One Thousand Three Hundred and Eighty-Five Calm Steps

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A swordsman from the Heavenly Sword Sect was hiding in a bomb crater, gnawing on a scorched rabbit leg. The rabbit died from a shell that deviated from its target, and it happened to land near the crater when it was blown up.

In fact, the rabbit was inedible no matter what, not to mention the strange burnt smell, the inside was undercooked and the outside was burnt black, which made people lose their appetite at first glance.

However, the sad thing is that because the logistics supply of Tianjian Shenzong has been chaotic, some supply lines have been completely cut off, so it is definitely not very good for a poor grassroots swordsman to be able to find some food at this time easy thing.

He tried his best to tear the uncooked rabbit meat with his teeth, looking at the broken tree next to him, and those branches cut and broken by shrapnel, he felt unspeakable sadness in his heart.

Not long ago, his natal flying sword had cracks in the brutal battle. In such a high-intensity battle, he couldn't even move the spiritual energy to nourish his flying sword, let alone other energy.

This kind of battle is really too difficult for a swordsman of his cultivation level. The powerful explosive power and close combat ability of a swordsman master are not enough in the face of high-intensity battles.

After swallowing that half-baked rabbit leg, this lucky sword cultivator at least managed to fill his stomach.

Another swordsman not far away from him was not so lucky. He hasn't eaten properly for two days.

Already vaguely feeling that his stomach hurts, he struggled for a long time, and finally took out the only elixir left in his bosom, stuffed it into his mouth, barely moistened the elixir with his smoking mouth, let the pill The fragrance temporarily disperses the hunger.

However, he didn't know what to do next. The order to retreat had not been sent, and it was obvious that staying here was a dead end.

"What should I do?" He didn't dare to abandon the sect, because there was no doubt about the strength of the Heavenly Sword Sect. It was too easy to hunt down such a poor monk like him.

But he didn't intend to fight to the death here, because there is hope only when he is alive, and nothing is left when he dies.

Waiting until the fragrance of the pill disappeared without a trace in his mouth, the poor monk finally waited for the changes on the battlefield—but, he didn't want to see such changes.

A shell suddenly fell and hit a small high ground not far from his side. There are dozens of his fellow disciples stationed there, but now he is extremely lucky because his dead friends are not dead.

Fortunately...it hit the high ground over there. If it hit his side, he would be in bad luck.

Sure enough, before his mental activity ended, more shells fell like raindrops.

"Heh!" He grinned, seeing the smoke billowing in the distance, he didn't know whether it was gloating or insensitive.

The ground shook and the mountains shook, and stone chips and blade-like shock waves were everywhere. Flying stumps and broken arms are mixed in, and fragments of trees that should have grown densely on the top of the mountain can also be seen.

The place that was calm like a lake just now is now tyrannical like hell. The swordsmen who were actively intercepting the incoming shells are now used to not caring about the deadly falling objects.

Because those falling bodies, in their view, can't be stopped. Their precious aura, and the flying sword, which was regarded as life, were exhausted in another collision, broken into powder, and that kind of flying weapon, when the other party threw it, it seemed like garbage for no money.

This is not an equal contest at all, the opponent is obviously using these weapons to consume their combat power.

When they were exhausted to the point of exhaustion and their combat power was running low, the opponent would launch an attack, throwing in those sturdy tortoise-like chariots, bit by bit eating away at their positions.

The situation of the entire war, as long as you are not blind, you can already see that it is developing in a direction that is unfavorable to them.

Before,

When he had just arrived at the front line, Jianfeng where they were, those high-spirited colleagues were still attacking an unknown small mountain village.

But later, they were ordered to retreat to the edge of a dense forest, seeing a disfigured wheat field in front of them.

Later, they were ordered to retreat again, and retreated to the back of the dense forest... Yesterday, they just retreated here, and barely built a ridiculous, weird defensive position here.

They also imitated the appearance of those enemies, connected the bomb craters, and dug a long and large hole. Such a large pit can reduce the probability of being hit by enemy weapons and allow them to save their own lives.

In the past, facing the enemy's dense rain of arrows and the enemy's army like an ocean, they strolled in the courtyard, chatting and laughing, and let the masts and sculls be wiped out. How can they retreat in such a panic today?

Just when he was thinking about those glorious pasts in his mind, the artillery fire that covered the small hill suddenly extended to where he was.

A cannonball exploded not far from him. The huge air wave and deafening sound pulled the poor swordsman back to reality.

He hugged his head decisively, retracted to the bottom of the crater, and waited obediently, waiting for the arrival of his last moment.

It is a pity that the shell did not directly hit the crater where he was, but crossed the crater and extended to the distance.

The air was filled with the smell of dust rolled up by the explosion, mixed with some burnt smell.

The swordsman curled up in a ball ignored the dust on his body and poked his head out of the crater. When his vision recovered and the dust before his eyes gradually subsided, the shelling had stopped.

At this time, the swordsman discovered that next to the bomb crater where he was, another bomb crater had been filled with more than half of the huge crater blown out by new shells.

Now, the new crater is still steaming, and in the newly buried crater, the palm of the buried corpse is still holding a rabbit leg bone with flesh and blood.

"Zhang Hao! Brother Zhang Hao!" The swordsman, who survived rolling and crawling, cried and rolled over into the half-collapsed bomb crater. While digging with his hands, he shouted loudly.

Unfortunately, no one responded to his cry. He stopped digging, because the soil in his hands had become sticky, and the red blood had soaked out of the soil.

Everything seems to have returned to calm, but in the calm, the two wings of this position, the densely packed troop of puppet robots, turned over their trenches, holding weapons, accompanied by M4 tanks that lit up the magic defense barrier, calmly took a step.