When the sound of killing is loud, the sound of an arrow is not so clear and obvious.
At a tricky angle, the specially-made arrow struck at the only neck that was not covered by armor.
Jiang Jizu instinctively sensed the presence of the arrows, but two Tartars were coming from the left and right. By the time he forced the enemy back and then waved his sword, it was already too late.
The arrow was about to penetrate his neck, pierce his throat, and make his blood splatter.
Soon after, Vice General Jin shouted from the side and rushed towards him as fast as possible.
He didn't even have time to shout "General" before he was stabbed in the right side of his neck, and he couldn't speak because of the pain.
"Vice General Jin." Jiang Jizu's eyes were about to burst, "Back off, you back off."
Maybe if he waits until the military doctor comes and pulls out the arrow, he still has a chance to survive.
But there is nowhere to retreat.
There were people all around, splashing blood, broken limbs, and neighing horses.
As long as it stops, it will be pierced by a spear, cut off by a long knife, and lie down like a piece of meat without making a sound.
Even though Jiang Jizu tried his best to protect him, several spears still came over and stabbed Vice General Jin's body.
He clutched his neck and shook his head with all his strength.
Don't... don't, General.
War is so cruel, and the battlefield is so bloody. As long as you slow down a moment, you will die.
Lieutenants can die, but generals cannot.
Northern Xinjiang needs General Jiang, and the border army also needs General Jiang.
Even after Deputy General Jin died, there were countless deputy generals, but there was only one general.
"General...kill the enemy." He used all his strength to squeeze out four words.
If we continue to entangle ourselves without killing the enemy, more compatriots will die and more blood will be shed.
How sad that they can't even stop for the dead.
Jiang Jizu suddenly raised his head, glanced coldly at the direction of the arrow, and roared angrily, "My sons, the Tatars are anxious, the Tatars are afraid! Kill them, drive them out, and let them go back to the grassland!"
"Go back to the grassland!" tens of thousands of soldiers shouted together.
Their moves became more and more fierce, and their movements became more cruel.
They stepped on the corpses of their enemies and compatriots, dragging their scarred bodies with their sharp blades raised high.
The snow-white blade reflects the red clouds, like the color of blood, stinging every Tartar's eyes.
He clearly used his skills to rush into the Guanjin Line, but was forcefully forced out of the gate. His fellow tribesmen fell one after another, and those who were still alive were injured and bleeding, but the enemy was as fearless as if he had no pain.
People's hearts will be afraid and military morale will collapse.
When the first person started to run away on his horse, the people behind him followed suit and galloped away.
The equally tired soldiers of Dayu pursued them even more bravely, as if they had been given a shot of blood, and killed the Tartars.
Jiang Jizu did not follow.
He staggered to Vice General Jin, suppressing his sadness and pain, "Wake up, I'll take you back for treatment, I'll take you back to pull out the arrows, and I still have two sausages hidden away that I haven't told you. .”
"You can't sleep. There are still two brats in your family who have not grown up. Your wife is still waiting for you to return to Fengjing."
"Although you feel disgusted every time you talk about it, I know that you love your family very much, and I also know that you want to reunite with them and never be separated from them... Lao Jin, get up, get up."
But that man, he was stuck on the ground with several spears, his neck was bent, and his eyes were wide open, as if he wanted to take another look in the direction of Fengjing.
He could never get up again, and like millions of fallen soldiers, he became the nourishment of this land.
Jiang Jizu had led troops in battles for so many years and thought he would never shed tears, but it was not until the coldness on his cheeks that he realized his sadness belatedly.
If he had known this, he would have handed over the two sausages.
I had known this...
This battle must be fought, and this enemy must be killed.
If you don't resist, more people will die.
There were many more people than there are now.
Countless fatigue came over him, and Jiang Jizu could no longer hold on and fell down next to Vice General Jin.
He was really getting old, his arms would be sore and swollen, and the wounds left when he was young were aching now, and the white hair on his temples together reminded him that his body was declining.
A man cannot accept old age. When he was a teenager, he fought against the Tartars. He was so exhausted that he almost died. After a night's rest, he was still alive and kicking.
After the age of thirty, I begin to feel tired and cannot rest in one night. It takes two or even three nights to slowly regain my energy.
At the age of forty, the accumulated injuries and pains came back at the same time. The military doctors also saw me and took the medicine, but they couldn't find the problem. I could only lie on the military bed alone and fight with the willpower accumulated over the years.
However, the imperial doctor in the imperial city said that these illnesses require rest, but a general never has time to rest.
The devastation all over the ground, the blood all over the city, the innocent lives wasted, and the loss of close friends reminded him all the time.
As the war becomes uneven, the country becomes restless.
The war never stops, and the mission never stops.
I don't know who choked up first, and sobs swirled throughout the battlefield. Those who were still alive looked at the corpses of their comrades who had been chatting and laughing yesterday, and howled in despair.
Cry.
After crying, there is still something to do.
Killing is only the first step, injury is the second step.
The medical treatment of the Dayu Dynasty cannot be said to be excellent. Broken arms cannot be repaired, broken hearts cannot be saved, and those who bleed excessively are helpless. How many of the wounded soldiers lying on the ground can survive?
Looking through historical records, at the end of the confrontation between the two armies, the biggest loss was not the death in battle, but injuries.
Even the disposal of corpses after the war is a huge problem.
It was summer, and the bodies decomposed very quickly. If not dealt with as soon as possible, it might cause a large-scale plague, which would be a disaster for the border troops.
After briefly venting their emotions, the tearful soldiers had to prop up their bodies, carry their injured comrades for treatment, and send their dead comrades for burial.
It was the kind of haphazard burial that left no body, no name, or even a token.
Maybe someone with a good relationship will help save it, but who can guarantee that he will still be alive next time and this token can be returned to his relatives.
Jiang Jizu endured the pain all over his body, took off a wooden sign from Vice Admiral Jin's neck, rubbed it on his body again and again, and after confirming that his name was revealed, he solemnly put it into his arms.
"General." A soldier came over to report, "Reinforcements from the headquarters are about to arrive to deal with the aftermath of the Guanjin Line."
He weakly waved his hand, indicating that he could proceed.
Not long after, 60,000 soldiers and horses arrived and dismounted.
The two young men headed by him limped over and heaved a sigh of relief the moment they saw him.
On the hillside outside the city defense gate, there were also two teenagers who witnessed the purgatory on earth, turned around and left in silence.
