Chapter 604 The Death of the Russian Marshal--
The gunfire kept falling on the ground, bringing not only smoke and dust, but also blood and broken meat. The huge roar was enough to shock the creatures close at hand, and the dangerous shock wave turned strong humans and those muscular horses into ridiculous rags.
People struggled to move forward. In order to avoid the dangers that could not be compelled by human beings, they had to bend down and try their best to move closer to the hasty guinea pigs.
The heroic cossacks howled and waved the snowy machete in their hands to attack the position again and again. However, the terrible quick-fire weapons on the Easterner's position even made them and their horses torn into pieces, and the blood spewed out and scattered on the messy ground. On the surface.
Pedrov, the originally confident Russian major general, could only look at his subordinates at this moment. Those brave soldiers were torn to pieces in front of the other party's weapons more than he knew.
And when the other party's gunfire, which deliberately controlled the range, suddenly began to extend, completely including the artillery position of the Russian expeditionary force into the range. When the red and black flame of the regiment turned the artillery position into a hell of lava, Peterov's ambition cooled directly to the asshole.
The officers, who were also ambitious as him before the start of the war, are now full of astonishment at the sudden outbreak of the powerful combat power of the Eastern army and a fear of falling into a trap.
Peterrov has a sense of humiliation of being deeply hurt and deceived. Yes, he hates those damn Orientals, those cunning and despicable Orientals. If they show such a powerful combat effectiveness at the beginning that can even make his proud Russian general fear, the Russian Expeditionary Force I will never be so entangled with them here.
"We were deceived by a nation that we think is cowardly and powerless, barbaric and ignorant." A hoarse and old voice sounded in Petrov's ear, whose face was red with anger.
Peterrov suddenly turned his head and saw the famous Russian coach Rumentsev standing beside him. His light gray eyes were full of fatigue and loss.
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"Marshal, why are you here? It's very dangerous here." Petrov had to shout loudly to suppress the hateful sound of gunfire.
"It doesn't matter, dear Major General, at this time, there will be a front line anywhere. Isn't it?" Rumentev shrugged his shoulders and seemed to continue his usual humor, but it sounded so cold at this moment. Yes, it was a not funny joke.
"I used to yearn for the East very much, dear Mr. Peterov. Well, now it's a conversation between an old man and a young man. I hope you don't mind me calling you that." Rummetsev casually took off the beautiful military cap on his head and straightened up his messy silver hair.
"Of course, the respected marshal." Petrov looked at Lumentche in front of him with some uncertainity. He had never found that the old man was as peaceful as in his backyard as he is now. This is a battlefield, a cruel battlefield of blood and fire, life and death.
In the face of countless gunfire and smoke, as well as the howling, roaring and crying of human beings, and the roar of the terrible weapons invented by human beings, his expression was unprecedentedly calm, which gave Peterrov, who was full of uneasiness and nervousness in his heart, a trace of curiosity.
"Yes, I used to yearn for the East very much. In this rich land, there is extremely gorgeous silk, the tea that exudes fragrance and makes people feel quiet, and the porcelain as precious as a treasure and as a work of art, which makes the whole Europe fall in love with it. . Yes, when I was very young, I was a retired major general of Russia, one of the participants in the former Yaksa War. My grandfather once told me that as long as we Russia could extend our tentacles, then what we could get would be more than we thought.
"He told me that those Orientals were arrogant and stupid. They didn't even know what diplomacy was, let alone what negotiation was. A war that ended in defeat in our Russia, but we had a vast Siberia. Yes, before that, everyone knew about this land. There is no master at all, and the Tatar emperor who occupies the rule of the East can only be described as stupid and arrogant, closed and narrow. As a result, in order to show us their kindness, yes, this is my grandfather. The participants in the treaty negotiations at that time told me that their imperial prime minister used such a word. So, they... you should know what I mean." Lumetzev made a gesture. We succeeded."
"My grandfather has been instilling in me the idea that these Orientals had a great talent for creating surnames in the past. They almost knew the world, but when those Tatars became their rulers, they almost destroyed everything about them, their costumes, and even their momentum. My God, when I heard In this story, I even thought it was just a ridiculous fairy tale..."
The counterattack of the Oriental army was not limited to the attacked position. They began to jump out of the bunker, lift their rifles, and shouted to fire. They pulled the bolt and threw out the shell casing. After that, they pulled the trigger. The bullet rotated out of the chamber at a speed exceeding the speed of sound and flew forward. Go, he easily pierced the leather armor of a Cossack cavalry, tore his skin and muscle tissue, and penetrated into his body.
"... An empire that was originally strong enough to amaze the whole world was forcibly stolen by a group of Tatars. They only know how to deal with that nation with butcher knives and torture. They want to enslave this land. First of all, they have to forget their pride, once great civilization, these The Tatars are even more ferocious and cunning than the Mongols who invaded Russia and Europe. Not only let them take off the dress and momentum they have been wearing for thousands of years, but even let them culturally eradicate their surnames and creations..."
A shell fell and exploded dozens of steps in front of them. More than a dozen guards in charge of vigilance were torn to pieces in the cracking fire. And Rumentev's story is still continuing... "My father, an excellent Russian lieutenant general, once a commander in charge of Siberian affairs, continues to instill such an idea in me. Yes, this original great nation has been changing, not in a good direction, but beginning to become stupid and cowardly. Weak, becoming as barbaric and ignorant as those Tatars. They even forgot that their ancestors improved and created firearms again and again. They rejected all changes, and even regarded the things they invented and created as heresy, you know? The Tatar emperor even ordered to control the gunpowder of the people, and even strictly controlled the army. He was just afraid that the nation they ruled would use these things to resist the rule of the Tatars. Their weapons even lagged behind the empire they had destroyed before..."
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Horses, war horses, countless war horses carrying thousands of cavalry in black and black helmets are rushing towards the Russian expeditionary camp not far away at a rushing speed. Twenty thousand iron horses seem to have no warning at all. The terrible nightmares coming out of hell reveal their ferocious minions, sending the Earth-shaking roar, rushing forward.
In front of the camp, news has been received that the formation of more than ten thousand Cossack cavalry showed a trace of uncertainty in their flashing eyes when facing this group of fearless and ferocious black armor demons. Yes, no one can dare to reverse such an unreserved charge and sudden in the face of the Cossacks. Enter, but now, in front of them, the roar of the oriental cavalry in black and black armor makes people shudder, and the machete in their hands even gives people the illusion that they are already full of swords.
They are like the surging waves, as if even a towering peak can't stop their footsteps. All obstacles that hinder their progress will be torn to pieces.
"...When I received the order from His Majesty the Tsar, the reason why I didn't refuse was that I wanted to verify my grandfather and my father's experience in person..."
"Marshal, general, we must leave here, cavalry, their cavalry has appeared, God, absolutely more than 10,000 people, absolutely more than, we must leave here." Rumantsev's adjutant shouted loudly, and the officers and guards around them looked so frightened and shouted loudly, issuing repeated or opposite orders.
With a bitter smile on the corners of his mouth, Rumentsev continued to look for a horse in horror, hoping to escape from the crisis of being annihilated by tens of thousands of strong Eastern troops, "But I was wrong, yes, we are all wrong. We have made the same mistake as our European compatriots and despised it. They despised the empire, the strength and determination of the nation to recover, and the courage and ability of the nation to continue. Now, it's time for us to pay the price, but this price will not only be our expeditionary force, dear Peterov, believe me, they will become Russia, oh no, even the whole Europe will worry about..."
"This old madman! Let's go! Come on, let the Cossacks go to the back and stop the damn oriental bastards. You, I order you to do everything possible to stop their counterattack..." Peterov gave the order in panic and rode the horse led by the adjutant. Under the protection of the guards, he threw down the snecdote like a mental patient. The nagging marshal of the Russian Empire struggled to beat the horse with a whip and fled in the direction he subconsciously thought was safe.
"Yes, dear grandfather, dear father, we are all wrong. The speed of their recovery is beyond the imagination of all of us. The East, this vast land, which should have been Russians, has..." A shrapnel flying from which direction hit the imperial marshal's chest. He has He lowered his head in astonishment and looked at the white and clean clothes on his chest, which was soaked with blood and dyed strange red.
He pushed away the servant who supported his body and staggered to take a step, but in the end, he knelt down weakly and knelt on the land occupied by his fathers with bayonets and muskets. The fragrance of the earth and weeds will bury his old and dying body together with his soul. Burial......--------------------
(to be continued)