The loud shouts of killing echoed across the lake, drowning out the howling wind. Burning smoke drifted into the sky, blocking the bright sunlight. The space between the sky and the lake was full of solemnity and darkness.
Shulot once again stood on the high altar, receiving cheers from his guards. Teres held up a large shield as high as a person, took over the position of the warrior captain, and covered him in front of him. The young commander looked around, distinguishing the noisy battlefield and judging the progress of the battle.
Directly ahead, nearly a hundred large boats led by the Russians had already attacked within thirty or forty steps, and were fighting together with the front line of the Mexican Navy. The Crocodile Marshal's flag was flying high, and with dozens of sturdy boats rowing desperately, carrying the most elite family warriors, they broke through the obstacles and rushed towards Black Wolf's flagship again fiercely.
The commander of the front line, Annatri, turned back again and looked at the stable flagship in the rear. She felt a little relieved when she saw His Highness standing again. She didn't see the tall and calm warrior captain, who was full of worry.
Immediately, the female warrior glared ahead, remembering the sneak attack on the opponent's flagship, and her anger erupted like a volcano.
"The shameless rat fish who secretly shoots hidden arrows!"
Anatli pointed his spear, led dozens of surrounding large boats, accelerated forward, and slammed into Tarasco's flagship. The two large boats collided violently, and the vigorous female warrior shouted loudly and charged forward with her gun drawn. She walked on the rocking deck as if on the ground. With a thrust of the three-meter spear, she cleverly bypassed the shield and stabbed to death a Tarasco warrior who was blocking the way. Then, she identified the opponent's commander and approached again with her gun raised.
Ospie squatted on his knees, stabilizing his body on the rocking boat. Then, with a quick glance, he identified the leader of the opponent's boat, a female warrior wielding a big gun. The "crocodile" nobleman did not hesitate, took out an expensive copper ax from his waist, took a step forward, and threw it away with all his strength.
Anatri moved forward quickly, always looking at the other commander, and his pupils suddenly shrank. She jumped back like a butterfly, tilted her body quickly, and then swept hard, deflecting the whistling axe. The copper ax whirled and struck the side of the boat with a "click" sound, piercing half an inch into the wood. The female warrior was swept away by this force and fell back into her boat lightly.
Annatri stared at the expensive hidden weapon throwing ax with wide almond eyes, furious.
"Ratfish! Still attacking!"
Osipai spitted blood with a fierce "poof". He didn't respond and took out a copper ax again.
The confrontation between the naval commanders of both sides lasted only a moment. As soon as the two magnificent boats stabilized, the warriors on board immediately rushed to kill each other. In order to support the group leader, nearly a hundred large boats around them came closer and collided with each other, forming a flat land on the lake and unable to move anymore. Then, nearly two thousand warriors from each side, wearing different uniforms, stabbing spears and wielding sticks, entangled and killed each other.
These warriors are the elite beside the commander. Most of them are loyal and brave, and they fight swiftly and fiercely. At this critical moment of the battle, there was a bit of madness in the fighting.
Sixty-seven Tarasco warriors formed a small formation, alternated their bronze spears, and stabbed three Mexica warriors to death one after another. Another Mexica warrior saw this, his eyes turned red. He threw his war stick forward suddenly, then held his shield and rushed forward desperately. The war club struck, and the bronze spear at the front was thrown into chaos, and then was knocked away by the rushing shield. Several bronze spears from behind stabbed randomly one after another, finally bypassing the edge of the shield and stabbing into the warrior's thigh with a "puff". The warrior cried out in pain, used his free right arm to circle around several bronze spears, and refused to let go.
The opponent's gun formation suddenly came to a standstill, and the Mexican warriors from behind quickly approached. In close combat, Tarasco's bronze spear was no longer effective. The obsidian war club swung powerfully, hitting the opponent's head and neck with precision, with a simplicity that had been tempered for thousands of years. Within a dozen breaths, the Tarasco warriors opposite him were hit on the side of the face, their throats were cut, and they died on their backs one after another.
When the warriors looked back again to check on the teammate who had been hit by the spear, they saw that he had already opened his eyes and was lying on his side, with a pool of blood under his body, and he was motionless. His right arm was still holding several bronze spears, and he refused to let go. The warriors were silent for a few breaths, then turned around again and charged towards the center of the chaos.
At the center of the chaotic battle, more elite Tarasco warriors formed a spear array of bronze spears, showing great power on the narrow canoe. A Mexican longbow warrior looked at his companions who were stabbed to death one after another, his eyes turned red, he lit the rocket in his hand and threw it towards the dense array of spears. After a moment, the gunpowder exploded rapidly, igniting several Tarasco warriors in the center, and the gun formation suddenly dispersed. The burning warrior howled miserably, let out an unearthly howl, and then jumped into the lake.
The warriors of Tarasco were burned many times, and after suffering heavy losses, they finally understood the principle of releasing the fire demon. They also followed suit, finding the fire and rockets on the opponent's deck, imitating igniting the paper gunpowder shells, and then threw them at places where there were more Mexicans. Some bronze spear warriors hesitated for a moment and turned themselves into torches. More warriors threw them in advance, and the gunpowder arrows detonated with delay, rolled around, and then burned without distinguishing between friend and foe.
Soon, blazing flames ignited everywhere and gradually spread on the hundreds of closely connected boats. Then, the remaining rockets on the deck exploded one after another, slowly lighting up an extremely huge torch. More violent smoke rose, completely blackening the flags of the naval commanders on both sides.
Looking at the spectacular fireworks in front of him, Shulot stood solemnly on the high platform of the boat and kept giving orders. The flag bearers waved the flags, the short conch sound conveyed the instructions to disperse to both sides, and the forward circling semaphore directed the direction of advancement.
The Black Wolf's flagship slowly retreated, commanding the longbow guards on dozens of large boats behind it, and steadily fired towards the enemies further away, setting fire to the Tarasco large boats that were coming one after another.
Then, the dozens of Mexican canoes in the center spread further to both sides to avoid the increasingly grand torch. More than a hundred large boats on both wings outflanked and moved forward, driving away the other's small boats that collided randomly. Then the slender warship accelerated all the way, went around the enemy's rear, and used rockets to ignite Tarasco's large ship, which was still in chaos.
More than 500 small Mexican boats followed the movement of the big boat, gradually unfolding from the chaotic wings. The group of boats is like a school of swaying fish, moving flexibly. The longbow militiamen on the boat used their superb bow skills to shoot enemy warriors at close range.
Under the command of Shulot, two battlefields, one in front and one in back, gradually formed on the lake. The battlefield ahead was surrounded by flames, and the navies of both sides fought fiercely. The navy commander personally rushed to the front line. The battlefield in the rear was blazing, and the Tarasco Navy was under fire on one side, unable to recover from the chaos.
As for the small boats fighting on the outer periphery, they had no impact on the overall situation of the battlefield. At this time, no one was paying attention, and they completely lost their command. The militiamen gradually slowed down their brutal fighting. The Mexica boats swayed in circles, while the Tarasco boats began to flee southward sporadically. In the queue of people fleeing south, a blood-stained boat was inconspicuous, but it rowed very fast and accurately fled to the mouth of the river upstream.
On the battlefield at the rear, with the call of the Russian guards, Peng Guali, the commander of the Chapala Army, finally woke up from the sluggishness of fear.
He looked at the fighting battlefield in the distance. The flag of the Alligator coach had been submerged in thick smoke, which seemed quite ominous. He looked at the burning boats everywhere, and the Mexica navy quickly approached from both sides, throwing out ghostly fire one after another. He looked at the eager-looking bodyguard again, his face uncertain and his eyes filled with murderous intent.
The Russian bodyguard looked anxious and made a sincere request again.
"Dear Chapala Feather, the marshal is fighting in the front, only a few dozen steps away from the enemy's flagship. The Chapala Legion in the rear has more than a hundred large boats! Please lead the rear army to charge quickly, we still have Chance to win!”
Hearing this, Chapala Feather looked majestic and remained silent. He looked around and saw the legion of warriors controlling the ship, their morale low. They looked panicked, waiting for the leader's order in uneasiness.
On the periphery of the fleet, small boats from Mexica kept coming quickly, shooting "whoosh" long arrows, and then turned and fled. The angle of these long arrows was quite tricky, and from time to time they penetrated the shields and killed the exposed Chapala warriors. In front of both sides, a similar number of large Mexican boats gradually approached, shooting out a stream of mysterious rockets, igniting the outermost boats. Farther ahead, there were still hundreds of enemy ships, spread out into a loose formation.
"Where is the chance of victory here? Where is the chance of survival? The Chapala Army cannot be completely lost here!"
Peng Guali thought quickly. He is also a general who has experienced battles. As long as he suppresses his fear of the unknown of mythology, he can make wise decisions.
"It will take three or four days to escape south against the current, and you will be chased by the Mexican Navy. The slower boat will suffer a lot of damage! And once the marshal survives and returns to the northern defense line, liquidation and accountability will be inevitable... Then, the vitality lies in the north downstream!”
Thinking of this, Chapala's "Feather" nodded and looked at the Marshal's personal guards with a smile.
"Okay, let's charge north!"
The legion commander's flying bird flag finally waved, and the rapid drums beat, conveying the order to speed up the northward march. Peng Guali's boat gradually accelerated. The remaining boats found the backbone and swarmed in, surrounding it and heading north together. More than a hundred large boats and more than three hundred small boats, fully loaded with the Chapala Legion, rushed to the battlefield in the north. This is the last strength of the Tarasco Navy!
Shulot's pupils shrank when he saw more than a hundred large boats rushing towards them.
"The Tarascans are so selfless!"
The young commander still has two hundred large ships under his command. Although he can win the battle, he may lose many warriors. He waved the battle flag again, and the large boats on both wings turned back. The large boats in the center gathered behind and formed a tight formation.
Shulot stood solemnly and waved the flag again.
"咻廻咻" Thousands of long-bow guards set up their bows and fired arrows, and the continuous rain of fire was shot at the approaching enemy ships, setting more than a dozen large boats on fire. A moment later, there was another burst of fire, taking away the same number of enemy ships.
Nearly a hundred large Tarasco boats were as fast as the wind, approaching the front line in a moment. The Mexican navy accelerated its contraction and gathered into a group, ready for battle at any time.
At this moment, the shrill sound of conch trumpets sounded from the enemy fleet, and a flag with birds painted on it turned half a circle, pointing slightly to the northwest. On the big boat under the flag, the Russian guards covered their chests and looked at the distinguished Captain Chapala in disbelief, and were then thrown into the lake by several warriors.
Peng Guali's eyes were deep and cold. He glanced faintly at the "crocodile" flag a hundred steps away, lowered his eyes, and felt complicated. The high flag is flying in the blood and fire, and the Northern Marshal is still fighting on the battlefield. After standing still for a moment, Captain Chapala continued to wave the battle flag, pointing again to the northwest river mouth.
Under the command of the legion commander, the charging fleet slightly adjusted its direction without any pause. Following the slanted flag, they deviated from the main force of Mexica's large boats, rushed through the enemy's defense line in an instant, and continued to move forward in an arc. Soon, the huge fleet of ships passed by the front battlefield like the wind, speeding towards the lower reaches of the Leman River.
Shulot was stunned for a moment and understood instantly.
"Follow the wind and the current, increase the speed to the fastest, and go straight downstream... This is to escape!"
The young commander quickly waved his command flag, and the third round of rockets was launched again, taking away more than ten large boats. But the rest of the Chapala fleet did not stop, and fled into the mouth of the river leading downstream at the speed of a charge.
Shulot looked at the fleet that was chasing after them, and then at the battlefield where they were still fighting. Then, his eyes stayed on the lake not far away. Many warriors struggled to swim, and many warriors were only slightly injured. The young commander thought about the unknown and complex hydrology downstream, so he made a decision not to divide his troops to pursue.
More than 80 large boats carried half of the Chapala warriors, and more than 300 small boats carried less than 2,000 militiamen. They escaped from the battlefield of blood and fire. In front of them is the lake area of their hometown.
Shulot commanded the fleet again. Black Wolf's flagship gradually moved forward, and the ships on both wings also moved closer to the burning battlefield. His eyes looked through the drifting smoke to the center of the battle again.
In the surrounding flames, Osipai waved his bronze ax and shield, colliding with Anatri's spear. The navy captains of both sides fought fiercely again.
The female warrior stabbed accurately with her spear, and the "crocodile" nobleman was half-calm and used his large shield to accurately resist. Then, Osipai's eyes widened, and he advanced steadily, constantly slashing at the gun barrel with his copper axe. Anatri carefully drew his gun to dodge, and shot backhand from time to time to force his opponent back. The two captains were equally skilled in martial arts and felt helpless for a while.
Seeing that no breakthrough could be made, Osipai roared fiercely.
"Herring, spear!"
Hearing this, Qingyu Kurucha let out a low roar. He turned sideways and resisted a blow from the Mexica warrior's war club, and the leather armor on his chest was cut by "Cila". Then, he held the barrel of the gun half-handed, and quickly thrust out two short spears, piercing deeply into the opponent's side, and screams of pain immediately sounded.
Kurucha turned around without hesitation, not caring about the life or death of his enemy. He took a quick glance, then took two steps forward, held the gun back again, and stabbed the female warrior from the side and behind.
Annatri was forced to retreat quickly, and the personal guards around him came to support, but they were all stabbed to death by Kurucha one after another. Under the joint attack of "crocodile" and "herring", the female warrior was soon at a disadvantage, and was surrounded by danger for a while.
Seeing this, Shulot on the high platform looked solemn. He took out his longbow and drew it, set a bronze arrow on it, and aimed forward with squinted eyes. After a while, when the female warrior was forced to retreat again, the young commander suddenly let go, and a long arrow came like lightning!
Ospai let out a cry of pain, and the bronze ax in his right hand fell down. As he was charging forward, a bronze arrow suddenly struck him. The precise copper arrow passed through the gap in the shield, broke the armor of his right arm, and penetrated deeply into the armor. He had been hit by an arrow in his left arm, which kept him alive for several months, and now he was hit by an arrow in his right arm, and was unable to fight anymore.
Thinking of this, the "Crocodile" noble looked towards the direction of the bow and arrow and roared angrily.
"Ratfish! How dare you sneak attack!"
Seeing that the coach was injured, several surrounding guards immediately stepped forward with shields to cover the coach's withdrawal. Several more warriors formed a spear formation to hold back the vigorous female warrior.
When Kurucha heard the call, he looked around for the enemy who was attacking him, and then he became frightened. He carefully identified the fleeing Chapala fleet, and saw the Mexican boats approaching from both sides, and eagerly returned to the injured coach.
"Captain, the situation is critical, retreat quickly!"
Osipai stared at his beloved general with round eyes.
"How can we retreat! We still have the Chapala fleet and a chance to win!"
"Captain, the Chapala Legion has escaped! This battle is lost!"
The "crocodile" noble stood up in disbelief. He looked directly behind him and saw only countless burning boats and scattered small boats. He looked to the side and ahead, and saw a series of ignited ships, extending a costly escape route. At the mouth of the river at the end of the road is the last shadow of the boat, and the flag of the flying bird can be vaguely seen.
Ospie roared angrily, and then his chest hurt, his throat felt sweet, and he spit out a large mouthful of blood.
"Ratfish! Ah, poof... They are the ones who are going to fight, and they are the ones who escape first... How can crocodiles and ratfish collude in big things!"
"Crocodile" the nobleman was still shouting angrily, his face was blackened by the fireworks. Several screams were heard again not far away. Osipai took a closer look and saw that the haunting female warrior had stabbed several warriors to death one after another, and then charged again.
"Commander, retreat quickly! Take off your marshal's uniform, change to a light boat, and leave the battlefield southward. The river mouth fortress can still be held, I will take the rear for you!"
Kurucha knelt on one knee with a look of death on his face. With a final courtesy, he raised his spear again and charged at Anatri.
Ospie stretched out his painful arm, but failed to catch the departing warrior. Kurucha rushed forward bravely, leaving only his back.
"Herring...you..."
The loyal family warriors looked at each other and quickly took off the "Crocodile" family master's battle clothes. Then they pushed and shoved the commander into a small boat specially prepared for the flagship, and then got on board several rowing guards. The remaining family warriors gave a final salute, saying goodbye to their masters who had been loyal to them for generations, and then returned to fight.
The fire was raging, shrouding the central battlefield in smoke. The sharp conch sound sounded from the big boat with the "Crocodile" flag, twice in succession, conveying two contradictory orders. One sound means the whole army retreats, and one sound means the rear is fighting!
On the battlefield, the remaining Tarasco navy paused upon hearing the sound. The boat and the boat paused for a moment and then made different choices. The loyal family warriors continued to control the boat and fought at the rear even without sacrificing their lives. The conscripted militiamen rowed their boats and fled south without hesitation.
Hundreds of small boats escaping south were like panicked schools of fish, traveling in disorder and intersecting trajectories. In the chaos, a brand new boat sailed quickly into the fleet fleeing south. Under the cover of countless small boats, this small boat disappeared from the eyes of those who cared about it, and it was no longer distinguishable.
On the escaping boat, Osipai's face was ashen, his heart was cut by a knife, and he finally looked towards the battlefield in the north. He saw the centuries-old "crocodile" flag crashing down, the warriors of the three thousand families withered away, and the glorious family that had been inherited for two hundred years was destroyed in one fell swoop! Thinking of this, he couldn't help but get wet in his eyes and shed "crocodile" tears.
At the end of his escape into the southern river mouth, the "Crocodile" noble turned and looked back, remembering the Black Wolf's flag.
"We will meet again!"
Osipai looked sad and swore in a low voice.
Under the flag, the young commander felt something. With a victorious smile on his face, he looked towards the southern mouth of Lake Euriria and the river mouth fortress a hundred miles away.
"We will meet again!"
Shulot was full of ambition and laughed loudly.
The long wind blows across the burning lake, etching all the oaths and jokes in the wind of history, just like this water battle that determines the world!
