The third volume sailed in the Ming Dynasty

There was a muffled sound, and the child was knocked out by the huge momentum of the war horse, and the blood spurted out of his mouth and nose, and he rolled out two laps before stopping.

Herod –

As soon as the reins in his hand were pulled, the war horse neighed, stood up proudly, and Zhang Songrong, who was wearing chain mail on horseback, slashed through the rushing tartar with a knife, and even took the lead in slashing it horizontally.

Pillars of blood soared into the sky, and the corpses rolled on the ground and crashed into the burning wooden house, countless sparks and scorched wood splashed.

Poof-

The front hooves of the war horse fell to the ground, trampling the head of a long-dead child like a cracked watermelon, and flowing out of white brains.

This scene, the child's unscathed mother saw in her eyes, screamed, and suddenly fainted and fell to the ground.

Zhang Songrong immediately slashed his sword, and roared like thunder: "Quick battle!" ”

Behind him, the shouts of fighting suddenly burst out, hundreds of figures rushed over, and the figures of the Ming soldiers made a sound of response, like a rolling wave, and roared loudly: "Kill-"

In the dazzling light of the fire, the man's body fell, the old man fell, and then the child...... The woman left some.

The tent also collapsed in the fire, and the Ming soldiers, like fierce hungry wolves, tore apart the defenseless tribe and ate them.

The smell of burnt smell came from the breeze blowing through the grass, the sun rose in the sky, and the birds circled in fright and turned and flew away.

Boom Boom –

The horse's hooves galloped, the figures of hundreds of war horses stepped across the yellowing grassland, and the rabbits that were gnawing on the grass hurriedly turned over and ran back, and the moment they got into the hole, the horse's hooves had already stepped over it.

"Get ready to fight, don't let one go."

Li Xiang pulled out his waist knife viciously, as if he was a fierce beast to choose a person to bite, and many days of fighting had aroused the ferocity in his bones.

"Protect the Bannerman."

The horse's head went around and around, and Atumu was already covered in blood, both his own and the blood of the Ming soldiers who wanted to intercept them.

Finally escaped, and when he saw that there was another obstacle, he wiped the blood and roared.

However, in the next second, his scalp was numb and he turned around to drive the knife, and with a loud bang, a big knife slashed up, and sparks splashed, and the huge force made his wrists, which were already exhausted, numb, and almost fell off the horse.

In a trance, the other party said "Come again!" The big knife cut off the horse's legs, the flesh and bones splashed with the blade, and the war horse let out a terrible roar, pounced forward, and fell to the ground with a bang.

Atumu also jumped off his horse at the same time, and felt the killing intent attack. Almost reflexively, the knife was raised again, the golden sound sounded again, the moment the arm was shaken, and a big foot was kicked straight in the chest.

In a split second, his hand loosened, and the broadsword pressing on his blade deflected, and the back of the knife slammed into Atumu's head.

Blood poured out in an instant, blurring his vision, and the chaotic people around him became shadowy, and he gradually couldn't see clearly.

After stumbling a few steps, his body finally fell backwards, hiding a bag of gold and silver jewelry in his arms and spilling blood in the dirt.

He turned his head to look at the spilled gold, and his arm swept weakly, trying to bring them together.

Then, a burly figure approached, and the big foot was raised and stepped on the arm, Li Xiang held the knife in both hands, leaned over to look at the tartar that had been dying, and snorted, "This is the Han people." ”

In the next second, it slashed down. The bloody skull bounced off its shoulders and rolled on the low grass.

In the last sight, I saw that the clansmen kept falling, and occasionally Ming soldiers were killed, but after all, there were a few. And everyone is desperately trying to kill each other in order to survive.

It's useless, people are waiting for work and there are many people, and the Durhan flag is over.

In the last moment of confusion, I heard the white-haired banner lord Balajur in the middle wailing loudly, why?

The battle was soon over, and more than 100 people who had escaped fell to the ground, and the soldiers were familiarly repairing the battlefield to prevent anyone from playing dead, leaving Balajur alone.

"How can the people of the Han family let Hu Er bully and kill at will, don't you know that the Han people will only decline for a while, and will not decline for a lifetime. The self-brewed bitter wine is drunk by yourself, and now it is just interest. ”

Whether he understood it or not, Qin Haoming scolded loudly under the translation of the slaves around him who knew Mongolian.

"Interest?"

After listening to the slave's translation, Balajur's muddy tears fell, when did the army of the Ming Dynasty have such courage and strength?

But no matter what, there is no doubt that their Durhan banner will be exterminated.

"Deal with this old guy, the others will continue to search, and no one will be left behind."

The hustle and bustle ahead is over, and that means the battle is over. A residual flag owner has no point in interrogation, and it is also a burden to keep it.

Before Qin Haoming jumped on the horse, he wiped a neck-cutting gesture at Li Xiang.

"Everyone immediately let the horses rest, clean the battlefield, and retrieve the arrows ......"

The heralds rode around the battlefield of Shurachang and issued orders one by one.

The dirt under his feet, a foot of blood-colored footprints. The tall black horse walked slowly into the place with its hooves. The horse's hooves stopped, sinking into the already soft earth, squeezing out a dark red liquid.

A few corpses floated in the waterhole on the edge of the grassland, and the crimson color of the water rose and fell as the water rippled on the mud and sand on the shore, seeping into the roots of the thatch.

The smell of blood filled the air, and several seriously injured people could not support it, and the corpses were carried away by the Ming soldiers, causing everyone to be sad.

It's just that the spear in his hand stabbed the Tartar corpse harder and harder, and scolded with tears in his eyes, "Dog's Tartar." ”

In the field of vision, the figure on the war horse had already pulled the bowstring, and in the pile of corpses, a Tartar woman with a severed arm and not dead groaned in pain.

Struggling to sit up, she was pinned to her chest by an arrow, and then she hung her head weakly, dead.

This is the cavalry that Zhang Songrong trained this year, but looking at his calm and relaxed style now, who believes that he is a recruit?

Or are they adaptable!

Qin Haoming sighed in his heart, endured the discomfort in his heart, and walked forward slowly, but his face was silent.

There is no way, after all, he is a soldier in peacetime, and he has never seen such a Shura hell.

For him, the corpse of an adult strong man is okay. But the old man's white hair, the severed limbs and severed arms of children, the heads of women rolling around, and even pregnant women......

This is war, there are no soldiers, no civilians, only killing.

Qin Haoming thought about the three slaughters in Jiading, the ten days in Yangzhou, and the filling of the two lakes in order to harden his heart.

If you don't want to be integrated, then you can only take the initiative to integrate him.

Behind the simple integration of a single ethnic group, there is a lot of bloody hatred and fighting.

The same race can still kill you to the death, let alone a different race?

What a terrible word.