The dense and heavy gunfire sounded, and the Ross musketeers who were moving forward fell in groups. They held the Ivan-style rifle, but they fell to the ground without having time to fire it.

This time, Yankoff saw clearly that in the Northern Legion's position, more than a dozen thick guns were spewing fire snakes, and the Ross fell in large numbers where they pointed.

Many Ross soldiers were beaten into sieve before they could figure out the situation, and their faces were filled with horror when they fell down.

What kind of weapon is this? It is even more terrifying than the sickle of the God of Death.

"Marson! Let the soldiers retreat! They are all elites of the Ross Empire!" A general couldn't help but step forward and said.

"This..., good..." Yankoff hesitated. He finally approached the Northern Legion's position, and it was really reluctant to retreat like this.

Before he could express his good words, he was interrupted by Kirimerk: "Marson! No! The Orientals' continuous fire muskets are indeed powerful, but the consumption of bullets must be huge.

Those muskets cannot keep firing. It is our chance to wait until they empty the bullets!"

"Yes! Yes! Continue to attack, and launch another 10,000 people to attack, and suppress the Easterners no matter what!" Yankf suddenly realized when he heard this. He was scared by the fire-breathing gun, and only realized after Kirimerk said it.

With such a high rate of fire, the bullet consumption will definitely be extremely huge. When their bullets are consumed completely, it will be the moment when the Ross soldiers show their power.

The general who had previously advocated retreat said anxiously: "Marson! Those who are all elites of the empire, how can they be used to consume bullets for nothing?"

Yankoff's face sank upon hearing this, and said, "General Popolov! Are you questioning my order?"

"No..., no!" Popolov quickly lowered his head and retreated, but his eyes showed a deep sense of worry.

The heavy gunshots continued, and the Ross people suffered casualties every moment. The killing lasted for a quarter of an hour before it ended. The last heavy gunshot disappeared, and Yankf waved his arms excitedly.

"Occurrence! Brave soldiers! Attack with all their might!"

The suppressed soldiers had just got a chance to breathe and heard the horn of the attack, and they had to reorganize their teams and move forward.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

"Chee..."

Guns were heard in the Northern Legion's positions, and mortars kept ringing. With the cooperation of the two weapons, the casualties of the Ross did not decrease much.

The bodies were piled up in front of the northern legion positions, and a moment later, the soldiers of the Ross Empire even needed to crawl through their companions' bodies before they could continue to move forward.

But they still did not give up. Compared with the terrifying fire rate weapon just now, the pressure now is nothing.

Just as the Ross was tenaciously approaching the Northern Legion, heavy gunfire sounded again.

"Ka! Da! Da!"

The Fire Snake sprayed the dead bullet again, and no Ross could stand still wherever he passed.

Under the terrifying strafing, the Ross people collapsed. They no longer dared to move forward, and turned around and ran away one by one. But this was not the end. More than a dozen fire snakes spit out, and bullets drilled into the Ross people's backs and opened a huge blood hole in their chests.

In just under half an hour of attack, the Ross was defeated in panic. This time, even the guards who supervised the battle were not taken action, and the surviving soldiers were allowed to roll and crawl back.

"God! Save me! It's so scary, I don't want to go there again!"

"Lord, please punish the evil Orientals! They have borrowed a scythe from the god of death and are harvesting the lives of your believers!"

"Mom! I'm going home!"

...

The soldiers who escaped were almost broken, and shouted in the team without listening to anyone's dissuasion.

Yankoff's face looked very ugly when he heard the messy sounds, especially when he heard the casualties reported by the officers, water almost dripped from his face.

There were 13,000 people, but before he could react, the casualties were so huge. His army would be exhausted a few more times.

What exactly are those? Are they really the sickles of the god of death?

"Go back to camp!"

Yankoff gave the order coldly and turned around and left the first time. The officers and generals looked at each other and sighed and followed behind.

...

"Bang!"

The sound of heavy objects falling to the ground sounded, and then Yankoff's roar came from the tent.

"Get out! Get out of here!"

A guard with a deformed silver dining plate in his hand, he retreated from the tent in panic.

Seeing Kirimerk outside, he saluted respectfully: "Master Kirimerk! The Marshal hasn't eaten for a day. If he continues like this, his body..."

Kirimerk nodded and said, "Okay! Go and rest! Yankoff lost his temper with you because the war is not going well. I hope you don't take it wrong!"

The guards almost burst into tears when they heard Kirimerk's words. Compared with the irritable and moody Yankoff, he was more willing to chat with Kirimerk.

He stood attentively and said, "You are kind to you, Lord Kirimerk, it is my honor to serve Lord Marshal. How can I blame you?"

Kirimerk nodded, signaled the guards to go down, and walked into the tent himself. As soon as he walked in, a wine bag flew out of it.

"Get out! I said, no one is allowed to disturb me!" Yankf's angry voice came.

Kirimerk reached out to catch the wine bag, put it gently on the table, and said, "Yankoff! Do you forget your dreams, forget the humiliation you have suffered, and don't want to defeat the Easterners, and you will avenge your previous shame?"

"Well? Kirimerk, you are here. Of course I want to defeat the Orientals and return the humiliation I have suffered a hundred times and a thousand times!

But you also saw that the Orientals have the Grim Reaper scythe. We are not opponents at all, so why should we take revenge? You say! You say!" Yankoff walked to Kirimerk slightly drunk and said with his scarlet eyes.

Kirimerk did not retreat this time and looked at Yankoff and said, "Yankoff! Have you forgotten what I said? Weapons have never been the key to determining the outcome of a war. As long as you unite and defeat the Easterners, it will no longer be difficult!"

"What? Are you saying?" Yankoff recovered a little sober and asked anxiously.

Kirimerk nodded with a smile and said, "That's right! We need to retreat in exchange for space and win. It's better to lose a game and let the Orientals catch up!"

Yankeff's eyes lit up when he heard this, and then he said with a fierce look on his eyes: "It's true that the invincible, how could the Orientals catch up with you!

If you pass the order, tomorrow the army will fight to the death with the Eastern people. If you don’t win, you will never withdraw your troops!”

In the 22nd year of Wanli, the second eastern expedition organized by the Ross people was defeated by the Jingbei Army outside Daming City. In this battle, the mortar and the first-hand Chinese heavy machine gun that the Jingbei Army made its debut surprised everyone.

In particular, heavy machine guns are simply killing machines, and are called the sickle of the god of death.
Chapter completed!