At the company camp of the 7th Cavalry Brigade, a group of soldiers surrounded the small school field.
More than a dozen thin-skinned coffins were arranged neatly in a row. The headless corpse in the front coffin was neatly dressed in the uniform of a school officer. It looked particularly eye-catching under the dim light of the oil and gas lamp. The soldiers who usually behaved very rudely and arrogantly in the small town were at this moment.
But he subconsciously stayed away from his former boss.
Faced with the tragic situation of Colonel Bagley being beheaded, Captain Algren running away, and Second Lieutenant Jim turning into a raving lunatic, there were only 80 people left among the hundred men, plus another second lieutenant who was already in the telegraph room.
Accompanying Bagley to his death, the company's top commander at this time was only a few cavalry commanders with the rank of staff sergeant, and it was impossible for this elite team to make any effective and decent response.
In fact, the fact that this team did not mutiny and escape immediately was considered extremely disciplined.
One of the captains kicked the coffin with his mud-stained military boots and muttered sadly: "The head is gone. We might as well go back to Houston and return to the team and let the big shots handle it..."
"Bartrew! You son of a bitch and a coward! Why don't you just take off your epaulettes and eat cow dung when you go back like this? We are the most elite 7th Cavalry Brigade of the great United States Army. We were brutally murdered by a gangster. The highest officer was killed.
One-fifth of our comrades, and you tell me to let us escape?" A strong man who looked drunk spit out his cigar and cursed loudly.
"So what if I don't escape? The enemy didn't fire a single shot, and the colonel's head is gone. Who knows if it's a demon or a wraith..." I don't know which soldier retorted in a low voice in the crowd. The more he spoke, the lower his voice became. It was obvious that
I have been frightened by the tragic and unexplained deaths one after another.
Such words that would have been loudly laughed at by his comrades in the past were now followed by a heart-stopping silence. Even the strong man who just cursed loudly stopped speaking.
According to the analysis of several soldiers in the team who were hunters and were extremely good at tracking after investigating the scene, there was indeed only one enemy, but the few footprints were so faint that the heels were almost invisible, as if they were walking lightly with their toes; even if they were all over the ground
There were no traces of blood left behind. Apart from the few bloody words on the wall, it didn't look like a human being had committed a crime.
What they couldn't accept the most was that the enemy didn't fire a single shot at all, and relied entirely on an extremely sharp cold weapon to make the officers who were several times his size not even have a chance to draw their guns. They had completely surpassed their understanding of the battle.
Definition.
All kinds of conditions made this group of soldiers who dared to charge against Confederate artillery shells lose their courage.
However, even if there are some brave soldiers who want to track him down, with only a few clues, they can't analyze the approximate height and weight of this terrifying enemy at all, and they don't even know how to issue a reward notice.
The oil and gas lamps were swayed by the strong wind blowing from the depths of the Gobi, and the soldiers collectively shrank when the wind and sand hit them.
The camp was stationed on a slightly raised highland on the edge of the town. The defensive fences were sparse and looked more like decorations. Obviously, this group of soldiers did not think that anyone would be bold enough to attack the regular army directly, so that except for a few
A wandering knight in a daze, he didn't even bother to set up a secret sentry.
Kazuyo Sorayama had no expression on his face. After severing the throat of the last patrolling sentry, he followed the wind and sand to a shadow and silently stared at the dark figure inside.
He is waiting.
Although the morale of this group of soldiers was completely depleted, he could not rush in and kill them all. He even had no intention of secretly launching a cold attack. Although under the current conditions, the opponent might just be a group of living targets, but how many people could he kill in this way?
According to his deduction, as soon as gunfire rang out, this group of soldiers would disperse quickly even by instinct, and then some would look for bunkers, some would concentrate firepower to counterattack, and some would mount their horses to outflank them.
In gun-on-gun combat, they are the real experts.
Even with Kazuha Sorayama's appalling military skills, after so many experiences of being enemies of an organized brigade, he also knows that no matter how complete the organization is, it will be disorganized when it collapses. Only when the opponent completely collapses, nothing will happen.
Only when he has the desire to fight can he have the opportunity to harvest calmly.
And in the process, he can't use a gun!
Otherwise, he will change from an omnipotent unknown existence to an ordinary gangster that can be seen everywhere in the western land, which will only restore the morale of the soldiers.
The result of the discussion was of course fruitless. There was no commander, no orders, and no or no enemies. For this group of soldiers, there was no solution. The only thing they could do at this time was to gather everyone to defend.
, waiting for officers to be sent back from above with support. They believe that this time will not be too long, no more than three days at most.
Kazuyo Sorayama narrowed his eyes and watched the soldiers return to the barracks one by one. Only a few soldiers packed up their equipment and walked to the stables, as if they were going to take over from their comrades for inspection at the next period.
"Six riders at a time, changing teams every two hours..." Sorayama Kazuyo thought silently, he straightened the light of the captain behind him, and slowly disappeared from the shadows, leaving only a deep silence.
It was four o'clock in the morning. At this time, it was the darkest moment in 24 hours, and there was a burst of intensive gunfire in the lifeless camp. A continuous day of inspections and the untimely death of the top officer made many exhausted soldiers fall asleep soon, but they heard
The moment the gunfire rang out, the soldiers did not grab their pants to cover their hairy thighs, but grabbed the long and short weapons beside them and rushed out of the barracks to fight the enemy.
When they saw that it was their comrades who were shouting and grabbing in the air, a burst of vicious curses mixed with various slang and dialects spewed out.
"If it weren't for the fact that you saved my life, Ryder, I swear I'd stick the barrel of my Colt up your ass and shoot you six rounds. Damn it, pigs ate your brains out.
Is that so?" The strong man burst out with the loudest voice at night, covering up all other sounds.
The fingers of the soldiers who fired were still holding on to the triggers that had emptied the magazines. One of them pointed at the door of the barracks with eyes blank, and said with difficulty: "Dead, all dead... Devil, here comes the devil."
Pass here..."
A group of people followed the direction of the fingers and walked to the camp gate cautiously and looked carefully: under the dim light of the oil and gas lamps, more than a dozen corpses fell to the ground. The corpses were neatly arranged, with nervous and solemn expressions, as if they were being reviewed by a superior.
soldiers.
But what they are holding in their arms is not a gun, but their own heads!
A line of large characters composed of blood stains is particularly conspicuous outside the camp gate - You are the only one left.
It was creepy! Many soldiers with bare legs felt a cold air rushing from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads. Their bodies were shaking uncontrollably, and they let their weapons fall to the ground. If they had not controlled it with great perseverance, there would have been many who fainted on the spot.
.
I don’t know how long it took, and I don’t know who was the first to howl. Then, like a plague, many people rushed back to the barracks and closed the door tightly, hiding on the cots and shivering like little girls.
It was finally daylight, and the expected demonic death did not happen, but the more and more frequent sound of horses galloping let the soldiers who stayed know that a large number of deserters still appeared. But they could not accuse their comrades of cowardice.
Even if they choose to stay, the main reason is simply due to inertia.
And this was only one day after Sorayama Ichiyo's revenge.