"Chaoluomen, it's no good, call them back!" One of the commanders said bitterly.

"Chaoluomen, give up on them! It's not your fault! A benevolent shaman won't blame you! The other commander also said helplessly. The Tatars, who went up behind, not only did not save their companions, but also fell into them. Such a result is definitely not what they want to see. The gains outweigh the losses!

"No! They must be rescued! Gugler insisted. He couldn't give up on the wounded. It's not that he can't make that determination, it's not that he's really so loving that he doesn't want to give up his subordinates, it's that he can't do that. If he did, it would be a fatal blow to his reputation. He's going to be finished. The last time Sobud abandoned his wounded and fled in disarray, he was almost drowned by the saliva of the tribesmen.

Giving up the wounded at every turn, who wants to fight with such a leader? Who doesn't have the possibility of being injured on a brutal battlefield? If the injured are all abandoned, who will dare to rush forward without fear of death in the future? They can be cruel to the Han people, they can be cruel to the people of other tribes, but they can't be cruel to the people of their own tribe. Nomads are all about strength, and without the support of the tribe, he is not bullshit.

As a result of successive defeats, Sobud's prestige is no longer worth mentioning. There is absolutely no way he can become the heir to the head of the Hellergin tribe. This was the time when he Gugler was rising. The various tribes of the nomads are all kings of the strong, and there is no condemnation of death that must be succeeded by the father and the son. As long as you are strong enough, you can snatch the clan leader over. However, if he Gugler discarded a large number of wounded this time, it is estimated that he will also be finished.

"But, I can't save it!" One of the commanders said bitterly.

"yes, there's no way." The other commander continued to say helplessly.

"When night falls, bring them back!" Gugler had no choice but to say this.

As a result, the Tartars, who had been sent out to try to save their companions, were temporarily abandoned. There was no one behind to answer them. The other Tartars all hid far away, avoiding the range of the Ming army's guns. They had to lie down in the pile of corpses of their companions, carefully hiding their whereabouts. If their whereabouts are revealed, what awaits them is sure to be a series of Minnie bullets. Those crazy Ming soldiers, as long as there is the slightest movement, will shoot desperately. If they accidentally get hit, they will be finished with it.

There was still a long period of time between noon and nightfall, which made the tartars feel very painful. They lay on their stomachs in the pile of corpses, looking up at the sun in the sky from time to time, begging for time to pass quickly, and night to come soon. They feel that the sun in the sky is really moving too slowly. I don't know when night falls. Moreover, whether they can survive until nightfall depends on two questions.

"Alas!" All the Tartars were lamenting that they had never been so embarrassed. When they followed Gugler south, they definitely didn't expect that what was waiting for them would be such a result. The Ming army, which had always been bullied by them before, actually broke out, bullied them upside down, and bullied them to death. Even if they are full of anger, they have no way to vent it. They are completely in a state of passive beating, and they are not able to fight back at all. Such an experience is simply too painful. If they can survive by luck, today's painful experience will never be forgotten for the rest of their lives.

But the pain of these tartars, compared to the wounded tartars, is nothing at all. The painful suffering of those wounded is the most fatal. When they are hit by Mini's bullet, they will bleed profusely from their wounds, and if they do not stop bleeding in time, they will lose too much blood and die. If the internal organs are shattered by the shock wave of the explosive pack, there will be a large amount of internal bleeding. If you can't be rescued, you basically won't survive for an hour.

At the end of the battle, there were still many wounded Tartars on the battlefield wailing, moaning, and screaming. Their intermittent moans of pain came from the battlefield, and both the Tartars and the Ming army could hear them clearly. However, as time passed, the moans of the Tartar wounded became deeper and weaker, and eventually, faded away.

This means that some of the Tartar wounded have completely turned into dead. The other part is either unconscious, unconscious, or dying, and has no strength to moan. If time goes on, it will get even worse.

The most terrible thing is that the Ming army on the opposite side actually shot at the outside every now and then. As long as they find a suspicious target, they can let go of their guns as if they don't need money for ammunition. This kind of behavior made the remaining Tartars feel extremely angry. But there is nothing to be done. Even if they want to take the risk and rush forward, they have to weigh their own pounds. In case you just rushed out and were hit by a projectile, it would be really tragic.

Some white-clothed sergeants who like to aim and shoot seized this rare opportunity to hone their marksmanship wholeheartedly. They don't want to shoot as many projectiles as they can. What they seek is to destroy as many enemies as possible with the fewest projectiles. It would be even better if you could eliminate an enemy with a single shot.

Feng Qingwu is such a soldier. He is an ordinary soldier in Weizhen Fort, and when he was assessed for mounted archery, he was brushed down many times in a row, and he never had the opportunity to join the White Army. It wasn't until the White Army was equipped with the Yue Yue Gong that he was fortunate enough to become a member of the White Army. From the moment he got the Yue Yue Gong, Feng Qingwu felt that he was destined for the Yue Yue Gong. He should be able to use the Moon Gun to destroy more of the Tartars.

In the battle just now, he fired more than fifty rounds of Minnie shells in a row. This kind of speed, in the musket team, should not be slow. However, that kind of desperate pursuit of shooting speed is actually not what Feng Qingwu likes. What he liked was the way he shot an enemy with a single shot after he took a slow and careful aim. He likes to see the projectiles he shoots with his own hands hitting the enemy's chest accurately.

As if he had some innate talent for aiming, Feng Qingwu felt that every time he shot a Mini bullet, he could accurately hit the target. It's a pity that there were too many people shooting at the same time, and he couldn't carefully distinguish where his impact point was. Now, without the massive raids of the Tatar cavalry, he could just practice his marksmanship.

For the Yue Yue Gong in his hand, Feng Qingwu already knows a lot about it. At a distance of 100 meters, the impact point of Mini's bullet is a bit lower to the left, and the deviation is about an inch. At a distance of two hundred meters, the deviation reached three inches. Under normal circumstances, as long as you keep this deviation value in mind and make appropriate adjustments when aiming, you can accurately hit the target.

Suddenly, Feng Qingwu noticed that about fifty zhang in front of him, a tartar was quietly squirming forward. The Tartar was very cunning, and its body was lying on the ground all the time, slowly moving forward. If you don't look closely, you won't notice his presence at all. However, as the Tartar moved forward, it removed a scimitar in front of it. As a result, this detail was noticed by Feng Qingwu. He immediately aimed his gun at the tartar, and after a moment of aiming, he decisively pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The dull sound of gunfire came.

It's a pity that I didn't hit it, it was too far to the left.

Mini hit the Gobi Desert on the left side of the tartar, splashing a lot of dirt.

Feng Qingwu didn't understand, continued to reload, and continued to shoot. The Tartar who had been aimed did not know that he had been targeted, and thought it was a bullet that had fallen by mistake, so he continued to crawl forward slowly, trying to find a better place to hide.

"Bang!"

Moments later, the shots rang out again.

The wriggling tartar finally stopped moving.

Blood, running down his head, stained the sand beside him red.

"Good!"

Feng Qingwu himself gave himself encouragement.

For the first time, he was sure that it was the bullet he had fired himself that killed the Tartar. Instead of shooting desperately, as just now, everyone shot desperately, and no one knew who fired the bullet that hit the enemy. Mini's bullet hit the Tartar in the skull, and the Tartar died instantly.

Feng Qingwu, who was inspired, soon set his sights on the second target. About forty-six zhang away, there was also a tartar lurking. This tartar is even more cunning than the one just now. Each time, he showed his head for a moment, looked around him, and quickly retracted it. Feng Qingwu aimed at him and fired four shots in a row before killing him.

On the battlefield, there are many white-clothed soldiers like Feng Qingwu. Their appearance has made the chaotic battlefield more dangerous and unpredictable. Of course, of course, for the tartars, it is also more painful. As long as there are Tartars who expose the target, what awaits them must be a sudden projectile. Before you know it, a number of Tartars have become corpses on the battlefield.

…… The night is finally late.

With the help of the night, the search party of the Tartars set off.

However, not long after they set off, the trebuchets of the white-clothed army began to throw explosives indiscriminately again. These explosive packs are not used to kill enemies, they are used to light up the battlefield. The flash of the explosion of the explosive pack can expose the figure of the Tartar. In addition, an explosion without a purpose will also cause a certain number of casualties to the Tartars. Fear of being killed by explosive packs, as well as by Minnie bullets, the movement of the Tartars will definitely be greatly restricted. As the temperature continues to drop, there is enough for the tartars.

In fact, Gugler was in great pain. When encountering a pervert like Xu Xingxia, he simply had no way at all. He couldn't imagine why such a pervert didn't even give the Tatars a chance to collect their bodies. However, the other party did just that.

Like Sobud and Paroc at the beginning, Gugler was also very contradictory. Going back to the Hellergin tribe in a gray way is absolutely unacceptable to him. If you go back, it will definitely be embarrassing. Even if you are still alive, it is more uncomfortable than dead. He would rather die in battle than be ridiculed endlessly by others. However, if you continue to fight, how can you tear through the defenses of the Ming army?

"I can't go!"

"I'm going to keep fighting!"

Gugler bit his lip without thinking.

Since you Xu Xingxia don't let me feel better, I won't let you feel better either!

In his mind, it seemed that a terrible thought flashed in an instant: night battle!

Use the cover of night to attack the camp of the White Army! Until you win!

In the dark, the counterattack of the white-clothed sergeants was definitely not as powerful as during the day. The guns and cannons relied on by the white-clothed army were certainly not as lethal in the dark as in the daytime. As long as the Tatars can get lucky enough to enter the position of the Ming army, the situation on the battlefield will be reversed. In hand-to-hand combat at close range, the Ming army is definitely no match for the Tatars!

"Herald!"

"Prepare for a night fight!"

Gugler shouted through gritted teeth.

"What?"

"Night battles?"

When the order was given, the Tatars were shocked.

Guglad actually asked them to launch an assault at night!

Isn't this looking for death? The activities of the Tatar cavalry at night are not flexible at all!

"Night Fight!"

"Attack on foot!"

Gugler's face turned pale, and he said word by word.

"What?"

"Attack on foot?"

For a time, more Tatars were shocked.

For the sake of night fighting, Gugla didn't even want war horses!

It's just crazy! It's horrible! If there is no war horse, is it still called cavalry?

Using cavalry as infantry is a waste of time! Is the attack speed of the foot fast, and the attack speed of the cavalry? Without a fast attack speed, are the Tatars still called Tatars? However, the infantry's flexible surname is much higher than that of a horse, and even if there is an obstacle in front of it, it can easily dodge the past. Even, when under the enemy's strong firepower, you can lie on the ground and crawl forward.

"Attack!"

"Violators! Chop! ”

Gugler was determined to give in, and there was no room for retreat.

Night fighting, indeed, is not the strong point of the Tatars. Abandoning war horses and changing cavalry to infantry is even more taboo. However, Gugler firmly believes that this is the only way he can change his predicament, and this is the only way he can turn the tide and save his own destiny. The Tatars were not good at night battles, and the Ming army was even less good at it! Previous battles have fully proved that the Ming army simply did not have the ability to fight at night.

Gugrad was convinced that as long as a few Tatar warriors, wielding scimitars, rushed into the ranks of the Ming army, the Ming army would immediately collapse. The musketeers of the Ming army relied on the power of firearms, and their hand-to-hand combat ability could not be very strong. The escort team around him is all masters of hand-to-hand combat, and it may be a bit exaggerated to fight one against a hundred, but it is absolutely no problem to fight ten against one.

(To be continued)