Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 39 Practice duration: two and a half weeks

The player at the front charged head-on into the county soldiers' ranks. The two sides, wearing simple armor, crashed into each other like villagers in a fight, shields clashing and debris flying.

"Charge, follow me!" Huang Zilong looked at his old friend, rushed towards the enemy with a steel knife, and disappeared in a flash.

"Liu Changsheng" followed behind with a steel knife in his hand. All he saw were Ming Dynasty militiamen with similar cloth buns and long cloth clothes. They were all cut from the same mold.

Fortunately, the "Friend or Foe Identification" clearly marks all players, and those without the "" mark on their heads are all hostile soldiers.

Liu Changsheng rushed into the center of the battlefield, as if he had stepped into the chaotic battle scene of Mount and Blade 3.

The noisy sounds of fighting and the crisp sounds of weapons colliding mixed together, and the uneven numbers of enemy and friendly militia filled his eyes. He could hardly use his visual and auditory senses to locate his specific position on the battlefield.

The enemies and our friends were fighting each other in a dense crowd, and the blood that kept flowing out soaked the ground. Some people fell down and were trampled to death by the feet coming and going, while some people got up and tried their best to grab the shoulders of their enemies and friends to get closer to the fresh air above.

Suddenly, an enemy soldier faced him from behind. Liu Changsheng raised his sword and was about to stab him, but when he swung the sword halfway, he saw the friendly soldier who was hugging and fighting with the enemy soldier switched sides, so he had to stop the sword in time.

The crowded and chaotic fighting scene made it difficult for him to take action.

"Oh oh oh oh!"

A long roar came from overhead. Liu Changsheng looked in the direction of the sound and saw several players swinging out by the hemp ropes, screaming and falling into the dense crowd. It looked like a boarding battle in the Age of Exploration, or like some terrifying upright ape.

"Changsheng, come and help!" Huang Zilong's voice came from the gap. Liu Changsheng was stunned for a moment, and his friend was already pushing the seriously injured enemy and walking quickly towards him.

"Watch me!" Liu Changsheng immediately rushed forward several steps, tightly gripped his waist knife and made an executioner's beheading posture, chopped down fiercely, and hit the militiaman's shoulder with the knife.

With a muffled sound, Liu Changsheng clearly felt the feeling of the steel knife entering the flesh, and the blood splashing out was actually "girly pink".

The blade tore through the militiaman's shoulder flesh and embedded an inch into his collarbone.

He struggled to move the knife stuck in his bone, just like pulling a tightly fitting key out of a lock, and finally managed to pull it out after some effort.

Pink blood splattered, and the militiaman's head tilted and he fell to the ground sideways, splashing bloody mud.

The feeling of killing the enemy for the first time was great, sweeping away Liu Changsheng's confusion when he first entered the battlefield, as if the soul of a otaku was injected with the courage of a veteran.

"How do you feel?" Huang Zilong sniffed and raised his hand to wipe the blood off his face.

"Why is this blood pink? Is it a harmony mechanism?"

"This is a feature of this game. If you're under 24, you won't be able to experience the full content—be careful!"

In a flash, the smile on Huang Zilong's face collapsed. Even though he tried his best to take a step forward and raised his shield to protect his old friend, he was still a step too slow.

A crossbow arrow flew over and hit Liu Changsheng's thigh. Unable to reduce the pain, he couldn't help but scream out, "Ahhhh!"

"How dare you trick my brother!"

Huang Zilong immediately became furious. He rushed forward with a steel knife in his hand, stabbed it into the crossbowman's abdomen, then quickly pulled it out and stabbed it again into the lower body of the enemy who was howling in pain.

"Ah!" The enemy instantly felt all the pain accumulated in his lifetime and was immediately knocked unconscious by the intense pain.

Seeing that the enemy had fainted but not yet died, and was still groaning subconsciously, Huang Zilong immediately picked up the enemy's crossbow, aimed it at the "egg sausage" and thrust it hard, causing the enemy to pass out in pain.

After dealing with the enemy, Huang Zilong turned around to look for his brother, but saw Liu Changsheng lying on the ground with a broken spear on his chest, and the tip of the spear embedded in his body.

"Brother!" Huang Zilong helped his brother, whose mouth was bleeding, up, and said with a nagging voice, "You didn't listen to me, and now you're suffering. I told you to reduce your pain, but you didn't listen."

"The feeling of reunion after a long separation is so good, so good..." Liu Changsheng closed his eyes tightly, raised his hand and gave a thumbs up.

"Brother, look at your left wrist. How many resurrections are there? If there's only one, you won't be able to die again!"

"I didn't see many lives, but I saw five black barcodes... I feel I can still save them." Liu Changsheng tried hard to suppress the bleeding wound.

"Fuck! I only had three at the start, and you got five at random? Screw you!"

Huang Zilong pushed his brother away in annoyance, but unexpectedly broke the dynamic balance between the spear tip and the bleeding wound, causing the wound to bleed profusely instantly.

"Fuck!" Liu Changsheng only felt that the speed of his life slipping away was accelerating, and a red death warning flashed before his eyes.

He couldn't help but look at his good brother who had indirectly dealt him a fatal blow, and gave him a dying gift.

A big middle finger. "No!" Huang Zilong, like the protagonist in a tragic drama, reached out to feel the warmth of the dead, but he didn't know where to start.

"No! I didn't kill my brother. It's not my fault, it's the world! Yes, it's the world's fault!" Huang Zilong's eyes were bloodshot, and murderous intent was surging. "The world killed my brother. I will go on a killing spree to avenge my brother!"

He gripped his muddy and bloody sword, held onto his shield pierced with arrows, and nimbly and anxiously climbed over the second tree trunk roadblock. The servants of the wealthy family in front of him were already in a mess.

They tried their best to protect Mr. Zhao, who was powerless, and fled backwards.

Mr. Zhao was a well-known gentry in the county. He thought about surrendering - the Zhao family had enough money and food to buy his life.

However, when I saw the thieves climbing over the roadblocks one after another, their faces covered in blood were twisted and crazy, and they were shouting that they wanted to "expel the princes and gentry from this world."

Mr. Zhao gave up this unrealistic idea.

Although he was very reluctant, Mr. Zhao had to admit that he had lost the battle.

Eight hundred people were defeated by a group of less than two hundred bandits, and the defeat was so tragic.

Now he could only pray to God to help him escape, and in the future he would double his offerings to the gods and burn incense continuously.

"Prepare to die!" Several beggars suddenly appeared on both sides of the road in front of Master Zhao.

They held spears in their hands, and the smell of blood mixed with mud on their bodies formed a foul stench.

"The master of the Zhao family is here!" Someone shouted loudly to the nearby people, but the man was quickly knocked down by several arrows shot by the servants.

The two groups joined forces without saying a word and fought fiercely.

The information just conveyed was like a stone thrown into a lake, causing unexpected reactions in the rippling water.

The players who arrived in time increased the number of people in the encirclement, and bows, arrows and muskets flew off. The servants that Mr. Zhao paid to feed were indeed elite troops. Even if the players had the advantage in numbers locally, they were quickly defeated by the servants.

Mr. Zhao's servants quickly tore open a gap and fled in the direction where the militia were fleeing.

If he could gather one or two hundred militiamen, he could at least escape with his life, not to mention turning back to resist.

"As long as we fight our way out, we can survive!"

Master Zhao urged his servants to run faster, but ignored his own weak physical strength. The servants could only run and stop to keep up with the master's pace, and some even carried the master on their backs and ran wildly.

Thanks to Master Zhao's delay, the number of servants was suddenly reduced by half, and the servants in close combat suffered the most losses.

What lunatics, all of them are lunatics. The beggar thieves could actually beat the servants whom he had spent a lot of money to almost annihilate them.

Master Zhao couldn't care less. Even if not a single servant was left around him, as long as he was still alive...

The sparse number of servants in front suddenly stopped. Mr. Zhao wanted to curse, but through the gaps between the figures he saw several figures blocking the road ahead.

"Quick, kill them!"

However, after the two sides exchanged fire, Master Zhao discovered that his side was actually at a slight disadvantage, and he had no choice but to go into battle himself.

Mr. Zhao pulled out a long sword that he had never thought of using and slashed at a thief in front of him, but there was a crisp sound and a clang, and his long sword was bounced away.

"Save me!" Master Zhao screamed in shock. He turned around and saw that all the servants around him were fighting bloody battles and no one had the energy to protect him.

Falling into despair, Master Zhao discovered that the martial arts he had always despised had become the key to his heart...

I still need to accumulate military merits, report to the emperor, and become a general or a prime minister. I can't die here in such a cowardly way!

"You killed my brother, die!"

The thief took out a few small throwing knives from his arms, and like a hero, he clenched the knives and threw them with all his strength.

One knife, two knives, three knives...all stabbed into Master Zhao's body.

"you……"

Master Zhao never dreamed that he would die at the hands of a lowly thief. Even as darkness enveloped his world, he was unable to utter the words of resentment that were lingering in his throat.

(End of this chapter)