Chapter 15 Red Maple Leaf

"Begone the loser--" A thousand-fu chief of Mengyang waved his sword and roared, and everyone trembled under his sad voice. In the face of the vigorous riding like the iron flow, every Mengyang step warrior has a panic from the depths of his heart. They have heard of the legend of the heroic horse slaughtering the city in the era of Zhuo Ligetu a hundred years ago. They have also heard that when the magnificent horse deals with prisoners, they let the prisoners lie down, and tens of thousands of iron horses trampled on horses, leaving an indistingible meat mud; I have also heard that when the vigorous horse usually goes on an expedition, they only carry armor and knives without food, because they are man-eating demons when they are hungry. All kinds of terrible legends crawl out of the hearts of Mengyang warriors and wantonly destroy the courage of Mengyang people to hold their swords in the end.

"I can't stand it - I'm going home." A young warrior with shawl dropped his knife, held his head in his hands, covered his ears in horror and roared and fled from the battlefield crazily. He shuttled through the crowd and didn't notice that he was fleeing there. As long as he could get out of here, no matter where he went!

The young warrior was about to drive past Yeming Mountain, and Yeming Mountain's hand holding the sword tightened - he knew the seriousness of the military order. If he did not cut off the defeated warrior's head to stand up at this time, no one would follow him to resist. But what a young face! It seems that he is only 16 or 17 years old. He may have entered the army in his first year, or even joined the army because of his greed for the mighty clothes of warriors. He is not ready to die at all. But how can his young heart bear to see so many people around him turn into wreckage and bones like that? Ye Mingshan can see from his eyes that he is really afraid. He is naturally afraid. Is he going to cut off his head? Ye Mingshan is not only the general of Zhentian, but also the lord of the night kingdom. This young warrior is his people. Maybe his family still has an old mother and wife waiting for him to go back. Do you really want to kill him?

General Zhentian, who has always been calm and decisive, hesitated at this time. Maybe he hasn't fought for a long time, and his original decisive heart has become soft in comfort! Maybe - maybe I know that my son is dead, and I don't want to see the fall of my young life. The figure of the young warrior passed by him. The wind brought by him when he rushed by stirred up on Ye Mingshan's face. Ye Mingshan suddenly woke up a lot, and he immediately regretted it - this is the battlefield! How can we allow deserters who affect morale to exist? Realizing that this was a huge mistake, he suddenly turned around, but a touch of scarlet blood came towards him. He didn't have time to flash, and the hot blood poured on his face like a heavy rain! The head of the big child warrior had rolled down, and the headless body continued to run forward a few steps before falling.

The knife that cut off the head of the escaped warrior was held in the hands of a middle-aged warrior with a grim face and a layer of iron cyan. He nodded to the general and said, "General, only you can compete with the enemy's king. We are no match for him. Two hundred people have died at the hands of the devil. I will take the warriors to charge again to cover you to the demon. General, as long as we can kill that devil, we will win--" The commander looked at the general resolutely, with a kind of awe-inspiringness in his eyes.

The general looked at the body of the young fleeing warrior, and his headless torso was still suddenly bleeding. The general's face was full of blood could not see what the expression was, and only his dark moonless midnight-like eyes were a flash of compassion. The chief followed the general's eyes and sighed, "He is my son, but we Liu's man can't have cowardly--"

The general trembled and didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't know what to say at this moment. He, who had always been domineering, seemed to become soft after seeing too much white hair. He looked up, and the demon-like figure of the king jumped wildly in the crowd. He was one hand*, and his body rotated like a top, and the fast-moving blade cut the waist of the Mengyang warrior without hindrance. Meat grinder, the word jumped out of the general's mind. The old man, who is over 100 years old, can't compete with it at all. His white hair is coagulated into several bundles of blood, swinging freely on his head and roaring 'kill' in his mouth.

The general took a breath, and the bloody air poured into his chest, as if it was more effective than spirits. The general felt a stream of heat rising in his body, a fire rolling in his chest, and a buzzing sound of the Zhanlu sword in his hand. He seemed to return to when he was still a soldier, killing and roared on the battlefield, building a ladder with the enemy's head, and stepping onto the glorious hall of 'General Zhentian'. He inserted the Zhan Lu sword back into the scabbard and untied the brocade on his shoulder, which had been splashed with blood into dark red. The beast helmet with white feathers was removed, and even the wrist guard that would affect him was removed, and the leg armor was removed, leaving only the chest armor. He pulled out the Zhanlu sword again and picked up a heavy war knife from the ground, and the light in his eyes became violent and ferocious.

Ye Mingshan didn't look like a general at this time, but like a pawn in the battle. At this moment, Mengyang's formation has been completely destroyed by the heroic horse. Only by the explosive power of Mengyang warriors can it save the situation, and it is only possible. Ye Mingshan raised his sword and turned the murder machine in his chest into a roar of Zhentian: "Follow me, kill--" The voice shocked his heart like Huang Zhong Dalu. Mengyang, who was originally numb and timid and ready to give up resistance, seemed to be aroused by the blood in his bones. He raised his weapon again, followed the general, and rushed to the group of steel cavalry on horseback!

Su, who was riding on the horse, suddenly found that Mengyang's walking brigade had become different, and those originally negative walking brigades suddenly seemed to be as fast as **. They abandoned sabers, long guns and bows and arrows, pulled out a foot-long dagger from their boots, and besieged a fierce horse riding in groups of three or five people, like a group of bees. The dagger is light in weight, waved extremely quickly, and the cold light shines like the surface of the water dropped stones in the sun. In contrast, when the vigorous rider waved heavy *, the coherence of the action is obviously much inferior. The brigades shuttled between the horses. They had trained how to fight against the heavily armored cavalry. The heavily armored cavalry was covered with heavy armor, and even the horses were dressed in Ma Kai. Their weakness lies in the horse's leg, cutting off the horse's leg, and the heroic riding can only dismount to fight close to the horse. The advantage of the heavy cavalry who loses the superiority of cutting on the horse is not so obvious, and the heavy armor will even become a burden for them.........

On the whole battlefield, Mengyang's warriors and Chi Naisi's warriors were glued together. It was completely dependent on human life. The king saw his warriors fall from the horse one by one and besieged by Mengyang's swarm of bees, and the murderousness in his heart was even more prosperous. He dropped the rolled blade* in his left hand, pulled a warrior, waved the knife without hesitation, and the blade entered from the left neck, cut down obliquely, and cut out from the right waist. The upper part of the warrior's body slid down, and he saw that his lower half of his waist was bleeding, and his intestines and various organs flowed out and roared. The warriors around the king shivered, took a few steps back, and raised their knives to confront the king. None of the dozens of warriors dared to rush up again. The samurai who had been cut in two was not dead yet. He cried and shook his viscera with his hands and shouted sadly. The sad voice was like a spell from hell, hitting the willpower of the surviving warriors around him.

The king stood proudly and carried a five-foot knife on his shoulder. His amber eyes flashed with fierce light and looked around the warriors without any emotion. Within 30 steps, as if it were the universe centered on him, there was nothing that could compete with it. This over 100-year-old king was kind and kind when he put down his sword, but after holding the sword, he was a bloodthirsty devil, and no one could stop him from his sharpness.

Suddenly, it seemed that there was a wind passing by. The bloody wind cut his face like the white wind in the deep winter of the far north, and the king couldn't help closing his eyes. Then a knife rushed to his face, and the knife cut it down with a more murderous spirit than the wind. The king couldn't believe that someone could swing the five-foot war horse knife so quickly. He almost instinctively waved his knife to block it, because the enemy's knife was too fast, as if it was surrounded by enemy knives. He didn't know which direction to resist it. He had to wave the knife at fate - "bang" with a loud sound and the blade. It turned out to be a thunderous explosion. The king felt that his hand holding the knife was about to be broken by the anti-shock force. He believed that his opponent would never feel good, but he was wrong. The opponent didn't seem to feel it, and it was another fierce and domineering attack, but this time it was a sword, a sharp sword with dark but complicated patterns.

The king smiled. Since its appearance, the sword has not been the mainstream weapon on the battlefield. It is light, can't resist chopping, and it is difficult to kill the enemy. Now someone attacked him with a sword? The king suddenly felt ridiculous - but his laughter was blocked by panic. The black blade cut off his five feet* like parchment. He threw off the remaining half of the blade and staggered his body. The blade could be scratched through his chest, cutting the wolf skin armor, leaving a blood tank on his chest. The king was shocked, the king was angry, and the king couldn't believe it - this was the first time he had been injured since he set foot in the south. He stood up and looked at the people and wanted to see who was so brave enough to hurt him.

The king looked at it, but he looked at a pair of eyes as dark as night. Their eyes were so dark that they seemed to press the weight of the whole starry sky on him, which made him almost suffocate! Ye Mingshan--" The king roared and shouted the name, and it was Mengyang's famous general who hurt him in front of him. Once again, he underestimated this man with the title of 'Zhentian'. He can become the Zhentian general of Mengyang. In addition to having the talent of arraying ancient and modern times, how can he underestimate his own force? The king looked at the Zhanlu sword in Yemingshan's left hand, and it was the sword that hurt himself? The king doesn't know that this sword is many expensive. How can the sword given by the founding emperor of Mengyang be measured by routine?

Ye Mingshan did not waste much of his tongue. His left hand was a sword, his right hand*, and his eyes were so dark that he had no emotion. He attacked without hesitation. The sword seemed not to be a cold metal in his hand, but a poisonous snake and a fierce fire. The king quickly picked up a knife from the ground and faced it regardless of his life. Everyone avoided these two people. At this time, this small area of the world belongs to General Zhentian and King Chi Nasi. Anyone who dares to offend will undoubtedly be strangled into pieces by the air of the two.

The king didn't know whether he was fighting against human beings or not. In the hands of Yeming Mountain, five feet * seemed to have no weight, and he waved like a gust of wind, but every time the blade was fought, he felt as heavy as thunder; while the Zhanlu sword in the other hand seemed to be light and elegant, but it pressed against him like a huge mountain. The king originally thought that the warriors relied on vigorous chopping and won with unprecedented momentum, but he had never seen anyone so calm in the decisive battle on the top of life and death. Yemingshan's face is quiet like a clear lake, his eyes are as dark as the sky at night, and his restrained breath is like a black hole in the depths of the universe. Any provocation will be swallowed up in front of him. The king felt like this at this time, and the strange feeling made him feel like a murderous dream.

Mengyang's walking brigade and Chi Nasi's vigorous riding are still glued. In the eyes of Mengyang warriors, the vigorous riding is not so terrible; in the eyes of the vigorous riding warriors, Mengyang warriors are not a lamb that they are allowed to trample on. Both sides are fighting with their lives. The battlefield is full of corpses, the rotten vulture is hovering high in the sky, and the faint light in the morning shows a gorgeous scarlet under the shadow of blood.

At this moment, an arrow flew out of the sky behind Mengyang. The sharp sound of the sound of fighting through the battlefield, and the arrow burst into the sky, emitting a bright light. The bloody warriors looked up numbly and blankly at the light brighter than the noon sun in the sky, as if they had seen gods, and their hands holding the blade couldn't help loosening.

There was a roar of horns behind the Mengyang camp, followed by the overwhelming sound of horses' hoofs. A team of light cavalry rushed to the battlefield at high speed, and the leading cavalry held a high flag with a red maple leaf sign on the flag. I don't know who shouted excitedly, "Brothers, kill! Our Mengyang reinforcements have arrived!"