Love Lock

Chapter 373 Extra: Hua Tianyou and Zhao Ling'er

Before he could even utter the word "charge," a sudden change occurred!
Old Meng seemed to have anticipated that the attempt to recruit him would fail. He shook his head slightly, a hint of regret on his face.

Immediately, he decisively hung the electronic loudspeaker on the saddle, raised his right hand high, and then swung it forward sharply!
A simple and straightforward offensive gesture.

The thousands of Jingzhou soldiers standing behind him moved in perfect unison, as if they had practiced countless times.

They quickly took a strangely shaped "fire poker" from their backs and placed it against their shoulder armor.

The "fire poker" was entirely black, with a precise structure, and was definitely not any bow, crossbow, or long weapon these people had ever seen. This thing was none other than the M16 automatic rifle that Shen Daohong had been longing to see!

There were no thunderous war drums, no shouts of charge.

The next moment, a melody, completely different from any war sound of this era, resounded across the plain.

"Bang bang bang-!"

It wasn't sporadic firing, but a dense, continuous barrage of explosions that sent chills down your spine! Like thousands of stubborn stones pounding wildly against sheet metal.

Dozens of M16s simultaneously spewed out blazing tongues of fire, bullets raining down like a storm, forming a metallic tempest that poured towards the front lines of the Allied forces, those with the brightest armor and the most dazzling flags!

Distance? Faced with this terrifying barrage of bullets, the traditional range of crossbows becomes a joke.

Speed? The naked eye simply cannot capture that supersonic flying shuttle.

Power? Thick iron armor is as thin as paper in front of a 5.56mm steel-core bullet.

"Puff-puff-!"

The dull thud of bullets piercing human bodies, mixed with the soldiers' brief screams before their deaths and the mournful neighing of warhorses, created a poignant elegy for the end of the era of cold weapons.

On the front lines of the allied forces, men and horses fell in disarray!
The once orderly ranks were swept away as if by an invisible, gigantic scythe, instantly cutting down a large area! Blood splattered like ink, spreading large, glaring crimson patches on the withered autumn grass.

Those hit didn't even have time to react before falling in rows, many with more than one bullet hole in their bodies.

The death rate is terrifying!

The anger and murderous intent on Su Cheng and Yu Zhesheng's faces froze instantly, replaced by extreme shock, bewilderment, and a rapidly spreading, bone-deep fear!

They were mounted on horseback, positioned slightly behind the enemy lines, so the first wave of bullets didn't directly hit them. But they could clearly see their elite soldiers, whom they were so proud of, falling like harvested wheat, utterly helpless.

The dense, unprecedented explosions, the flashes of gun muzzles in the distance, the precise and brutal killings that could be carried out from such a distance...

All of this was completely beyond their comprehension.

"Demon... Demonic magic?!" Su Cheng's eyes widened, his voice trembled, his face was ashen, and his hand holding the reins shook violently.

Yu Zhesheng was slightly better off, but his pupils had shrunk to the size of pinpoints, and his whole body was ice-cold.

It turns out the rumors circulating outside were true.

Liangzhou is located behind Jingzhou, and is hundreds of miles closer to the capital than Yunzhou. He had long heard rumors that Zhao Zun always had some strange but powerful things around him... Could this be his reliance?

"Hold on! Shieldbearers! Front line, shields!" Su Cheng roared hoarsely, trying to reorganize the formation.

However, how long can those traditional shields withstand continuous fire from modern automatic rifles?

The second and third waves of bullets followed one after another.

"Bang bang bang-"

Some people were shot and fell to the ground screaming in agony, while others were bounced by the inertia of the bullet before collapsing to the ground.

The Jingzhou soldiers led by Lao Meng didn't even need complicated tactics; they simply stood there steadily, pulling the trigger and carrying out a one-sided massacre.

The bullets struck the shields hastily raised by the Allied forces, making muffled "thump, thump, thump" sounds; the metal twisted and was quickly pierced.

Panic spread like wildfire through the coalition forces.

The soldiers in the front row wanted to retreat, but the soldiers behind them were still confused and started pushing and trampling each other, causing chaos in the entire formation.

Shen Daohong stood beside Lao Meng, dumbfounded. All the heat in his body seemed to rush to his head, then instantly cooled down, leaving only a bone-chilling cold.

He witnessed a scene today that was a hundred times more shocking than the last rescue on the official road.

This... is the power of the M16 on the battlefield?
This is not war at all, this is... divine punishment! It is a complete subversion of the old era's war model! He subconsciously touched the ill-fitting leather armor on his body and felt a sense of absurdity and lingering fear.

Old Meng stared expressionlessly at the chaos and misery opposite him, his eyes showing no triumph, only a faint trace of pity.

After the third round of firing, hundreds of coalition soldiers had fallen instantly. Old Meng raised his hand to signal a halt to the shooting. He raised the electronic megaphone again, and its loud voice once more resounded across the battlefield, drowning out the screams of agony.

"Marshal Su! Marshal Yu! Do you still want to continue? His Majesty's patience is finite! Lay down your weapons now, and those who surrender will be spared!"

This time, his voice, to the allied forces, was no longer merely a plea for surrender, but a death knell from the deepest hell.

Looking at the hellish scene before him, at the soldiers whose morale had completely collapsed and who were running amok, and at Yu Zhesheng beside him who was pale and about to collapse from his horse, Su Cheng was gripped by a huge sense of powerlessness and despair.

All ambitions and resentments seem so laughable and so vulnerable in the face of this terrifying power that transcends comprehension.

Su Cheng's voice trembled violently, like a tattered cloth torn by a gale: "What...what kind of sorcery are you using?"

He rode on his frightened warhorse, his body swaying with the horse's uneasy pacing, his face as pale as paper.

This scion of a noble family, who always prided himself on his noble lineage, was now in such a sorry state that he looked like a stray dog, with only the stubborn flame of resentment still burning in his eyes.

Old Meng was not stingy. He calmly raised the electronic megaphone and responded to him in a calm voice: "This is called the M16 automatic rifle. Its range is several times that of bows and crossbows. Marshal Su, this is not sorcery. This is a national defense weapon bestowed upon us by His Majesty."

His voice was amplified by electronic devices and clearly transmitted across the battlefield, each word striking the hearts of the Allied soldiers like a heavy hammer blow.

The battlefield was filled with the smell of gunpowder and blood, and the groans of wounded soldiers rose and fell, creating an eerie contrast with Lao Meng's calm tone.

Su Cheng was actually terrified, but he was unwilling to accept it. He came from a prestigious family, and his bloodline was many times more noble than Zhao Zun's. Even if Zhao Zun had a demonic artifact to rely on, the throne was not for Zhao Zun to sit on; it had to be Su Cheng who sat on it.

At that moment, his gaze was fixed on the Jingzhou army formation opposite him, and he suddenly noticed a crucial detail. Only about fifty men in the front row were wielding those black "demonic weapons," while the rest of the soldiers were still equipped with traditional swords and sabers.

In other words, the enemy doesn't have many of these demonic weapons. The allied forces have brought 100,000 troops this time; if they all attack at once, he doesn't believe they can't defeat a few thousand of the enemy.

This discovery was like a shot in the arm for Su Cheng. Since he was determined to compete with other heroes, he had to go all out. How could he be scared off by a few dozen demonic weapons?

Thinking of this, he involuntarily straightened his back, and his voice regained some of its former authority.

Su Cheng roared, "Zhao Zun is a traitor, plotting to usurp the throne! All soldiers, listen to my command!" He drew his sword sharply, the tip pointing straight to the sky. "Their demonic weapons are limited. With our 100,000 troops, even if we have to use a sea of ​​people to fill this battlefield, we will flatten it! Cavalry, prepare to charge! Infantry, follow closely behind! Charge through them, and trample them to death!"

His voice echoed across the empty plain, but it was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, creating only a few faint ripples before disappearing without a trace.

A deathly silence fell over the allied ranks. Soldiers, who had been covering their heads and dodging, looked at each other, their feet involuntarily taking a step back. The bloody massacre was still vivid in their minds; piles of corpses ahead were still bleeding profusely. Who wanted to be the next to fall?
"Charge! Anyone who disobeys will be punished according to military law!" Su Cheng roared hoarsely, veins bulging on his forehead.

Su Cheng's encouragement made Yu Zhesheng turn his head sharply, his eyes revealing undisguised contempt as if he were looking at an idiot, and even more so, anger that said, "If you want to die, don't drag me down with you."

He lowered his voice and said through gritted teeth, "Su Cheng, are you crazy? Didn't you see what happened just now? Is the power of that thing something that flesh and blood can withstand?"

Yu Zhesheng's Liangzhou army was located on the right flank of the allied forces and suffered relatively minor damage in the recent hail of bullets. However, this only made him more aware of the vast disparity in strength between the two sides.

He gripped the reins tightly, his knuckles white from the force, his eyes warily glancing at the dark gun barrels opposite him, fearing that Su Cheng's mad words would provoke another wave of devastating attacks. "Yu Zhesheng! Are you also going to betray the Allied Forces?" Su Cheng's eyes widened in anger, his sword almost pointing at his ally beside him.

Yu Zhesheng did not answer, but gave him a cold glare, while secretly making a gesture to his personal guards, signaling them to get ready.

Old Meng, who was observing the enemy camp with binoculars, took in everything. He did not order to fire, but instead raised the electronic loudspeaker again.

This time, his voice softened considerably, carrying a tone of earnest persuasion:

"Allied soldiers, please hear me out."

The enemy's chaotic ranks suddenly fell silent, with only the sound of the wind and the groans of the wounded remaining. All the soldiers involuntarily pricked up their ears.

"I know that many of you joined the army just to earn a living and support your families," Old Meng's voice came through the loudspeaker, carrying a rare sincerity. "But how did the previous court treat you? They withheld your pay, treated human life like dirt, while the powerful and wealthy indulged in debauchery in the capital, you suffered hunger and hardship on the frontier!"

These words acted like a key, unlocking the long-suppressed resentment in the soldiers' hearts.

A commotion broke out in the queue again; some people nodded secretly, while others exchanged furtive glances.

"But our Emperor is different from those incompetent rulers!" Old Meng's voice suddenly rose. "As soon as His Majesty ascended the throne, he implemented benevolent policies, reduced taxes, and rectified official corruption! Most importantly, His Majesty himself was a soldier and knows the hardships of soldiers, so he loves his soldiers like his own children and never mistreats the soldiers who serve him!"

Old Meng paused for a moment, waiting for his words to take hold in the soldiers' minds, before continuing:
"His Majesty has decreed that all are subjects of the Great Jing Dynasty, and he does not wish to commit further bloodshed. Those who lay down their weapons and surrender now will be spared death; those who wish to continue serving in the army will receive preferential treatment; those who wish to return home to farm will be provided with travel expenses! Those who resist stubbornly—"

Old Meng's voice suddenly turned cold, like the north wind in winter: "Then don't blame us for being impolite. His Majesty's decree is very clear: if we can offer amnesty, we will; if not... we'll cripple you!"

The words "crippled" struck the hearts of every Allied soldier like a heavy hammer. They recalled the terrifying storm of metal they had just witnessed; the meaning of "crippled" was crystal clear.

Silence, a deathly silence, enveloped the battlefield.

Suddenly, a sharp "clang" broke the suffocating silence.

A young soldier with a childlike face threw away his spear, the sound of the weapon hitting the ground particularly jarring in the silence.

He cried out in a trembling voice, "I...I want to go home and farm. My mother is waiting for me at home..."

As he spoke, he stumbled and ran toward the Jingzhou army camp.

"Halt! Traitor!" Su Cheng's personal guard captain roared, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow.

But with just a glance from Lao Meng, a soldier holding an M16 immediately raised his gun and fired accurately with a "bang." Before the arrow even left the bowstring, the captain's helmet was knocked off, and he collapsed to the ground in fright, his crotch instantly soaked.

This shot stunned everyone who still wanted to prevent the surrender.

The entire room fell silent for a moment.

Seeing that the young soldier ran to the enemy camp and just stood there panting heavily, the enemy camp did not make things difficult for him.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Immediately, the sounds of weapons hitting the ground began to ring out one after another, starting sporadically, then becoming more and more frequent, and finally merging into a symphony of metal.

The allied soldiers, like a flood bursting its banks, threw down their weapons and began rushing in droves towards the Jingzhou army's camp.

"Come back! All of you, come back to me!" Su Cheng steered his somewhat frightened warhorse with one hand and frantically waved his sword with the other, but he could not stop the collapsing torrent. "Anyone who deserts in the face of battle will be executed immediately! Their entire family will be exterminated! Do you hear me? All of you, come back to me!"

But his threats seemed particularly weak in the face of the fear of death and the hope of survival.

The soldiers walked around his horse, and no one even glanced at him.

Yu Zhesheng's warhorse was also startled and spun around on the spot. He sat on the warhorse and looked at the scene of the army's collapse before him, his expression changing constantly.

Seeing that his soldiers were about to all run away, Yu Zhesheng became anxious.

He had clearly seen the power of that demonic weapon, and he had also clearly heard the contents of the imperial edict.

Crippled?

That's not crippling.
That would mean they'd kill you outright!

He didn't have Su Cheng's illustrious family background, nor did he possess Su Cheng's ambition. He had no intention of going crazy with that idiot Su Cheng!
Old Meng is right. Anyway, they are all subjects of Da Jing. It doesn't matter which emperor he serves. Yu Zhesheng rolled his eyes, glanced at Su Cheng who looked like a madman, and then looked at the Jingzhou army that was standing ready in front of him, especially the M16 rifles that gleamed coldly in the sunlight. Finally, he made up his mind.

“Brother Su, I’m sorry. I don’t want to go crazy with you.” Yu Zhesheng muttered to himself, then suddenly jerked the reins and shouted, “Brothers of Liangzhou, lay down your weapons and we surrender! We are all citizens of Dajing, why kill each other! His Majesty also said that he will treat us well.”

With that, he threw away his sword and, along with his remaining personal guards and generals, headed towards the Jingzhou army camp.

His actions were decisive and swift, as if he were afraid that if he hesitated even a step, he would change his mind or be implicated by Su Cheng's madness.

"Yu Zhesheng! What the hell are you doing?" Su Cheng was shocked. When he came to his senses, he unleashed a torrent of abuse: "Yu Zhesheng, you son of a bitch, coward! Traitor! You'll die a horrible death!"

Su Cheng roared hysterically, spurring his horse to give chase, but was blocked by the fleeing soldiers, and could only watch helplessly as Yu Zhesheng and the Liangzhou army's figures grew further and further away.

At this moment, the allied forces had completely collapsed.

The once mighty army of 100,000 has now dwindled to just Su Cheng and a few hundred loyal guards standing in the same spot, like exposed rocks after the tide has receded, isolated and helpless.

A cold wind whipped up dust, sweeping across the ravaged battlefield, ruffling Su Cheng's disheveled hair and the trembling sword in his hand.

His body was trembling slightly, whether from anger or from the chill that was spreading from the depths of his heart, it was hard to tell.

In less than an hour, he went from being a triumphant commander of the allied forces to a completely isolated figure. This dramatic fall from grace drove him almost to madness.

"Why...why did this happen..." he screamed, his eyes unfocused, "My Su family has been loyal and virtuous for generations, with noble blood...this empire should have been..."

His voice grew softer and softer until it was finally swallowed up by the howling wind.

Around him were hundreds of corpses piled up like mountains, weapons scattered everywhere, and soldiers fleeing in panic—it looked like an apocalyptic scene.

The dozens of M16 rifles remained silently pointed at them, as if silently proclaiming the outcome of the war.

Old Meng watched the distraught Su Cheng from afar and sighed softly. He raised the megaphone again, his voice carrying a final hint of patience:

"Marshal Su, the situation is hopeless. Surrender. His Majesty values ​​talent and may be willing to grant you a way out."

Su Cheng suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot. He then threw his head back and laughed, a laugh that was both shrill and mournful.
"A way out? Hahaha... When has the Su family ever needed someone else to provide a way out? I, Su Cheng, would rather die than kneel before that usurper!"

He yanked the reins hard, and his warhorse reared up, neighing mournfully. He raised his sword and roared at the few hundred personal guards remaining behind him:
"Young men of the Su family! Follow me—"

Before the word "charge" could even be uttered, another unexpected event occurred!

Shen Daohong, who had been closely observing the battlefield situation, keenly sensed that Su Cheng was making a desperate stand. Almost instinctively, he snatched an M16 from a soldier next to him—he had secretly studied this thing countless times in Liangzhou and was already familiar with its operation.

"boom!"

A crisp gunshot pierced the sky.

Have a great weekend, everyone!