Originally, Song Jing also planned to use the walls of Qom City to defend against the Bedouin army for two to three days, but he never imagined that the first day would be so difficult.

The morning was off to a good start, and the Arab tribes of Yemen, unlike their relatives at Mecca in the southwestern peninsula, were not good at sieges, and the swarm of attacks lost hundreds.

But only in the second round of attacks, the almost endless human resource advantage of the Bedouin army was revealed, the forward Bedouins were divided into several teams, or put cold arrows below, or use a horse pole to hook the city and stomp up the city to attack, the dense arrow rain did not stop for a moment, the Fujian crossbowmen could not raise their heads, and the strong attack without counting the casualties made the defenders exhausted.

Man is not a machine, the Arabs can rest in batches, but the defenders cannot, the continuous fighting exhausted the already small guards at the head of the city, as time passed, one by one the gaps were finally opened, and the eastern gate of Qom began to be precarious.

Ulaula shouted incomprehensible timid words, just after being killed, a team of Yemeni tribal cavalry retreated in a hurry, but without waiting for Song Jing to take a breath, he grabbed the horse pole that was still hanging on the city stomping, and another team of Arabs climbed the city wall viciously, and for a while, the short city wall of 100 meters was full of fierce men with scimitars and bloodthirsty roars.

"Kill!"

The greasy sweat of the slow head door continued to flow down the two furrows between the bridge of the nose and the cheeks, making the whole face shiny and panting, and Song Jing himself went into battle himself, roaring and lifting a big stone, and threw it down fiercely.

After exercising on weekdays, Song Jing always felt that he was very strong and powerful, and he felt that the famous army was nothing more than that, but really on the battlefield, he immediately felt the gap between his lack of exercise, and as soon as the stone was taken off his hand, even he felt that the two thick arms were trembling, and in his chest, a heart was beating desperately, eager to jump out of his throat.

Staggered, didn't hide back for the first time, supported the city with his arms Song Jing gasped heavily, who knew that this short moment almost didn't bring him death.

"Die."

The hoarse and hideous Arabic suddenly sounded in his ears, and an ugly Lian, who was also full of sweat and left traces of the desert by wind and frost, suddenly grabbed the horseskin rope and rushed to Song Jing's side, and before he could turn his head in surprise, whistling, the sharp scimitar had already slashed his sweaty neck.

There was a crisp click, blood sprayed, and Song Jing's tired cheeks stiffened there in an instant.

"I just haven't come back yet!"

The steel knife was pulled out from front of his eyes, splashed a few drops of sticky blood on his face, and dragged himself back by the shoulders with a strong force, which made Song Jing wake up, looking at the Yemeni strong man who fell down the city in disbelief with a bloody hole in his chest, and seven or eight strong bows hit the city just now, and the vigorous oil sweat on his head suddenly burst out.

After patting his chest in fear, Song Jing couldn't help but feel ashamed, he and Yao Chong together killed more people than Li Ming's little woman.

"Don't be stunned, don't expose your head to the gap, don't move too much to kill, take your shield, save your life is the first point, wait until the enemy's attack reveals a flaw, and a knife will kill him! Don't forget to conserve your stamina! ”

The best skills are always passed down by the survivors, the little county lord is lively and martial, and she naturally has many masters who have survived the battlefield, and the experience of exchanging these blood for one side shouted at Song Jing, while Li Ming stared more intently at the city stomp that had already hung a few horse poles.

In the next second, another tall Bedouin pounced on him like a fierce man and a zombie, and actually directly pressed the petite Li Ming under him, but unfortunately before he smiled fiercely and the steel knife in his mouth, a look of disbelief appeared on his face.

The shield was slightly tilted to the side, and the heavy Arab reckless corpse fell to the side again, shaking the blood of the dagger in his hand, and Li Ming also shook his wrist at Song Jing demonstrately.

However, at this time, Song Jing's attention was no longer on personal fighting, looking back at the Shura-like battlefield beside him, and a vague confusion haunted his heart.

The entire city wall has been cracked, the steel crossbowmen are desperately smashing with bayonets hanging in front of the crossbow, there is no longer a chance to fire an arrow, the Arabs who settled in agriculture and the nomadic Arabs who drifted away with scimitars fight together, Song Jing watched the community of Qom City help the young man with yellow hair and tendons and flesh in the Min army to fall off the city wall together with another Omani man with yellow teeth and leather armor.

This man, he remembers, is the son of the old imam in the community, Azamu, and the last time the two boys he rescued were his sons, this time, he used himself to return it.

Carrying a stone, the black-skinned Cui Parker was ferocious and couldn't see his usual shy personality at all, desperately grabbing a Bedouin man's head with a bloody head and smashing it, and on the other hand, Yao Chong's little white face was actually strangled by another enemy with a lasso, and he had already rolled his eyes, which was as white as his little white face.

Similarly, a depression of death seemed to be dull in Song Jing's heart, his heart was beating more violently, his ears were buzzing as if he couldn't hear the sound of the world, and a suffocation was constantly released in Song Jing's chest, but he couldn't confide in it anyway.

What am I going to say?

With a kind of confusion, Song Jing's eyes skimmed over the banner of Islam and Bedouin under the city, and seemed to see the smug and gloomy face of the barbarian chieftain under him, and finally, his realization returned to his own city wall, and fell sharply on the vat that he had finally caught.

Finally, the sentence came out.

"Pour the oil!"

In the roaring shout, pushing the oil cylinder fixed on the city trample by the tripod to the outside of the city, Song Jing grabbed the big stone like crazy and smashed it over, with a loud bang, the amber fierce fire oil was sprinkled on the Bedouin soldiers who were still desperately climbing the city, and the faces of these outlaws smoked with the rich smell of oil turned pale.

Song Jing's movements were like a demonstration, whether he heard it or not, the extremely tired Confucian soldiers also pushed the oil canister out, and some threw it directly under the corner of the city, without waiting for those frightened Yemenis, the Omanis retreated, and the red-hot briquettes had been dumped fiercely.

"Ahhh!!hhh In the scream, the entire city wall burned into a sea of fire, the ropes made of horseskin and cowhide were broken, and the nomadic cavalry who burned into flames ran back with screams, some ran and ran directly to the ground and kept twitching, and some of the tenacious ones ran back to their own military formations and lit the fire to their teammates.

Everywhere there was pitch black smoke and billowing bodies.

"Damn it!" Seeing that the city wall was about to be taken down, and there was such an accident, Saladin angrily smashed the precious silver wine jug of Persia beside him to the ground.

Under the city, hundreds of enemies were killed in the fire, but no one in the city was happy, everyone was exhausted and panting, and some even fell directly in a pool of blood, and no longer had the strength to stand up.

The corpses were mixed with the living, the boundaries between life and death seemed to be blurred, there was a deep scar on the neck, Yao Chong was also tired and leaned on the city stomping, but leaning on it, Yao Chong suddenly raised his head, raised his head under the surprised gaze of others, and looked up to the sky and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

was already tired and about to lie down, Li Ming was not angry and rolled his eyes.

Laughing out of breath, Yao Chongqing pointed to the bottom and explained with a breathless neck.

"I have long heard of his Saladin's name, crisscrossing the south and east of the desert, and even Li Jingye, the secretary of the military department, was planted in his hands, and now, he personally raised tens of thousands of soldiers, and I Yao Chong is a nobody, how can he be, but he can make him a hero, he can only stare at the city wall, listening to us laugh helplessly, isn't this worth my laughter?"

"No matter what the outcome of this battle is, the world should remember that I, Yao Chong, stopped the Arabs, as well as our Confucian soldiers, and the Taixue Army, which had just been established for less than a year, dared to face him Saladin and make him deflated! We're famous all over the world, hahahaha! ”

"It's not productive." Rolling his eyes again in a strange way, Li Ming made a grimace and hummed, while Song Jing nodded thoughtfully. ，

In the hearty laughter, the nearby Min army couldn't help but reveal a sense of pride and heart, and a nervous laughter sounded one after another, and it was really as Yao Chong said, Saladin stared at himself, listening to this hero, and even saw that this hero was angry and whipped several times to deflat, and the Confucian soldiers who watched laughed more happily.

The fear and fatigue brought by the bitter battle have dissipated a lot unconsciously.

Although the morale recovered a little, but the loss was true, the people hurriedly carried the two bamboo poles to transport the wounded soldiers, at this time there was no human rights, the Arab wounded soldiers and corpses were thrown directly down the city wall.

Around this, the corpses of the Min army were still piled up, attracting swarms of flies, and a pair of empty eyes looked at the sky.

All the houses near the city wall were requisitioned, and the five Red Gourd team doctors were busy sweating profusely, and the painful moans of the wounded soldiers were still heard far away.

All this frightened the person hiding by the city gate, looking at the pile of corpses in fear, and Ma Shiyong's face was extremely pale.

The fire under the city had long been extinguished, but the fear brought by the flames had caused the Bedouins to be confused for a while, and a few pillars of incense had only reorganized the attacking team, and in Saladin's face like a pig's liver, the captured and trembling Japanese had crowded to the front again, shouting in unpleasant Chinese.

"The caliph has an order, those who surrender the city, the emir, and the reward of a thousand gold!"

"Hmph, just a barbarian, you still want my Fujian people to bend their waists."

In the cave of the city gate, the two Confucian soldiers carrying spears pouted their lips with disdain and looked at them with disdain, and at this time, a staggering and lost soul like a zombie-like figure swayed in.

"Brother Ma."

"Hey, Brother Ma, what are you doing?"

In the midst of the screams, a thick stream of blood sprayed on the gates.

In front of the gate, the locust-like Bedouins once again put on several sharp attack formations, their faces sank like water, Saladin, the hero, held his scepter high in annoyance, and Song Jing, Yao Chong, Li Ming and others on the city gate also tensed their nerves.

At this moment when the air was about to condense, the creaking sound of the gate was particularly abrupt, and under the incredulous gaze of more than 100,000 people of the two armies, the closed gate of Qom City opened in a daze.