More than 10,000 light cavalry roared and charged.
They used the classic tactic of the whip of God that conquered half the world.
Attack in the middle and outflank from both wings.
Facing the storm army in heaven, this tactic is definitely not the best, but these herdsmen have no better choice.
It is almost impossible to assemble a migration team that stretches for more than ten miles in a short time.
So they gathered nearby and formed three groups of cavalry.
People on the grassland all know that the most important thing in cavalry combat is formation. Once the cavalry's formation is messed up, the combat effectiveness will be sharply reduced.
These old and weak women and children maintained the cavalry formation as much as possible.
The people who hit the front were a group of men. Old men.
They are all at least fifty years old, with the average age being around sixty.
Each of these old people were brave and capable warriors a few decades ago. Now that they are older, they can still ride war horses and carry scimitars. There are even some old people who start to fight with scimitars in their mouths.
Bow and arrow.
Behind the old man was a group of young men. Almost none of them was over sixteen years old. They were all teenagers, with childish cheeks full of perseverance that looked back upon death.
But their skillful horsemanship is deeply impressive.
The third rank of the cavalry is almost all women, old, young, and young, and they are the largest in number.
Many women have young children tied up on their backs.
They will be recorded in the annals of human history forever.
This is the first time in this catastrophe that a woman on earth has faced a powerful enemy in heaven.
Due to Yu Jizi's deliberate suppression of the Western Regions over the years, the Western Regions were in dire need of supplies.
Very few of the weapons pulled from the arsenals of Northern Xinjiang ended up in the Western Regions.
But the people in the Western Regions did not give up because of this. They gathered all the better weapons and gave them to the young men in the tribe.
At this moment, none of the scimitars in the hands of these old, weak, women and children had decent handles. They were either broken or rusty.
They use this weapon to face celestial enemies that are more ferocious and powerful than tigers and wolves, just like with their bare hands.
But they are still accelerating, accelerating, and accelerating.
Accelerating with them were hundreds of hounds.
When faced with death, these loyal hunting dogs chose to die with their owners without hesitation.
Five hundred feet, three hundred feet, two hundred feet, one hundred feet...
When the distance between the two sides was only a few dozen feet, a wave of arrows soared into the sky, drawing a perfect parabola in the air and falling rapidly.
Different from the rain of arrows that covered the sky during the cavalry decisive battle in the wilderness of southern Xinjiang, the wave of arrows in front of me were only scattered and could hardly do much damage to the thick-skinned six-legged beast cavalry.
force.
The two groups of men and horses collided.
The black six-legged beast rides like a black torrent. Wherever it passes, people are turned upside down, heads and stumps fly everywhere, and the ancient land is dyed red with blood.
The scimitar slashes like a flickering meteor.
The war horses surged like a surging river.
The vast grassland war song sounded slowly.
Fighting or massacre has no meaning anymore.
Everyone thinks that if they kill an enemy, then their son will have one less enemy to encounter on the battlefield.
A man with a broken arm who followed Zhebie on an expedition in his early years. Ten years ago, he was still the most valiant warrior on the grassland. In a battle in the wilderness of southern Xinjiang, he broke an arm and could no longer draw the bow, so he returned to the tribe to eat and wait to die.
.
He longed to go to the battlefield again and fight side by side with his companions again.
He thought he would never have another chance in this life.
Today, he ushered in the last moment of his life, which was also the most glorious and shining moment.
Nine years ago, he failed to kill an enemy, which he regarded as a great humiliation.
Today he will take back the glory that belongs to him.
At this moment, he bent down to dodge the spear coming from the front, kicked off his feet, jumped up from the horse with all his strength, and flew onto the back of the oncoming six-legged beast.
With his remaining left hand, he pounced down a black-armored warrior riding on the six-legged beast.
Two people were rolling on the ground where thousands of horses were galloping.
The black-armored warrior's helmet fell off during the rolling, revealing a face.
This is a human face, young and full of vitality. It does not have two extra eyes or an extra ear.
There was also fear flashing in his eyes.
There is nothing different from human beings on earth.
However, he and the man with the broken arm were from two different worlds.
The man with a broken arm was riding on the black-armored warrior, raised the scimitar in his left hand and struck at the black-armored warrior's head.
The black-armored warrior tilted his head and while dodging the sword, he grabbed the one-armed man's left wrist.
At the same time, he used his other hand to draw the short knife from his waist.
In this fight, the man with the broken arm was obviously at a disadvantage because he was missing one hand.
He saw the other party drawing a dagger and knew something was wrong.
His left wrist was firmly held by the opponent, and the scimitar had fallen to the ground.
There seems to be no suspense in this life-and-death fight.
The moment the black-armored warrior pulled out the scimitar from his waist, the man with the broken arm suddenly pressed down and bit the black-armored warrior's neck.
As the man in black armor screamed, a large piece of flesh and blood was bitten off from his neck by the one-armed man.
The one-armed man was also a veteran. He knew that this piece of meat was not enough to kill the enemy. He had to cut off the enemy's trachea.
So he was like a mad dog, constantly biting the black-armored warrior's neck.
At the same time, the man in black armor who was in severe pain also used the short knife in his hand to stab the man with the broken arm in the back.
The man with a broken arm was stabbed dozens of times on his back, and the black-armored warrior under him was motionless.
In a few breaths, the black-armored warrior's neck was bitten off by the one-armed man, and even the joint bones in his neck were bitten to pieces.
The man with a broken arm raised his head, his face covered with blood and flesh residue.
He looked up to the sky and shouted: "General! I finally killed an enemy..."
A spear was stabbed into his chest, like a skewer, sending him flying.
Immediately, the owner of the spear shook his hand, and the body of the man with the broken arm was thrown away.
When it fell to the ground, the man with the broken arm lost his sight.
He murmured "I killed an enemy...I am not...a coward...not..."
A fight like this is just the tip of the iceberg on a huge battlefield, a small ripple in the ocean. It will not be remembered by anyone except the one-armed man himself.
Almost all the old men who charged in front died.
The ones who really did some damage to the six-legged beasts of heaven were the young men in the second echelon and the women in the third echelon.
Especially the teenagers over fourteen years old and those young women in the team, they brought harm to the six-legged beast riders. But the damage they caused to the enemy was almost negligible compared with their own losses.
