"You are welcome, Han Wuye. We are originally Han people born on the same roots. As Daming soldiers, it is our duty to protect you." Mourning put down the bowl of chopsticks, quickly wrote a note, and asked Wang Yongqing’s navigator to immediately take him back to Hachizhang Island. He and the soldiers who have arrived are stationed in the hut of Han Wuye.
The sky just brightened, six ships and two hundred soldiers boarded the Blue Island.
Because he didn't know when the Japanese would retaliate, Mourning decided to take the initiative. As soon as the soldiers came ashore, he arranged for the soldiers to encircle the Japanese samurai on the island.
Mourning left fifty soldiers stationed near the hut of Han Wuye. The remaining one hundred and fifty soldiers, plus the ten soldiers who landed on the island yesterday, all participated in the encirclement and annihilation of the Japanese.
The Japanese are usually concentrated in the Wailunshan area, Mourning led the soldiers, lined up in a neat line, all the way towards Wailunshan.
When there were still more than two miles away from the foothills of Wailun Mountain, they found that there was a group of people on the mountain winding down the path between the mountains.
At this tense moment, there will definitely not be any Han Chinese visiting Wailunshan.
"Pay attention to the enemy and prepare to fight!"
With an order from Mourning, one hundred and sixty soldiers were immediately divided into three teams, the front, middle and back. The soldiers in the front row were all squatting. The pens are as loose as the eyes, and from the gap between the heads and shoulders of the soldiers in the middle row, they stared at the group of uninvited guests on the mountainside.
All the flintlock guns were filled with ammunition, and the muzzle was aimed at the Japanese in front of them.
The crowd on the opposite mountain has come to the foot of the mountain. They are really Japanese, with dark gray kimonos, already very ragged. I don't know if they were scratched by the thorns on the mountain.
The weapons of the Japanese are wooden weapons, either long sticks or slightly shaved wooden swords. Although they didn't have any weapons to match, their eyes still burned with the samurai's unique arrogance and fighting spirit.
These exiled Japanese samurai, under the instigation of their leader, began to go down the mountain at dawn, preparing to avenge the Han people on the island. If they can completely defeat the Han people on the island, they will take the opportunity to control the entire island.
Once their conspiracy succeeded, from then on, instead of curling up on the Wailun Mountain, they occupied the endless plains of the island and made all the Han people on the island their slaves. The men cultivated the land for them, and the women lived for them. baby.
Good wishes and wonderful prospects inspire every Japanese. They trot down the mountain, with an overwhelming attitude, ready to rush to the Han people's living quarters.
But these Japanese still slowed down, and Mourning blocked their way forward.
For more than two thousand years, the quiet life on the island is about to be broken, and a large-scale battle between the Han and the Japanese is about to begin. This is a battle to determine the dominance of Blue Island, and it is also the quiet and inactive Taoist thought on the island , Whether it can be inherited and continued the decisive war.
Once the Han people are defeated, the tranquility of the island will be destroyed by the war, and the Han people on the island will also become slaves to the Japanese, and they will fall into hell from heaven.
Mourning stood at the back of the team, his eyes fixed on the Japanese on the opposite side.
After a brief hesitation, the Japanese accelerated their pace amid the clamor of the leader. They ran towards the Ming army, as if this was a team marathon.
The wooden sticks and wooden swords held high pierced the air in front of you, and the ground was stepped on with a "boom" sound, accompanied by a slight shaking. If it weren’t for seeing the Japanese holding a swarthy wooden stick, I thought it was the Fukushima Earthquake that broke out hundreds of years in advance without warning.
The Ming army was not moving like a mountain.
The three rows of gunmen, like Mourning, stared at the running Japanese samurai, calculating the distance between the two sides in their hearts.
Three hundred steps, the Ming army did not move.
Two hundred steps, the Ming army did not move.
After a hundred steps, the Ming army still did not move.
Having entered the firing range of the flintlock, Mourning still did not give an order to shoot.
These Japanese are all infantry soldiers. No matter how happy they run, they can't compare to a four-legged horse. Mourning is not worried that they will break through the flintlock position.
Mourning’s only worry was that these so-called Japanese warriors turned around and fled in the face of huge casualties. The biggest drawback of flintlocks was that they could not reload when they were chasing, and they could not pursue them when they were reloading.
Every time the Japanese take a step forward, they get closer to the god of death. When they escape in the future, fewer people will slip through the net.
"boom."
"boom."
"boom."
…
When the Japanese ran only eighty steps away from the gunner in the front row, Mourning finally gave the order to shoot. The gunner in the first row pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The dozen or so Japanese samurai who were the fastest, and might have won the marathon medal, suddenly seemed to collapse, one by one, vying to fall at the foot of Wailun Mountain.
The casualties of the companions and the red blood aroused the unyielding fighting spirit of the Japanese samurai. One by one, they clamored for unintelligible language, stepped on the body of their companions, and rushed to the Ming army's flintlock.
The second and third rows of flintlockers did not disappoint these Japanese warriors. Their bullets made the Japanese who happiest to run once again witnessed the invisible murder of flintlockers.
Samurai never fear death and blood, that can only inspire greater fighting spirit until their opponents fall in front of them, or they fall in front of their opponents.
In the samurai dictionary, there is never escape, either victory...celebration, or defeat...death.
The Japanese samurai continued their long-distance running, and the corpses on the ground could not stop their determination. They jumped to avoid the annoying obstacles until they became obstacles for others.
In three rounds of shooting, the Japanese fell seventy to eighty, and the ground was full of Japanese, wounded soldiers or corpses.
In the face of death, in the face of inexplicable death, the samurai spirit finally met its opponent.
The remaining dozens of Japanese samurai, as if stepping on the King Cobra, immediately stopped outside the range of the flintlock rifle, and even their leader stood blankly on the spot.
Changing one's habit is painful, and being forced to change one's habit is a kind of suffering.
I don't know if the Japanese leader is willing to lose the spirit of the samurai at this moment.
Mourning didn’t know the spirit of the samurai, and he didn’t care about the spirit of the Japanese. Seeing that the Japanese stopped out of the flintlock range because of fear, he decided to provoke these desperate Japanese and stimulate their fighting will. If These Japanese can bear it, which means that they have lost the will to fight, and from then on, they will be slaves to the Han.
He whispered a few words to the soldiers next to him. The fifteen soldiers on the left immediately put down their flintlocks and left the original queue. They drew out their knives and rushed to the front of the gunmen.
The Japanese immediately cheered up, thinking that the Ming army would counterattack.
There are only fifteen soldiers, the number is too small, they will not fight close to the Japanese samurai, they find the wounded Japanese, can't help but cut melons and vegetables, let these painful Japanese ascend to bliss.
The injured Japanese were either cut off their abdomen, had their heart pierced, or had their head cut off.
After the fifteen soldiers of the Ming Army completed their mission, they did not stay at all, and swaggered back to their original positions.
The Japanese on the opposite side suddenly seemed to have fried a pot. They stood in place, chopping the air with their wooden sticks and swords, as if each of them was a good hand at hacking, and could avenge their comrades through the air.
The Japanese leader could no longer hold his breath. If he was allowed to humiliate the Ming army in this way, even if he could escape back to Wailunshan, he would be regarded as a leader, and he would be forced to apologize to his subordinates.
He again gave the order to move forward.
The chaotic footsteps, chaotic screams, and even the eyes of the Japanese launched a suicidal charge against the Ming army.
Instead, Mourning calmed down. He stared at the thirty or forty Japanese who rushed on the opposite side. Their hair buns swayed from side to side and began to be a little messy. He wanted to put the Japanese to seventy steps.
If there is another major casualty, the Japanese may have to flee. Once they are allowed to escape into Wailunshan, it will be extremely difficult to catch them again.
The Japanese who rushed to the front fell. This did not eliminate the anger of the Japanese behind, and the pace of the charge did not hesitate.
It wasn't until the Japanese behind them also suffered casualties, even their leader fell under the flintlock of the Ming army.
There were only a dozen Japanese people who had stopped. Seeing that their leaders had fallen, these Japanese immediately turned around and sprinted, which was the Olympic 100-meter final.
The gunmen increased the range of the flintlocks to the maximum, and fell three or four people down. In the end, seven or eight people escaped.
"Group seat, chase or not?" The soldiers were very excited, he had put down his flintlock, and was about to draw out his waist knife.
Mourning said angrily, "What are you chasing after? After catching up with these kendo masters, have you beaten them?"
"Team seat, we are crowded..." The soldiers looked at the Japanese who were gradually going away, looking quite regretful.
"I know there are so many people," Mourning didn't even look at the fugitive Japanese. "Pass the order and harvest the wounded soldiers." He already regarded these Japanese as a dueling army.
"Tuan Zuo..." The soldier was still reluctant, and he kept staring at the Japanese people until they were hidden in the bushes of Wailunshan.
"Hurry up and send the order." Mourning shouted.
The soldier withdrew his awkward gaze, "Yes, regimental seat."
All the Japanese on the ground died, Mourning counted the number, there were 98 corpses in total.
The soldiers still felt regretful: "The group seat is only two to a hundred. If you chase and kill the fugitive Japanese..."
"Good escape..." Mourning muttered to himself.
"Group seat..."
Mourning was taken aback, and then he woke up, "I mean, if we catch up with the Japanese, they must fight for their lives. They are kendo masters, and they are working hard. We will definitely have casualties, maybe. Your life is lost on this blue island, don’t chase the poor!"
"Tuan Zuo, I understand." The soldier responded with a grateful smile, "Tuan Zuo, what about these Japanese corpses?"
"Just put it here for the time being, let Han Wuye see it, and let his people handle it." Mourning had caress in his heart, and felt good, "Go, let's go back in line."