Since ancient times, night battles have been the most difficult.
In the dark sky, no one can control the entire battle situation. Even if there are thousands of troops, in the eyes of the soldiers, they only see the situation in front of them, and the fight is just life and death in front of them. Therefore, every army is divided, and every person is emotionally isolated.
The strength of the generals is inseparable from the strength of the army. Without the support of the military, many soldiers are no more resilient than ordinary people. In ancient times, if the army roared for no reason, the whole army would be defeated, let alone the army fighting at night?
When soldiers reach their mental and physical limits, and when a small group of troops loses their determination to persevere, they will collapse at any time. The collapse of one unit will spread the fear that the enemy is too powerful and difficult to defeat, causing all subsequent units to be shaken.
Therefore, as the war broke out, Wang Shixian issued orders repeatedly, asking all ministries and camps to light up fires. The lights must be brightly lit, not only to illuminate the defense line around the camp, but also to illuminate himself, telling every soldier that our camp of tens of thousands of people Very stable! Commander Wang is personally taking command!
However, bright lights also have downsides to bright lights.
With the dense lights, soldiers can see the movements of almost every battlefield.
They saw the Mongolian army like a rising tide in the night, gradually approaching and impacting dikes everywhere; they saw countless torches entwining, crossing, extinguishing and lighting up; they saw several fortifications. The fences and watchtowers on the wall were set alight by torches thrown by the Mongols. The flames rising into the sky did not make the situation between the enemy and ourselves clear, but instead caused confusion in people's hearts.
The Mongols' offensive was too fierce. At this time, victory or defeat depended on a thread, and reinforcements had to be sent immediately, but... there were not many troops that could be sent out. Wang Shixian paced back and forth on the pier, looking at his subordinates one by one.
And while he was pondering, the sounds of fighting broke out in the northwest corner of the camp, which was originally quiet.
The money is not spent and he ordered in a deep voice.
Nearly a hundred war slaves climbed up the high slope while drawing their bows and firing back. The bow strings crashed and made noises, and the arrows flew out and disappeared into the night.
The war slaves took three to five steps and fired one round, then took another three to five steps and fired one round. They kept moving the arrows in their hands. Although they could not see the trajectory of the arrows, they could hear the unique buzzing sound of the arrow shafts bouncing in the air, and then the crackling sound of the arrows hitting the rocks. The clanking sound on the armor, or the muffled sound piercing into the human body.
Most of these war slaves were selected from among the captives. Since Genghis Khan went south, he fought many battles with the Jin army, captured countless cities, and captured many captives, most of whom were killed. However, there were also some thousands and hundreds of households with relatively few people who would choose from the captives. Those who are good at fighting are all war slaves, and they are ordered to rush to the front.
Without spending money, he became the leader of the war slaves as the centurion's personal slave. To be honest, with the high death rate of these war slaves, one would not even know if one was promoted or forced to die without spending any money.
At this time, just after several rounds of bows and arrows were fired, another roar was heard from above, and dozens of hand axes and daggers were thrown down from high places.
Among the war slaves, there is a small leader. I have always envied Qian Buhua's special status and even more envied his Mongolian name, so I always followed Qian Buhua and served him diligently.
At this time, he was approaching his face, about to ask for instructions to attack, when an ax passed by the tip of Qian Buhua's nose and hit the little leader's face squarely. The huge impact split his forehead, bridge of nose, and roof of his mouth, leaving only his tongue still intact and twitching, and all the blood splashed onto Qian Fuhua's face.
Qian Buhua casually raised the corpse as a cover, straightened his body slightly and looked around, only to see that many of the war slaves were dead.
After all, if you attack from the top, you will always suffer some losses. But that doesn't matter, war slaves are not human beings at all and have no value. Even if they are all dead, as long as they take out a group of prisoners and spare their lives, they can be replenished immediately and continue to be alive and well on the battlefield.
Behind them, the roars of Centurion Naminfu were heard one after another, and the horn sound representing the charge became more and more urgent.
Qian Buhua led the war slaves forward, their pace quickened, and everyone roared subconsciously.
The next moment, they rushed to the top of the slope and collided with the defenders.
The battlefield was restricted by the continuous rocks and was not open, so the crowd could only be crowded together.
Both sides immediately noticed that the spearmen on both sides first lowered the tips of their spears slightly to the right so that they could bounce up quickly and stab the enemy's upper body.
Mongolia relies on iron cavalry and has little research on infantry sword and gun warfare. This posture was habitually used by the infantry of Song, Jin, Xixia and other countries.
So both sides couldn't help but sigh. While feeling emotional, their nerves were tempered to the level of steel, and they were assured that they would not reduce their murderous intent.
When the distance between the two sides came within five steps, the spearmen launched fierce thrusts at each other at the same time, while the swordsmen and shieldmen squatted down, preparing for a surprise attack.
Wen Qian, who was wearing Zha armor, became the focus of several enemies.
At the moment when the two armies were fighting, a spearman stabbed at Wen Qian, while the other swordsman and shieldman rubbed his body from the side and slashed with his sword.
Wen Qian swung his spear horizontally to deflect the thrust, and then shot back. The spearman on the opposite side stepped back quickly, but the blade still passed over his arm, bringing out a stream of blood. Wen Qian's followers arrived in time and covered the flanks with shields. The two shields collided with each other, and the two sides slashed at each other several times, making clanging noises.
When Wen Qian was about to pursue him, the spearman swung his spear horizontally and forced Wen Qian back to where he was with the sound of wind.
So familiar. Under the firelight, the two sides' response was like sparring in a school field, and the main soldiers and subordinates on both sides cooperated in the same way.
The spearman just didn't spend his money.
Seeing Wen Qian's fierceness, he praised with a cold face: "What a skill!"
"Where? Why did you vote for Heita?" Wen Qian asked with a sneer.
"Daxia, Zhuo Luo and Nanjian Military Division." Qian Buhua answered half a sentence and said no more.
Wen Qian nodded: "No wonder... I was a Mongolian herder slave in my early years, and later I escaped to Gongchang Mansion."
Those are really neighbors. Maybe the two families fought in Lanzhou and Hezhou in the early years.
The two sides exchanged answers back and forth, still facing each other.
This kind of confrontation was very energy-consuming. Within a short period of time, Wen Qian felt like his breathing was heavy and sweat was dripping on his forehead. On the entire front with him as the center, some soldiers could not help but take the initiative to attack. Hundreds of long and short weapons were wielded with all their strength. The screams and the sounds of cutting and piercing the human body became more and more intensive and louder.
The originally relatively flat battle line was twisted and twisted by the advance and retreat of the soldiers. In the blink of an eye, it was cut into five or six sections by the terrain, and then turned into a dozen small unrelated battlefields.
Wen Qian and Qian Buhua stared at each other, not paying attention to the surrounding situation.
Both of them are veterans of the battlefield, and they know very well that at this time, if they are distracted, they will die.
－－－－－－Digression－－－－－
There have been too many distractions these past two days, so I’ll keep this chapter short... Dear readers, please bear with me...
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