The Ottoman prime minister, Koplulu, stared at the Ottoman soldiers who fell one after another on the battlefield with his binoculars.

The beard on his lips was trembling slightly, and he didn't know if it was the wind blowing or because the muscles of his face were trembling.

"The devil, this is the devil."

He couldn't comprehend the Gatling gun that was constantly spewing fire, sweeping across the soldiers in front of him like an autumn wind. After all, it was still the middle of the seventeenth century, and before the advent of Li Zhi, warriors in Europe and Central Asia were still using arquebuses, swords, bows and arrows.

However, at this time, Li Zhi brought the rotary tube machine gun to this era.

Koplulu had a sense of panic that his worldview had been impacted. He was fifty-three years old, and he thought he was a battle-hardened veteran who could fully grasp the situation on the battlefield. However, when he saw the Gatling gun with the barrel spinning, Koplulu suddenly felt that he was so ignorant.

In front of Li Zhi's army, in front of the war that was completely changed by Li Zhi, it can be said that he knows nothing.

After a few seconds of silence, he put down his binoculars in panic and said in a panic: "Shah, rushing up like this is sending you to death!" “

Maharaja Bardeep of India also inhaled heavily, his chest rising and falling from the rapid breathing. His teeth rattled from the falling Indian soldiers in the telescope, and he was in a state of extreme tension.

He knelt down in front of Abbas II and shouted, "Shah, that fire-breathing gun is so terrible that we will die in vain if we rush up like this." “

Abbas II looked at Bardeep on the ground with some alarm, and then he looked up at the battlefield to the south.

His fists tightened and loosened, loosened and tightened, and finally clenched tightly.

"You can only rush! Shoot while rushing. If you retreat, you will collapse. “

He roared angrily: "Blow the trumpet, speed up the charge!" Rush up and blow up those tanks! “

When the surrounding Central Asian nobles heard Abbas II's words, their faces turned pale for a while.

But no one dared to disobey Abbas II's orders, and the flags and trumpets urging the army to speed up the charge were soon sounded.

On the battlefield, the Central Asian fighters who fell in front of the machine guns like dominoes shouted for kill, and launched a more fierce charge with various rifles.

They tried to shoot infantry fighting vehicles while charging. However, the thick armor of the infantry fighting vehicle was not afraid of the bombardment of the Mini rifle, and at most the Mini bullets made a few shallow marks on the body.

The only hope for victory for the Central Asian warriors was to rush to the infantry fighting vehicle and blow it up with gunpowder.

But that hope is so slim.

Boss Wei stuck half of his head out of front of the chariot, his eyes narrowing slightly from the flames of the Gatling gun.

The scene of the massacre on the battlefield made his mouth open wide.

The chariot was in a circle, and its circumference was only seven or eight miles, and at that distance six hundred heavy machine guns were strafing at a rate of one hundred and thirty rounds per minute. Not counting the missed bullets, for any Indian coalition soldier in the front row, six or seven seconds of running forward, a bullet would hit him.

And six or seven seconds is only twenty meters for the infantry with muskets.

So the situation on the battlefield was that the Central Asian soldiers who were strafed by the machine guns fell one after another like sandbags under the muzzle of the clattering machine guns.

If the damage caused by rifle fire is point-fired, the volley damage caused by machine guns is even more frightening. The barrels of the Gatling guns on the infantry fighting vehicles swayed from side to side as they swirled, and wherever the bullets rained, the soldiers of the Indian coalition were shot in rows.

As soon as the machine gun swept away, the bullets exploded a series of blood sprays on a field of soldiers, which looked like a blood line that could be connected.

The attempts of the Indian coalition forces to accelerate their rush to the front of the infantry fighting vehicles, in the face of epoch-making weapons, can only be an absurd fantasy.

Boss Wei's eyes widened as he watched the Gatling gun devastate on the battlefield, and his eyes were about to pop out. He saw a tall Central Asian soldier holding a crescent moon banner sprinting forward, and then he saw only a flash of red stuff, and the tall soldier was shot, and one staggered forward.

Then the soldier operating the machine gun apparently shot crooked, allowing the machine gun's firing line to sweep to the ground. Like a cannon, the ground around this Central Asian warrior was constantly bursting into a line because of the machine-gun bullets. Then, after a while, the firing line was pulled back onto the body of the Indian coalition soldier, and next to the Central Asian soldier, a brown-skinned Indian soldier was shot in the chest and broke blood.

Before Boss Wei could see the Indian soldier fall to the ground, the two Ottoman soldiers with mini rifles to the right were also shot in the body. One bloomed in the head, the other was shot in the thigh, and blood splattered everywhere.

Next is a Persian soldier with an arquebus.

Then Boss Wei saw that the firing point of the machine gun continued to sweep to the right, and more enemy soldiers on the right fell to the ground. It felt like an invisible Grim Reaper slashing across the Indian coalition front with a scythe, and blood flew everywhere it went.

Six hundred Gatlings were breathing fire incessantly, and the same scene was playing out over the battlefield.

With 600 machine guns, the auxiliary soldiers who followed the infantry fighting vehicles became complete spectators. All you have to do is watch the fire-breathing Gatling perform.

Li Laosi stood on the high ground in the distance, and was also stunned by the destruction of the infantry fighting vehicle.

After all, Li Laosi had only seen a few machine-gun shooting performances on the training ground, and he had never actually seen a machine-gun shooting of real soldiers. Li Laosi knew that the scene of machine gun fire would be very bloody, but he didn't expect that it would be such a massacre in the end.

Six hundred machine guns completely dominated the battlefield.

The machine gunner in the tank pulls the machine gun back and forth, pouring bullets into every corner of the front. The soldiers of the Indian coalition rushed upward, were swept by machine guns, and fell line by line, and then the people behind rushed again, and then they were shot down by the rain of bullets swept back, and fell again piece by piece.

Li Dingguo, who was standing on the side, was even more stunned, holding the telescope without saying a word, staring at the bloody scene on the battlefield.

It was the most efficient massacre in human history.

In Li Dingguo's telescope, the corpses of the Indian coalition army were produced one by one, staggering on the battlefield. Even blocked the footsteps of the soldiers behind.

Li Dingguo suddenly saw an infantry fighting vehicle stop firing, the door was slammed open, and a machine gunner rushed to the door and vomited out of the car.

All the food that was eaten in the stomach in the morning and at noon was vomited.

Such a massacre was so brutal that even the high-nosed and deep-eyed Central Asians and Indians on the other side made the soldiers who operated the machine guns to kill people feel sick.