Chapter 46 40. Fierce Ghost

Then, the cavalryman saw a flag with blood-stained red on it. This would be the most impressive flag in his life.

He screamed strangely, pulled the reins, turned the horse around, and ran towards his camp.

While running, he yelled at the soldiers guarding the gate on the other side of the camp.

When the soldiers in the camp saw his appearance, they quickly blew their horns as if they were waking up from a dream.

The horn sounded, and the deep sound hit the eardrums of every soldier.

They all picked up the weapons at hand and mounted their horses. The sound of the horn could only mean one thing, and that was an enemy attack.

The curtain of the camp was opened, and the tall blond general walked out. Looking at the panic of the soldiers running around preparing for battle, he shouted angrily, reached out and pulled out a sharp Western sword from his waist, with a cold light flashing. The blade of the sword reflected the desolate coastline behind him.

With the general's command, the preparations for the battle were also extremely fast. Soon a group of soldiers were already lined up in front of the formation, holding guns in their hands and pointing their guns at the galloping cavalry outside the camp.

The distance between the two armies has reached a point where they can see each other clearly, that is to say, they have entered the shooting range. In the eyes of the foreign army, the cavalry was like a black tide, rushing towards them. The armor on their bodies was extremely heavy just by looking at it. Every step forward of the war horses was accompanied by a deafening sound, like the roar of the waves. go ahead.

They held long spears in their hands, pointing directly at the camp. The spear was all pitch black, and there was a slender blood groove on the tip. You could even imagine being stabbed and bleeding.

The cavalry hadn't charged in with all their strength, but the loud noise had already made these Western soldiers retreat, and cold sweat broke out in their hands holding the guns.

They never imagined that these tens of thousands of cavalry were actually wearing heavy iron armor that covered almost their whole bodies. The gunfire of this era was simply not enough to penetrate such thick armor at such a distance.

But now the arrow was on the string and had to be fired. As the cavalry entered the shooting range, the Western soldiers pulled the trigger.

"Bang bang!" Gunfire spread, bullets pierced the sky and shot like a dark wave.

"Clang, clang, clang!" Collisions sounded one after another, and the bullets rubbed the armor and splashed sparks, but few of them could penetrate the heavy armor of the cavalry, and they did not even affect the speed of the cavalry.

The Western soldier was stunned for a moment. He even forgot about the rope that he had set up to trip the horse before, and couldn't help but step back.

The Western officer standing in the camp also looked ahead blankly. What he saw was the dark cavalry and the particularly conspicuous flying red flag. This was an almost invincible army.

That's Chinese.

"hiss!!!!"

With the sound of war horses neighing, the cavalry stepped in front of the camp.

A war horse rushed at the front, leaping high and stepping over the fence.

The Western soldiers in the camp raised their heads and looked at the figure on horseback.

It was a man wearing heavy armor. Unlike the other soldiers, he actually carried a dark coffin behind him! There was a ferocious mask on his face, only a pair of golden pupils shining like lava were revealed, looking down at each of them, with a ferocious smile on the mask as ferocious as an evil ghost, and the coffin on his back seemed to be prepared for them.

He broke through the fence and used a pitch-black spear, the tip of which shone with a dark golden light. He swept the soldiers blocking him away with one shot, and blood spattered onto his mask, like a bloodthirsty devil.

Everything seemed to tell them that it was not like a person, but a messenger from the Nine Nether Hells, launching judgment on them.

The man raised his spear high and roared, directly defeating their last courage.

"Kill! No mercy!"

Amidst the sound of horse hooves, Xuan Hao rushed into the camp.

In the eyes of others, he looked like a god of murder. Every time he swung his spear, blood would splash out. The blood splashed on his mask and slid down along the lines, adding a bit of chill to the ferocious mask.

In an instant, the cavalry had completely rushed into the camp.

The hands of the Western soldiers holding their weapons could not help but tremble. They looked at the Chinese with ghostly faces in the distance and did not dare to step forward. They had completely lost the will to fight.

Suddenly, a soldier saw clearly the spear in the man's hand and the coffin slung across his back. It was a pitch-black spear with a faint golden tip. The coffin was much smaller than the ordinary one, and it was covered with dense unknown patterns, as if it contained evil ghosts.

His pupils shrank sharply, as if he remembered something, and he pointed at the spear with trembling fingers and almost screamed miserably: "Ghost! Ghost!"

For a moment, a group of Western soldiers looked at this man in horror.

This is a legend that has been circulating in the war in recent years. There is one thing on the border that I absolutely do not want to mention, and it is about this man carrying a coffin.

According to legend, this man would kill everyone who stepped into his territory, whether they were soldiers or opium dealers.

At first, some smugglers who sneaked into the country disappeared inexplicably.

But once, this man wiped out an entire army of nearly a thousand people, single-handedly.

Later, they didn't know whether the man let him go on purpose or if someone escaped by chance and came back to report, and they learned about it.

When I went back to investigate again, all I saw was the blood-stained ground and a large area of ​​severed limbs. The scene was simply hell.

Since then, they have greatly reduced their crossing the line, and the black spears and coffins are the marks of death.

The man in front of them was clearly the "god of death" that made them frightened.

The screaming soldier's hands trembled, as if something was holding his throat. His legs were shaking, and an unknown liquid flowed between his legs. His legs softened, and he knelt on the ground crying.

"Cang!" With a loud sound, the Western sword broke instantly, and a long spear was swung and stabbed down.

The blond officer sat down on the ground, not daring to move at all, because a long gun was placed in front of him.

The slightest bit of cold air coming from the tip of the gun made him raise his head in fright. What he saw was the blazing golden eyes under the ferocious mask that seemed to be burning everything, and the mask that smiled ferociously, as if it were mocking him.

He was about to stab with a spear.

"Oh, no! No, no, no! Don't kill me, please, please!" He collapsed on the ground, shouting in a panic in vague Chinese.

The spear stopped between his eyebrows, just a hair away. He could even feel the coldness on the tip of the spear and the slight sting on his forehead. Drops of cold sweat dripped down, and his breathing became rapid.

"Can you speak Chinese?" The masked man on horseback asked.

The officer was so frightened that he nodded repeatedly: "Yes, yes, a little bit."

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