Aztec Eternals

"Aztec Eternal (

The long wind howled, blowing the miserable howls of the battlefield. The sun was shining brightly, illuminating the crimson fight.

Looking down from the sky, the two huge legions made a terrifying cry, forming a dense formation like an ant colony. The Chapala Corps occupied the well-placed hills, 10,000 warriors were firmly stationed up and down the hills, 4,000 militia archers prepared bows at the heights, and 12,000 militiamen in front of the formation attacked.

The harassing militiamen formed loose formations in waves of 2,000. Under the shooting of the longbow, they threw stones and spears, causing negligible casualties, and they were nailed to the front in batches, blood stained with red soil. From time to time, some militiamen screamed and retreated, were gathered by the warriors behind, and then forced to force them forward again!

Seeing this tragic scene, Shulot was expressionless. He watched the frantically dancing enemy priests on the hill, listened to the fanatical call of the pagan gods, and carefully observed the enemy. With the addition of religious ceremonies, the Chapala warriors on the hills looked calm, and were not shaken by the deaths and injuries 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 longbow, they directly use the lives of the militia to fill it!"

The young commander frowned, listening to the arrow reserves reported by the shooting corps, and nodded slightly. Soon, the dense rain of arrows gradually thinned out. After the longbow warriors retreated again, they recovered their arm strength and stopped shooting.

Then, the command flag in front of Shulot, the fierce drums of war sounded, and the battle formation of the samurai slowly attacked.

Under the cover of shields, the Mexica Legion marches steadily forward, destroying all enemies that stand in its way! The phalanx of spears erected hedgehog-like spears, and the Quds Force raised their shields like river turtles. Under the harassment of the enemy militia, they moved calmly and firmly amid the blows of javelins and slings. Soon, the Chapala militiamen at the forefront finished throwing the javelin in their hands, waving stone hammers and stone spears, bursting out with frantic shouts and rushing forward.

The spear captain Guzman was wearing paper armor and a rattan helmet, standing in front of the center of the dense spear formation. He wore a shield in his left hand, covering his left companion, and held a spear in his right hand, resting on the shoulders of his former companion. The crowd was crowded, shoulder to shoulder, gun on gun, slowly moving forward. From time to time a rain of arrows roared overhead, and slings and javelins flew over, hitting the sturdy rattan helmets and thick shields. The sling is ineffective, but the javelin is somewhat dangerous. Occasionally someone made a scream and fell to the ground with a thud, but they couldn't see where they were and couldn't see anything clearly.

Guzman sniffed his nose and smelled the thick and indissoluble blood, mixed with the sweat of his partners. His feet were sticky, and from time to time he would step on something soft, and some would move. But he couldn't stop or look around. He can only look at the enemy directly in front of him through a limited perspective, directing the gun formation to move forward, forward, and forward again!

Once the pike phalanx moves, it will not stop. Nearly half a year of rigorous training has made everyone's movements instinctive and cohesive as a whole. 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 spear, and finally saw a twisted and screaming face, which quickly enlarged in front of him!

At this moment, Guzman's mind went blank, and nothing could be heard in his ears. He continued to command the phalanx of spears in a daze, until the speed of the phalanx stopped and slammed into something!

A shrill scream resounded in his ears, awakening Guzman, who was in a trance. He opened his eyes and looked in front of him. There were five layers of spears protruding out of the front of the square. At this time, a layer of corpses had been strung together! No, the string on the spear is not a corpse, at most a future corpse. They were still struggling and shaking, still screaming, still bleeding and crying, and then they were squeezed deeper by the people behind until they were completely silent.

Seeing this tragic scene, Guzman shuddered. The phalanx stopped moving, and he had already attached to his partner in the front row, pushing the person in front to move forward, and the person in the back also pushing him. Then, under the inertia of long-term training, he suddenly remembered his responsibilities. So, the young captain hurriedly stuffed the bone whistle into his mouth, and shouted vaguely while blowing sharply and hurriedly.

"Dudu, thorn! Dudu, close!... Dudu, thorn! Dudu, close!..."

The spear warriors in the front row stubbornly resisted the attacking enemy, while the second and third rows of spear militiamen stabbed spears from the gaps in the front row, penetrated into the soft body, and pulled them out neatly. The fourth and fifth platoons of pike militiamen held their spears high, mounted on the shoulders of the front row, and stabbed mechanically from diagonally above, some pierced the enemy's head, some pierced the thin neck, and more. It is stabbed empty. Five rows further back, the sixth and seventh rows raised their shields as required to defend against the rain of arrows that did not yet exist, and the militiamen further back pressed their chests against their chests, pressing their feet hard and pushing forward together.

Guzman is behind the fifth row. As the team leader, he kept looking ahead, watching groups of militiamen pouring in, blocked by spear formations, and then stabbed to death by spears from different angles, making a scream. Afterwards, these gradually icy bodies, flowing with warm blood, died weakly without causing any harm. They were either hanging on spears, or fell to the ground, and soon became motionless, like turkeys being slaughtered in batches during the festival.

"Like, I haven't tasted turkey yet...is that the same fishy smell?"

The former gold miner unconsciously licked his lips and tasted the splashed blood. Afterwards, he shivered deeply, with a murderous look on his face.

The spear corps kept an unusual silence, fighting mechanically in silence. Silence is the habit of the Legion, and it is convenient for the captain's order to be conveyed. The new troops thrust out their spears, killing the enemy slowly and efficiently, completing the mass killing without even seeing the opponent's face.

Guzman felt the morale of his teammates, looked at their straight eyes, and felt the same daze as himself. This is the first time everyone has participated in a large-scale field battle, the first large-scale battle, and life and death are in an instant! He felt the atmosphere of the phalanx and felt that he had to do something!

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

"Dudu! Priest, talk, sing!"

The priest with the army in the middle is not too old, and is pushing his partner forward with force. Hearing the captain's call, he was stunned for a while, and then he sang two familiar recitations.

"The Lord God Huitzilopochtli is supreme and omnipotent! Those who believe in God will be rescued and ascended to the kingdom of God! Praise the Lord God! He gives us food, and we will fight for Him!"

Hearing the familiar prayer, the pike militiamen gradually regained some vigor. The militiamen stabbed their spears and killed the unfamiliar enemy, while chanting.

"Get rescued and ascend to the kingdom of God! Praise the Lord God and fight for Him!"

The fierce confrontation seemed to last only a moment, and it seemed like a long time had passed. It wasn't until the enemy in front of him suddenly cried out and then turned around to break up that Guzman suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. He stared blankly at the corpses on the ground in front of the formation, looked at the teammates in front that were dyed red, stood still for a moment, and then murmured.

"I am saved, I ascend to the kingdom of God...I praise the Lord God, I fight for him..."

Then, the drums of war sounded from behind again, and Guzman stood up abruptly and put the bone whistle into his mouth again.

"Dududu! Forward, forward!"

Under the banner of "Black Wolf", Shulot stood on the high platform and looked at the front line of the fierce battle.

The pike phalanx did not disappoint him. The tightly-formed phalanx faced the loose enemy militia, and it was almost completely crushed without injury, even fewer casualties than the samurai! Soon, the Chapala militia in front of the formation smashed back, and the pike phalanx moved forward again, but it had the power to break everything!

Under the flat fire of arrows, the assassination of spear formations, and the assault of the samurai, 12,000 Chapala militiamen suffered heavy casualties and their morale dropped rapidly. They have already collapsed several times and lost more than 4,000 people. The dense corpses were scattered all over the front of the two armies, and they were kicked to both sides by the samurai and militiamen. On the blood-stained grass, spears and clubs continued to advance, crushing the enemy militia again and again.

The last wave of 2,000 militiamen rushed to the front and violently threw a wave of javelins, killing and injuring dozens of Mexican warriors. Then, the warriors of the holy city let out a cry and engaged in a short and fierce engagement. Within a quarter of an hour, two or three hundred militiamen fell to the ground. The gun formations on both sides slowly approached again, and the Chapala militiamen let out a cry of fear, then suddenly collapsed and fled to the army formation behind.

The warriors of Chapala waved their flags and led loudly, leading the militias to the rear of the hill, where they continued to gather. The warrior formations on both sides are gradually approaching, approaching each other like long snakes, and they are approaching within a hundred paces in a blink of an eye!

Shulot watched the development of the battle without blinking an instant. Soon, he waved the spear and flag in his hand vigorously, and a short snail sound was blown, followed by a loud horn.

The Mexica warriors stopped one after another. They erected tall shields, lowered sturdy helmets, and were only seventy paces away from the enemy in front of them. The archers in the rear line followed closely, gasping for breath, and started firing again. But in a moment, a dense rain of arrows rose from the front of the enemy's line and plunged into the "feather" handsome flag on the hill!

Seeing the arrow rain coming in, "Feather" Peng Guali's pupils shrank, subconsciously crouched down, and hid behind the guard's shield. Immediately, he realized that something was wrong, stood up again, and looked down calmly~www.readwn.com~ He is located at the highest point of the hill, wearing a commander's uniform with a leather armor inside, surrounded by It is a personal guard holding a shield to defend, in fact, there is no need to fear the enemy's arrow rain.

Sure enough, this wave of arrows swept across the sloping traces, and most of them were shot into the front line of the heavily defended warriors, but only dozens of Chapala warriors were shot down. The slender feathered arrow "咻咻" hit, nailed to the shield held high, making a dull "duo" sound, occasionally mixed with the sound of "puchi" entering the flesh, and the pain of severe injuries.

Only a few hundred short crossbow bolts could rise high enough to attack the denser rear formation of the warriors. The stubby crossbow arrows "swish, swish" across the flag of the commander-in-chief, and deeply nailed into the great shields of the guards. Occasionally, a crossbow arrow would pass through the gap and slant into the head and face of the guard, bringing down one or two unfortunate family warriors.

Peng Guali watched the crossbow arrow roaring past his head, his body stagnant slightly, and the expression on his face changed. Immediately, he took a shield from his personal guard, covered it in front of him, and silently moved two steps away from the flag of the coach.

Commander "Feather" looked towards the front of the formation, frowning deeply. The two flanks of the Mexicans had a dense phalanx of 4,000 spears, which easily defeated the onslaught militia, with few casualties. This phalanx is similar to the spear team formed by King Suangwa, but with much better equipment.

Peng Guali pondered for a while, and when he saw that the opponent was within the extreme shooting distance of fifty steps, he waved his divine staff and pointed forward.

Soon, the militia archers on both sides received the order and fired a volley of feather arrows. Four thousand simple wooden arrows pierced through the sky, struck like raindrops in the dense phalanx of spears, inserted into the uncovered cheeks, and instantly knocked down more than a dozen militiamen. Thinking of a scream beside him, Guzman hurriedly lowered his head and blew the whistle in his mouth.

"dudu,"