Chapter 181: The fortress is attacked, and corpses are raining down.

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Following an extremely sharp conch horn, on every wall, warriors and militiamen suddenly leaned out and fiercely shot arrows of death. They half-drawn their new longbows and shot sharp copper arrows, piercing through the running warriors.

Cotton armor. They drew traditional single wooden bows and released fanged bone arrows, piercing the heads and faces of the stagnant warriors.

Below the city, Giowa held his shield high and looked up. Then, his pupils shrank, and he squatted down subconsciously, raising the shield above his head. Thousands of Tarasco archers fired arrows at the same time, and a missile suddenly shot out from the top of the city.

Waves of deadly arrows roared through the air. The shield in Giowa's hand rang repeatedly, and then there was a clear sting on his shoulder, which showed that he had obviously been hit by an arrow. Several of his guards rolled to the ground like gourds.

, screamed and covered his head and face, struggled again and was shot into a hedgehog.

Almost at the same moment, hundreds of Tarasco militiamen half stood up and shouted. They raised their arms, took aim briefly, and then threw arm-length pointed wooden spears and fist-sized round spears under the city wall.

The stone and wooden spears were condescending, accompanied by the dull sound of the wind, mercilessly penetrated into the bodies of the warriors, pinning them to the ground. The thick stones continued to accelerate, and with irresistible force, they slammed into the warriors.

On the leather helmet, the man and the helmet were knocked down together.

Giowa crouched on the ground, hiding his body directly behind the big shield, and no longer cared about watching the battle. The violent collision sound "bang bang" came, and the screams of the personal guards were heard endlessly, and quickly and faintly. At this moment

In the siege battle, the leather armor on his body seemed so weak. Even for a strong warrior, death can come at any time, and it only takes an instant to wither.

Not far away, Shulot could see more clearly for a moment. This wave of volleys that had been prepared for a long time cleared a blank in an instant and nailed hundreds of Otomi warriors!

The young commander waved the flag quickly, and the same sharp conch sound sounded, and more than a thousand Mexica crossbowmen also shot arrows at the top of the city. The arrows and crossbow bolts were like a raging torrent, washing away the weeds at the top of the city in a moment.

fall.

A capable warrior of Tarasco held a long bow in his hand and had a fierce look on his face. From a distance of forty steps, he accurately shot an arrow into the cheek of the warrior Otopan, and immediately became the target of the archers in the city. The warrior was capable.

The warrior was about to nock an arrow again, but he paused suddenly, then weakly let go of his hand, letting the bronze arrow fall from his hand.

A bone arrow penetrated from his unprotected chin, and with a "puff" sound resounding from the flesh and blood, it penetrated his mouth at an angle. The unbearable pain was felt instantly. The warrior did not die immediately, but was still trying in vain.

He wanted to open his mouth. Then, another crossbow bolt whizzed over and penetrated the warrior's chest. He instantly knelt down, his hands still struggling until an extremely precise arrow pierced his eye and penetrated two inches.

, he finally gained the final relief and fell backward on the city wall.

Four or five Tarasco militia archers were very close. Wearing cloth, they squeezed into the narrow gaps in their shields and fired arrows at the same time, shouting to shoot down the enemy. More than twenty feather arrows came with the shout,

Most of them were blocked by shields, causing a constant "bang bang" sound.

Only four or five long arrows penetrated through different gaps, and then penetrated the weak body without stopping. The long arrows at close range were so powerful that they were not blocked by cloth and flesh, and passed directly through the body, "

"Chichi" the militiamen were strung together, and the blood immediately mingled. The militiamen screamed in pain and struggled hard, but they could not be separated. They just tore the wounds, bleeding more bright red, and then solidified into a group of still sculptures

.

There was also a brave Tarasco militiaman who raised his right arm and threw a powerful short spear. As soon as the short spear was released, the powerful crossbow arrow was thrown into his exposed chest vitals, and he rushed towards the city wall without saying a word.

He fell down. At the last moment of his life, he only saw his short spear hitting the target and piercing into an Ottopan warrior who was charging forward. The opponent staggered for two steps and then fell down, his face buried in the soil.

.Then, the brave militiamen also smashed away the dust, and they died silently together, two steps away from the samurai who fell to the ground with his spear, head to head.

Xiulote had no expression on his face and nodded slightly. The Tarascans who were shooting could not be completely covered. This wave of arrows at close range also took away nearly a hundred defenders. The firepower projected from the top of the city was stagnant, and the archers

They hid again. They shot intermittently towards the city from the gap between the wooden sign and the earthen platform, and their accuracy was greatly weakened.

The fierce drum beat never stopped, and Otopan's warriors roared and charged, and finally arrived at the top of the city. A dozen warriors desperately set up a heavy wooden ladder and climbed up to the bluestone city wall.

Climb the city.

The Tarascans on the city head poked their heads out again. Under the strong urging of the supervising warriors, the militiamen suddenly threw clay pots of different sizes, and then threw down heavy wood and stones. The pottery pots smashed down the city head,

It exploded suddenly, emitting a piece of gray powder. The Otopan warriors below the city burst out with a scream that was not like a human voice. They covered their eyes with their hands and rolled on the ground in pain. This is the common raw and hydrated lime in volcanic areas.

, has been used in construction and agricultural production for many years.

The warriors below the city were blind to what was happening, and they let go of their hands and ran around in confusion. The wooden ladder tilted and fell to the ground, directly crushing the two warriors. The wood and stones at the top of the city also fell with a "bang", knocking several warriors to the ground.

It smashed into a ball on the ground, and the ground was quickly dyed red and gray.

Witnessing this tragic scene, the nearby archers quickly adjusted and began to give priority to shooting the militiamen throwing clay pots. On the city wall, a Tarasco militiaman shouted the name of God fanatically, raised the clay pot in his hand, and

When he was about to smash down, several feather arrows came with a "whisper", hitting him from top to bottom. The militiaman suddenly leaned back and could no longer lift the clay pot containing lime, and the clay pot fell silently.

.

Behind him, several militiamen from the same village turned pale with fright. They pushed behind him without hesitation. The fanatical militiamen took the slipped clay pot and fell from a height of six meters together, and then "bang bang" on the ground.

" bloomed, bringing out a cloud of white mist that scattered in all directions. Then shrill screams sounded outside the city, but they were several Ottopan warriors who were suddenly blinded.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! The militiamen in the city just breathed a sigh of relief when the whistling arrows struck again, nailing most of the militiamen to death. Only one person managed to escape.

The militiamen were so frightened that they lay motionless in a pool of blood at the top of the city, unwilling to get up to defend the city. When the warrior supervising the battle saw the gap, he waved his bronze spear and drove the next group of militiamen onto the city. Then, without hesitation, he

An order was given to throw the last militiaman down the city along with the corpses of his fellow villagers. Soon, there were final screams under the city.

The crossbowmen of the earth platform and the shield chariot suppressed it hard, and the archers of the nest chariot cleared the spots. Soon, there were several chaotic sections of city wall on the left side of the south city. Hundreds of Ottopan warriors finally set up stable wooden ladders, and from these chaotic walls

Climbing up the gap. In just a dozen breaths, dozens of warriors climbed to the top of the city, shouting excitedly. They waved their shields, resisted the thrusting bronze spears, then struck out their war clubs, and joined the large group of Tarasco militiamen.

Fighting together.

Shulot's eyes lit up with anticipation. He waved the command flag, and the tall and strong temple guards lined up, ready to go to support at any time. Then, the crossbowmen on the high platform received instructions one after another to attack the two walls of the city.

Concentrate the fire on the side and kill a group of militiamen.

On the top of the wall, a Tlaxcalan militiaman was suddenly shot in the head by an arrow and died on his back. The Tlaxcalan wooden bow in his hand fell to the side. Two steps away, the young militiaman Vezziti's eyes were red, and he

He was about to reach out for the wooden bow. Then there was a "bang" sound, and he was hit hard on the forehead, suddenly interrupting his movement.

"Stupid wood! Don't take that wooden bow, you will die if you take it!"

The accent of his hometown came from behind Weziti, waking him up from the urge to fight. The young militiaman squatted and turned around, and saw the familiar old militiaman Chihuaco. The old militiaman also squatted, pushing a piece of chest in his hand

A big stone. He carried a thick wooden shield on his head and tied it tightly to his chin with a sisal rope, just like a river turtle with a shell.

"Uncle, where did you get this shield? Isn't there a gentleman's helmet over there?"

Wezti shook his dizzy head and took a closer look at Chihuaco's appearance. Last time, the old militiamen led them to escape from the battlefield. They rowed for three days and were one step ahead of the marshal.

Returned to the fortress. From then on, the old militiaman became the leader in everyone's mind, a convincing old uncle.

Fierce sounds of fighting filled the sky, and "whooshing" arrows passed through his head. Chihuaco shuddered, looked around, and didn't see the samurai master. Then he whispered.

"Don't wear the old man's helmet or the old man's leather armor. The Mexicans will just stare at that outfit and shoot! You can find a shield or a clay pot to put it on. Then come with me and squat down.

Push the stone down!"

Weziti vaguely understood something. He bent down, found an empty clay pot and put it on his head, and then pushed the stone with the old militiaman.

Soon, the supporting warriors looked nervous and climbed to the top of the city with spears. They hurried past and rushed towards the city wall near the river, loudly driving away the militiamen along the way. The whistling arrows under the city also

Shoot straight towards the city top over there, bringing down groups of defenders from time to time.

Chihuaco held the stone in his hand and looked carefully in his eyes.

He looked at the brutal fighting not far away. Dozens of lean warriors rushed to the top of the city and fought with the supporting men. From time to time, someone fell to the ground screaming in pain, or fell outside the city, or fell to the ground.

Inside the city, it was like there was a fire making soup. The gentlemen on both sides were like firewood thrown in, boiling the city top continuously, causing blood to splash like boiling soup.

The old militiaman shuddered again. He took out the blood-stained herbal medicine bag and took two strong breaths. The smell of the medicine in the medicine bag became weaker and weaker, and the smell of blood became much stronger. But somehow, this action made him

clam down.

When the old militiaman came to his senses, he saw that Wezziti was already one step ahead of him and was about to push the big stone off the city wall. He was so angry that he grabbed the young militiaman's pants and pulled him to the ground.

"Vezti, come back here! Are you stupid?! Do you really want to throw this big stone down? Open your eyes and take a look. This is the only big stone nearby. After pushing it down, the gentlemen will have to force it.

I'm shooting arrows and throwing spears while you're here...Hurry up and push me back!"

The young militiaman was stunned for a moment. He looked around, and there was a lot of fighting all around. The old men were passing by in a hurry, and no one paid attention to it. Then, he obediently pushed the big stone back, and together with the old militiaman, they

An action of squatting and pushing a stone.

"Uncle, the Mexicans are very fierce today. Do you think we can hold on?"

Amid the brutal fighting on the city walls, the old militiaman crouched down and made gestures while looking around at the situation. He answered casually.

"The people who are coming are all the new young gentlemen. The hundreds of old gentlemen behind have not come. They are all waiting under the city wall. Today's situation is estimated to be able to be maintained. But looking at the ferocious momentum of the Mexica people, the future

Ah, I’m afraid I won’t be able to carry it for long!”

At this point, the old militiaman sighed and muttered to himself.

"Why can't the rocket I picked up turn into a fire demon? Otherwise, if you ask the nobles for a job as a water gate guard, you will have a way to survive at the critical moment!"

Not long after returning last time, a noble gentleman came down and reorganized the militiamen. Chihuaco, the old militiaman, took the opportunity to present the rocket he had picked up.

The gentlemen were overjoyed. They took the rocket and studied it over and over again. They opened the round paper shell in the middle and identified the charcoal powder and the "stone of the dead" inside. Then, the gentlemen dried the damp powder, and then

Lit it carefully. As a result, this thing is no different from ordinary charcoal powder. It burns normally and produces very choking smoke, but there is no sudden burst of fire.

Chihuaco couldn't figure it out, and neither did the old men. The reward that was promised was gone. The old militiaman was just promoted to a militia squad leader, in charge of more than a dozen militiamen, and then went to the most fierce place in the south city.

Throw it away and become a ball in the pile of firewood. After more than ten days, almost all of his militiamen were dead. Now there are only a few obedient fellow villagers left, fishing together in the city.

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! The old militiaman was thinking carefully, but in the "swish" rain of arrows, he heard Weziti's frightened call.

"Uncle, uncle! The Mexicans are coming up!"

Chihuaco trembled and looked ahead. At some point, another group of lean warriors came forward, picked up the wooden ladder that had fallen on the ground, and set it up to the top of the city again. Along with

Due to the movements of the warriors, the arrow rain from behind crossed the city head first, passed through his prone back, and directly shot several militiamen behind him to death.

The old militiaman's hands and feet were cold and his face was pale. At the critical moment, he showed unimaginable agility. He crawled backwards with his hands and legs, shouting "I'm going to get the rocks, everyone, hurry up and smash them down!"

Vesti was obedient and was the first to push the big stone down, smashing an Otopan warrior into the soil. The wooden ladder at the bottom of the city shook, and it was built up to the top of the city again.

The militiaman behind rushed forward and threw a short spear at the wooden ladder. Then he was knocked down by the crossbow with a "whoosh" sound. Another militiaman quickly picked up the wooden bow on the ground and lowered it suddenly.

The arrow shot a warrior to death. A moment later, a feathered arrow hit him accurately, shooting through his throat, and the arrow tip came out through his neck.

Wei Ziti's heart was trembling, and he also crawled to get the stone. Several warriors supervising the formation at the rear quickly stepped forward, kicked and beat the militiamen to the front, and then pressed down the formation with spears. The wooden ladder finally reached the top of the city.

It was stable and the copper hook hooked the city wall. The two militiamen tried hard to push it down, but they were only strung into gourds by an arrow. Then, a dozen Otomipan warriors were like dexterous apes, with awe-inspiring killing intent.

Climb the city.

The current warrior rushed forward and pushed the militiamen back a few steps. Then, a dozen warriors climbed up, wielding war clubs with sharp edges, cutting into the fragile bodies of the militiamen. A dozen bronze spears came at them, but they were struck by

The opponent's shield blocked it accurately, and his martial arts skills for many years seemed like instinct. The Tarasco warriors from the rear led the charge, and the militiamen followed suit. Their spears and war clubs clashed, and both sides fell one after another.

A kneeling corpse suddenly moved. Chihuaco, an old militiaman, poked his head out from behind and quickly looked at the situation. He looked at the increasing number of enemy warriors who were gathering, and then at the militiamen who were constantly being killed.

My heart felt cold. If this continued, even if subsequent reinforcements arrived and could drive the enemies off the city, I would not be able to survive that time!

Chihuaco thought hard and was stunned for a moment, then shouted loudly to his side.

"Boys, all come over with spears and squat next to me!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Weziti seemed to have found a backbone. He picked up a ubiquitous spear from the corpse on the ground, and gathered together with five or six militiamen from the same village.

"I shout my slogan, and you all join me in stabbing the leg in the center!"

"Uncle, if the center can't punish the enemy or our people, how can we stab them?"

The young militiaman asked blankly.

"Stop talking nonsense! No matter who he is over there, he won't be able to hold on for long anyway. I'll stab him down!"

Chihuaco, the old militiaman, had a rare ferocious look on his face. He shouted angrily.

"One, two, three, stab!"

Sixty-seven spears passed through the crossed legs and stabbed into the center at the same time. Several people from both sides of the war fell immediately, half of them were Otopan warriors and half of them were Tarasco militiamen. They covered their legs and struggled, and then

He was trampled on by the crowd and became silent for a moment.

"One, two, stab again!"

Several more people fell, and the warring parties came to a slight standstill. The Tarasco militiamen began to push the Otopan warriors who had ascended first toward the ladder.

"Stab! Stab again! Stab again!"

Continuous shouts rang out, and new militiamen joined in. A dozen people squatted and stabbed the warriors' unprotected legs and feet. Such wounds were not fatal, but they could make the injured lose the ability to fight.

The Tarasco militiamen continued to thrust out their spears, and the newly boarded warriors had to stop and squat with their shields to cover their lower parts. The Tarasco warriors supporting from the rear finally rushed to the top of the city and cooperated with the militiamen.

Drive away the Otopan warriors.

"Hoo, ho!"

The old militiaman Chihuaco sat slumped on the ground, still wearing a shield on his head. He showed a smile and was about to say something to the surrounding militiamen. A shrill rain of arrows struck again, killing the militiamen beside him in the blink of an eye.

Several people were shot to death, and the gentlemen at the top of the city fell down screaming.

There was a "bang" on the old militiaman's head, and his momentum directly brought him down into a pool of blood on the ground. After a moment, he stretched out his hands covered with blood, touched the arrows stuck on the shield, and murmured to himself

language.

"There is really no way to survive in this kind of day..."


This chapter has been completed!
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