The first night finally came down in everyone's expectations. Although the rain still showed no signs of diminishing, but because each other worried about the ambush in the shadows, both ushered in a short intermission. One day's melee overstretched everyone's physical strength. Now people relax and feel sore and numb. The small wounds are tingling faintly. The battle clothes on their bodies are soaked in heavy rain and blood, and they are stealing bit by bit. Precious body temperature, lack of drinking water, lack of dry food, lack of medicine, lack of confidence. The soldiers stepped tiredly in an attempt to find a place to hide, eager to wring out the clothes on their bodies, drink a sip of hot water, and treat the wounds all over their bodies. It is absolutely impossible to make a fire, not to mention that you can't find dry wood to make a fire. The flames in the dark night can be seen a few kilometers away. Maybe you just caught the fire and fell into a circle of a large number of enemies. In fact, with the advent of darkness, the silence of the Hundred Thousand Mountains enveloped the entire battlefield, without a trace of suspicious sound, let alone anyone around.
The disciples of the rivers and lakes in twos and threes gathered in small piles, carefully watching the movements around them, taking turns using this precious night to recover their strength. Originally, every disciple was carrying three-day rations and some necessary first aid supplies. Unfortunately, during the daytime melee, most people lost their equipment. Only if they survived can they worry about eating and resting, they discarded these equipment. , Undoubtedly gave them one more hope of survival on the battlefield.
Most Wudang disciples played the role of back-hand defense in the melee. They were not good at personal advances. Coordination with each other was their tactical habit. Therefore, for them, not only did they ensure a relatively complete system, but also included them. The supplies are still very complete.
A disciple wearing a Wudang Taoist robe carefully opened the compressed biscuit in his hand, held it in both hands, and handed it to the Shuomen Knife on the side. In today's battle, the two of them cooperated fairly well. They attacked and defended, advancing and retreating. Freely. There are many such combinations. The ever-changing situation on the battlefield has made everyone abandon the sect. Perhaps the team with you is a killer, a doctor, a thief, or even a master of hidden weapons. You have to think about how to use others. He and his own abilities survived, and when the day's battle was over, although there was no time to say a few words, each other had become brothers who had fallen in love with each other.
Suomen Swordsman took the precious ration carefully, put it into his mouth and chewed it carefully, and then gave the other side a grateful look. The melee during the day left him with bone scars everywhere. He hadn't had time to deal with it. Now he found a dry cave and had a chance to sew up the wound.
Clench your teeth, use a dagger to gently trim off the rotten flesh, sprinkle with styptic powder, take some antibiotics if possible, and then suture the wound with a needle. After doing all this, the Sorcerer’s forehead was already oozing sweat, and the Wudang disciple next to him had already watched it. How could there be such a foolish guy who stitched up the wound by himself, but it was still Under such poor sanitary conditions.
The Wudang disciple couldn't help but think of the battle during the day. He always stood behind this guy with a long sword in his hand, and then guarded the attack from behind. His task was not onerous, and the number of shots in a day was counted, and there was nothing on him. He was seriously injured, except for a shallow cut in his right arm, but it was really insignificant compared to the guy in Suomen.
Although the disciple Sormen shivered from the cold, he resolutely took off his soaked clothes and pants. The wet clothes would take away the body temperature, especially when there was too much blood loss. This is especially important. There are dozens of hideous scars all over the back of this knife man. The whole person seems to be broken and stitched up. Unfortunately, the stitching is not fine, and many places are uneven, looking like weird stitching monsters.
The Wudang disciple was quite embarrassed to take off his jacket and trousers, wring out the water and set aside. He didn't have so many "medals" on his body. The only scar was that he was stabbed by his junior while practicing sword, and the stabbing was very shallow, only one inch.
"It can be seen that you have experienced a lot of battles." The Wudang disciple praised heartily: "Seeing your swordsmanship in the daytime is light and elegant, you should have worked hard." Where did he know, the swordsman of Suomen? Most of them are self-taught, perhaps a broken book of swordsmanship, or perhaps the instinct to fight on the battlefield. Very few disciples from a family will join Suomen as a professional killer.
"Counting this time, it should be the forty-seventh time I was born and died." Suomen Swordsman's voice was still a little trembling, and the sharp pain like a torn wound made him dizzy, so he could only support the rock wall and sit slowly. Next, the knife is at hand. "The swordsmen of Suomen rarely have inheritance, that is to say, many people are like me, who have the ability to fight on the battlefield."
"I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to walk into this cave alive without you today." Wudang disciple's tone was very calm, perhaps because of the fight during the day, the matter of life and death suddenly became less frightening, perhaps true. At that moment, he could face it calmly.
"Well, your skill is good, and your foundation is better than me." Suomen Swordsman glanced at this polite Wudang disciple. He was white and clean, not bad in physique, and excellent in basic skills. "But you don't have the aura to break the boat. The most important thing on the battlefield is the aura. If you lose your aura, you will lose half of the battle. But don't worry, it's good to see blood a few times." Suomen Swordsman stretched out. Haunted the injured right hand, smiled friendly, but it was a bit ugly to laugh because of the pain, "Get to know, Suomen's silver knife broke the army."
"Gu Shuning of Wudang Sect." The Wudang disciple hurriedly stretched out his right hand and held it tightly, "Please advise me on the battlefield." Compared with myself, a recruit who "has never seen blood", there are obviously more soldiers who have killed more than a hundred people. Destructive power.
"I hope we can all go back alive." Po Jun suddenly felt a little frustrated. What if he is alive today? What about tomorrow, what about the day after tomorrow? Can't find a large force, and fight a war of attrition with a small group of enemies. The ghost knows which time he stepped on the **** and was shot by the cold arrow.
"Definitely." Wudang disciples have almost worshipped trust in Dai Junchou. He is their legend and the hope of the whole world. "Trust me, our chief must also be thinking of a way, maybe the call to assemble the team is coming soon." After he said that, he glanced at the pouring rain outside the cave, and seemed to be a little suspicious of his own words, "Why don't you sleep for a while? , I'm not tired yet, watch it for you."
"Then I will trouble you." Breaking the army really doesn't have the strength to be polite, and I don't know what kind of enemies will be encountered in tomorrow's fight. It is indeed urgent to take time to rest. At least, I have to take this Wudang little guy out.