sat on the ground. These resentful Han ghosts gradually wrapped around his body, gnawing at his body and pulling at his soul.

Dorgon suddenly felt as if his whole body was burning with fire. The intense pain made him roar as if to vent his anger, but no sound came out.

Boom, boom, boom, the prisoner's feet came one after another, and then even the iron hooves of the warhorse rolled over him.

A dignified prince of the Qing Dynasty died under the trampling of hundreds of people.

The two-hour "snow marathon" ultimately did not produce any winner.

More than 10,000 Eight Banners prisoners died at the hands of their pursuers, under the feet of their former comrades, on the hard soil of Korea in the howling cold wind, and some even died of suffocation due to congestion in the lungs.

At this point, there were no more obstacles on the way to Hanyang for the Beiwei Army.

With the power of a great victory, they led the baoyi and Korean prisoners south, while another force consisting of a small number of players and a large number of volunteers continued to pursue the remnants of the defeated soldiers eastward.

……

The news that Prince Rui had won a great victory and assembled 70,000 troops, but was defeated in one fell swoop due to a moment of negligence, quickly spread to the capital of Hanyang.

When Jirgalang heard the news, he immediately cried out that something was wrong, and those treacherous nobles in the court who were determined to defect to the Tartars also began to panic.

If the Ming army invades the royal capital, these "pro-enemy factions" will definitely be completely purged!
(End of this chapter)