Chapter 196: Battle of Takuro Plains (Part 2)

The wind howled, blowing through the howls of the battlefield. The sun was shining, illuminating the bright red battle.

Looking down from the sky, the two huge legions let out earth-shaking shouts, gathered together like ants, and arranged in a dense formation. The Chapala Legion occupied a hill with a favorable terrain. Ten thousand warriors were stationed firmly on the hills. Four thousand militia archers were ready to draw their bows on the high ground, and the twelve thousand militias in front of the formation went forward to harass.

The harassing militia formed a loose formation in waves of two thousand people. Under the shooting of longbows, they threw stones and stone spears, causing insignificant casualties, and were nailed to death in front of the formation in batches, with blood staining the red soil. From time to time, militias cried and retreated, and were gathered by the warriors in the rear, and then forced to drive forward again!

Looking at this tragic scene, Xiu Luote had a blank expression on his face. He watched the enemy priests dancing wildly on the hillock, listened to the fanatical calls of the pagan gods, and carefully observed the enemy. With the addition of religious rituals, the Chapala warriors on the hillock were calm and not shaken by the casualties of the militia, as if they were watching a huge sacrifice.

"I really underestimated these Chapala nobles! In order to consume the arrows of the longbows, they directly used the lives of the militia to fill them!"

The young commander frowned, listened to the arrow reserves reported by the shooting corps, and nodded slightly. Soon, the dense rain of arrows gradually became sparse, and the longbow warriors retreated to the back of the formation, recovered their arm strength, and stopped shooting.

Then, Shulot pointed the flag forward, and the fierce war drums sounded, and the warriors' battle formation slowly attacked.

Under the cover of shields, the Mexica Corps moved forward steadily and destroyed all enemies that blocked it! The long spear phalanx erected hedgehog-like spears, and the Holy City Corps raised river turtle-like stick shields. They moved steadily and firmly under the harassment of the enemy militia and the blows of javelins and stone throwing. Soon, the Chapala militia at the front threw all the javelins in their hands, waved stone hammers and stone spears, burst into frenzied shouts, and rushed forward.

Guzman, the captain of the spears, wore paper armor and a rattan helmet, and stood in the center of the dense gun formation. He tied a shield on his left hand, shielding his companion on the left, and held a spear high in his right hand, resting on the shoulder of the companion in front. Everyone was crowded together, shoulder to shoulder, with guns on guns, and slowly moved forward. From time to time, whistling rain of arrows flew over their heads, and stones and javelins flew over, hitting the solid rattan helmets and thick shields. Stone throwing had no power, but javelins were somewhat dangerous. Occasionally, someone screamed and fell to the ground with a plop, but you couldn't see where they were, or who they were.

Guzman sniffed his nose, which was full of thick blood that could not be dissolved, and mixed with the familiar sweat smell of his companions. His feet were sticky, and from time to time he would step on something soft, and some would move. But he couldn't stop, nor could he look around. He could only use a limited perspective to focus his eyes on the enemy in front of him and command the gun formation to move forward, forward, and forward again!

Once the long spear phalanx moves, it will no longer stop. The harsh and complicated training in the past six months has made everyone's movements become the instinct of muscles, condensing into a complete group. Now, Guzman is the brain and eyes of the phalanx. He saw countless figures rushing from the front, saw the opponent's thin cloth, saw the waving stone short spears, and finally saw a distorted and screaming face, which quickly enlarged in front of his eyes!

At this moment, Guzman's mind was blank, and he couldn't hear anything in his ears. He continued to command the long spear phalanx to move forward in a daze, until the speed of the phalanx suddenly stopped and "bang" hit something!

A shrill scream rang in his ears, awakening Guzman from his trance. He opened his eyes and looked ahead. There were five layers of spears sticking out from the front of the square formation, and two layers of corpses were already strung on them! No, the ones strung on the spears were not corpses, at most they were future corpses. They were still struggling and shaking, still shouting and screaming, still bleeding and crying, and then they were squeezed deeper by the people behind them until they were completely silent.

Seeing this tragic scene, Guzman shuddered. The square formation stopped moving, and he had already stuck to his companions in the front row, pushing the people in front forward, and the people behind him also pushed him. Then, under the inertia of long-term training, he suddenly remembered his duties. So, the young captain quickly stuffed the bone whistle into his mouth, blew it sharply and quickly, and shouted vaguely.

"Toot, stab! Toot, withdraw! Toot, stab! Toot, withdraw!"

The spear warriors in the front row held off the charging enemy, while the spear militiamen in the second and third rows thrust their spears through the gaps in the front row, penetrated the soft bodies, and then pulled them out neatly. The spear militiamen in the fourth and fifth rows raised their spears high, resting them on the shoulders of the front row, and mechanically stabbed downward from the upper side, some stabbing into the enemy's head, some piercing through the thin neck, and more stabbing into nothing. Behind the fifth row, the sixth and seventh rows raised their shields as required to defend against the rain of arrows that did not exist, while the militiamen further back pressed their chests against their chests, exerted their strength with their feet, and pushed forward together.

Guzman was behind the fifth row. As a squad leader, he kept looking ahead, watching groups of militiamen rushing in, groups of them being blocked by the gun array, and then being stabbed to death by spears from different angles, making a series of distorted howls. Then, these gradually cold bodies, with still warm blood flowing, died without resistance, without causing any harm. They were either hung on spears or fell directly to the ground, and soon they were motionless, just like the turkeys that were slaughtered and skewered in batches during the New Year.

"It seems that I haven't tasted the taste of turkey yet. Is it the same fishy smell?"

The former gold miner licked his lips unconsciously and tasted the blood splashing. Then, he shuddered deeply, his face blank after the killing.

The Spear Corps maintained an unusual silence, fighting mechanically in silence. Silence is the habit of the Corps, which facilitates the captain's command. The new soldiers stabbed out their spears, slowly and effectively killed the enemy, and completed the collective killing without even seeing the other party's face.

Guzman felt the morale of his teammates, looked at their somewhat straight eyes, and felt the same confusion as himself. This was the first time for everyone to participate in a large-scale field battle, the first time to engage in large-scale fighting, life and death were in an instant! He felt the silent atmosphere of the phalanx and felt that he had to do something!

The young captain thought quickly and blew the bone whistle hurriedly.

"Toot! Priest, speak, sing!"

The priest in the middle of the phalanx was not very old, and was pushing his companions forward with force. Hearing the captain's call, he was stunned for a moment, and sang two memorized chants as soon as he opened his mouth.

"God Huitzilopochtli is the highest and greatest, and he is omnipotent! Believers in God are saved and ascend to the Kingdom of God! Praise God! He gives us food, and we will fight for Him!"

Hearing the familiar prayer, the spear militiamen gradually regained some vitality. The militiamen stabbed out their spears and killed strange enemies while chanting.

"Be saved and ascend to the Kingdom of God! Praise God and fight for Him!"

The fierce confrontation seemed to last only a moment, and it seemed to have passed for a long time. It was not until the enemy in front of him suddenly cried out and turned around and fled that Guzman suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. He stared blankly at the corpses on the ground in front of the battle, and at the teammates in front who were dyed red. He stood for a moment and then murmured.

"I am saved, I ascend to the Kingdom of God. I praise God, and I fight for Him"

Then, the war drums sounded again from the back, and Guzman stood up suddenly and put the bone whistle into his mouth again.

"Toot toot! Forward, forward!"

Under the banner of "Black Wolf", Xiu Luote stood solemnly on the high platform, looking at the front line of fierce fighting.

The spear phalanx did not disappoint him. The tightly-formed phalanx faced the loose enemy militia, and almost completely crushed them without any injuries, even with fewer casualties than the warriors! Soon, the Chapala militia in front of the formation retreated, and the spear phalanx moved forward at a snail's pace again, but it had the power to break everything!

Under the flat shooting of arrows, the stabbing of the spear formation, and the assault of the warriors, 12,000 Chapala militias suffered heavy casualties, and their morale dropped rapidly. They had already collapsed several formations, and lost more than 4,000 people. Dense corpses were scattered in front of the two armies, and were kicked to both sides by the warriors and militia. On the blood-stained grass, the spears and war sticks moved forward alternately, defeating the enemy militia again and again.

The last wave of two thousand militiamen rushed to the front of the battle formation, throwing a wave of javelins with great force, killing and wounding dozens of Mexica warriors. Then, the warriors of the Holy City shouted, and a short and fierce battle took place. In less than half a quarter of an hour, two or three hundred militiamen fell to the ground, beaten into different pieces by war sticks. The gun formations on both sides slowly approached again, and the Chapala militiamen shouted in fear, then suddenly collapsed and fled to the army formation behind.

The Chapala warriors waved their flags and bronze spears, and guided them loudly, leading the militiamen to the back of the hill, where they gathered in formation. The warrior battle formations of both sides gradually approached, like a long snake, and in a blink of an eye they were within a hundred steps!

Xiuluot watched the development of the battle situation without blinking. Soon, he waved the spear flag in his hand vigorously, and a short conch sound was blown, followed by a loud trumpet.

The Mexica warriors stopped one by one. They erected tall shields, lowered their sturdy helmets, and were only fifty or sixty steps away from the enemy in front. The archers in the rear followed closely behind, panting and starting to shoot upwards. In just a moment, a dense wave of arrows rose from the front of the enemy formation and stabbed at the "Feather" general flag on the hill!

Looking at the oncoming rain of arrows, "Feather" Peng Guali's pupils shrank, and he immediately squatted down and hid behind the shield of the guards. Then, he realized that something was wrong, naturally stood up, and looked down calmly. He was at the highest point of the hill, wearing a commander's uniform with a leather armor inside, surrounded by guards holding shields for defense, and there was no need to fear the opponent's rain of arrows.

Sure enough, this wave of arrows passed through the inclined traces, and most of them shot into the front formation of the tightly defended warriors, only shooting down dozens of Chapala warriors. The long feather arrows came "swoosh" and nailed on the raised shields, making a dull "doo" sound, mixed with the "puff" sound of hitting the flesh and the screams of the seriously injured.

Only a few hundred short crossbow arrows could rise high enough to attack the more densely packed warriors in the rear. The short and thick crossbow arrows "swoosh" passed by, crossed the commander's flag, and deeply nailed into the big shields of the guards. Occasionally, a crossbow arrow would pass through the gap and pierce the head and face of the guards diagonally, bringing down one or two unlucky family warriors.

Peng Guali looked at the crossbow arrows whizzing past his head, his body stagnated slightly, and his expression changed. He took a shield from the guards, covered it in front of him, and then quietly moved two steps away from the commander's flag.

Then, the "feather" commander looked at the front of the formation and frowned deeply. The Mexica had 4,000 densely packed pike phalanxes on each wing, which easily routed the charging militia with few casualties. This phalanx was similar to the pike corps formed by King Suanga, but was significantly better equipped.

Peng Guali pondered for a moment and saw that the opponent was within the extreme shooting range of fifty or sixty steps, then he waved his staff and pointed forward.

Soon, the militia archers on both sides received the order and fired a wave of volleys of feather arrows. Four thousand simple wooden arrows pierced the sky, hitting the dense phalanx of spears like raindrops, inserting into their uncovered cheeks, knocking down dozens of militiamen in an instant. Screams rang out next to him, and Guzman hurriedly lowered his head and blew the whistle in his mouth.

"Dudu! Raise your shield, lower your head!"

Upon hearing the order, the militiamen in the front raised their shields overhead, and the militiamen in the rear covered the left and right sides. The spears of the spear array were raised, and the militiamen lowered their heads. The second wave of feather arrows arrived as expected, but only caused sporadic casualties. Two more rounds of arrow rain struck, and the Mexica crossbowmen at the rear were not polite and responded with another round of longbows. The powerful feather arrows suddenly rose and fell, piercing into the hands of the civilian militia archers. In an instant, there were one or two hundred casualties, and there was a sudden howl on the hill!

Seeing the effect of the bow and arrow, "Feather" Pengguari cursed in a low voice, showing indignation.

"The super long bow, the super long horizontal bow, the ignited rockets are now equipped with armor, shields and helmets for the militiamen! How rich is the Mexica Valley?!"

Feather arrows struck again, knocking down all the surrounding archers, and screams surrounded their ears. Commander "Feather" waved his hands impatiently, and the guards carried the bronze spears over to silence all the noise. Then, he waved the flag again. On both sides, personal guards with five hundred large shields came over to protect the archers who were shooting at each other, and at the same time strictly supervise the battle.

Then Penguari observed the Mexica legions. Seeing that the arrow rain was sparse again, he finally showed a satisfied smile. When he was at the river mouth fortress, he tried the Mexica longbow and knew the shortcomings of this kind of big bow. Although the longbow has a long range and is powerful, the arrows are very expensive to make. They must have strong wooden arrow shafts and expensive feathers. For such a heavy bow, ordinary arrows are simply unfit for use!

"As long as I use up all your arrows, I will no longer be afraid!"

Peng Guali smiled confidently. Immediately, his smile suddenly froze and he looked forward in confusion. In front of the military formation of the two armies, the Mexicans held torches, rolled out two pieces of wood with copper hoops, and pointed the opening at themselves!

^_^