In this realistic war game, only I understand the course of the battle.

The west gate was already engulfed in flames.

After the oil tank exploded, burning oil splattered everywhere. The door frame was burning, the broken wood on the ground was burning, and even the edge of the crack in the rammed earth wall was flaming.

Black smoke billowed into the sky, forming a straight column of smoke in the morning air.

"Now!" Shen Du drew his goose-feather saber, the tip pointing towards the west gate. "Charge!"

The side panels of the wooden donkey were knocked open, and the foot soldiers hiding inside, along with reinforcements from behind, filed out.

Shen Du, carrying a knife, charged ahead, stepping over the burning wood debris to cross the ruins of the West Gate, and stepped into the Bao Family Camp.

The scene inside the village was chaotic. The explosion overturned several tents near the village gate, and the grain piles were ignited by sparks, with the fire spreading deeper into the village.

The defenders were stunned by the bombing; some were putting out fires, some were running around aimlessly, and some were carrying weapons but didn't know which way to rush.

Shen Du ignored the chaotic soldiers. His gaze was fixed on the tallest building in the center of the village—the watchtower.

"Zhao Laoliu! Bring all the throwing axes! Charge with me!"

Shen Du led the remaining dozens of men from Team C to break into the village along the main road.

On the way, they encountered two groups of garrison troops. The first group was broken up by Shen Du's flying axes, while the second group was forced back into a side alley by the spearmen's long spears.

The watchtower is just fifty paces ahead.

Then Shen Du saw the thing he least wanted to see all day.

A group of people stood at the foot of the tower, unlike ordinary guards.

The orderly ranks stood out starkly from the surrounding routed soldiers.

Shields in front, spears behind, completely surrounding the watchtower.

Shen Du's heart sank, and he thought to himself:

"Where did this team come from?"

In his view, the equipment of the group below the watchtower was clearly different from that of ordinary Southern soldiers. Their armor was covered with uniform cloth armor, their shields were a size larger than those of ordinary infantrymen, and their spears were almost a foot longer than the standard spears.

The centurion, who was holding a long-handled battle axe, stood at the front of the formation with his legs slightly apart and his center of gravity lowered, a posture that clearly belonged to an old soldier.

This is absolutely elite!

They were either Li Jinglong's personal guards or Sheng Yong's elite troops transferred from Jinan.

Shen Du had only one thought in his mind before he gave the order.

"Scatter! Don't take the right path!"

Team C, consisting of several dozen men, immediately dispersed from the middle of the alley, creeping forward along the earthen walls on both sides. Shen Du himself led Zhao Laoliu and three axe throwers into a narrow alley on the left, crouching low as they ran forward.

At the end of the alley was an abandoned granary, half of its roof blown off by the explosion. By going around the side of the granary, you could reach the side and rear of the watchtower.

Shen Du ran to the corner of the granary and squatted down, then turned around and made a gesture to Zhao Laoliu.

Zhao Laoliu understood, pulled a throwing axe from behind his back, pressed it against the wall, and suppressed his breathing to be shallow and light.

Shen Du peeked half his head out from the corner of the wall.

The elite troops hadn't moved yet. The centurion of the battle-axe troops remained standing at the very front of the formation, his gaze calmly sweeping across the main road, seemingly waiting for Shen Du to charge in from the front.

The shield bearers behind him formed an iron wall of shields, with spears protruding from the gaps in the shields, their tips gleaming coldly in the firelight.

Charging head-on would be suicide.

Shen Du withdrew his gaze, switched the goose-feather saber to his left hand, and pulled a throwing axe from behind his back with his right hand.

"Zhao Laoliu," he said in a very low voice, "I'll smash the right corner of their shield formation. If the shield tilts, you smash the left. The third one will hit the middle. Once we disrupt their formation, we'll charge."

Zhao Laoliu nodded and also drew a throwing axe and held it in his hand.

"Walk."

Shen Du turned out from the corner and swung his right arm forward in a wide arc.

The flying axe spun in the air and struck the top edge of the rightmost shield precisely.

The shield bearer's arm went numb from the shock, and the shield tilted half an inch.

Immediately afterward, Zhao Laoliu's flying axe arrived, striking the lower edge of the left shield, sending wood chips flying. The shield bearer instinctively flinched.

The third throwing axe was hurled from another axe thrower, flying over the shield formation and smashing into the ranks of spearmen in the back. One spearman was hit in the shoulder, grunted, and took half a step back.

Three cuts, all in the blink of an eye.

The centurion of the battleaxe frowned. He clearly hadn't expected this kind of coordination from the disheveled siege soldiers.

"Now's the time! Charge!"

Shen Du, carrying a knife, was the first to rush out.

Dozens of people surged out from the narrow alleys and side alleys behind him, like a scattering of pebbles crashing into the shield formation.

The spearman's spear thrust from the side, knocking the rightmost shield bearer, shield and all, to the ground. Zhao Laoliu led the breaching team, charging headlong into the gap in the shield formation, his short-handled axe slicing along the edge of the shield.

The centurion of the battle-axe unit finally made his move.

He took a step forward, twirling his long-handled battle axe in his hand before the blade whistled as it slashed towards Shen Du. The axe strike was incredibly powerful; Shen Du dodged to the side, the blade grazing his shoulder armor and striking the ground, leaving a deep gash in the rammed earth.

That's some real strength.

Shen Du didn't fight him head-on, but instead slashed at his wrist with a backhand.

With a flick of his wrist, the centurion of the battle axe blocked the attack with the axe handle, and sparks flew as the sword and axe clashed.

As they passed each other, Shen Du saw his face clearly: a rugged, square face with high cheekbones, and eyes that held no fear, only a hunter's focused attention.

These weren't the incompetent officers under Li Jinglong. These were men who had truly fought in tough battles.

What Shen Du didn't know was that the opponent who made him wary was named Wen Ding-Tie Fu in the game, and was one of the core combat members of the Wen Ding Guild in the Dezhou city defense system.

His only task today was to hold the Bao family watchtower and at least buy them another incense stick's time.

Meanwhile, three miles south of Baojiaying, on the stockade wall of Xiajiaying.

A middle-aged man dressed in a civil official's robe stood on the watchtower, looking through the smoke and dust at the firelight in the direction of Baojiaying.

His robes had no military insignia, but the generals standing beside him treated him with utmost respect.

"Baojia Camp has fallen." A commander's voice tightened. "Military Advisor Song, should we send reinforcements?"

The middle-aged man, referred to as Military Advisor Song, put down his binoculars, his face as calm as a stagnant pool.

"No need." His voice was indifferent. "Baojiaying was never intended to be defended in the first place."

Qianhu was stunned.

"After the Baigou River, the Yan army's morale is high. If we fight head-on, the Twelve Fortresses won't be able to stop us." Military Advisor Song turned around and walked down from the watchtower. "Rather than letting them gnaw at our fortresses one by one, we should open up the pass."

"Get out of the way?" The commander caught up, his face full of confusion. "But our men are at Baojia Camp..."

Military Advisor Song walked to the table below the watchtower, where a general map of Dezhou's defenses was laid out.

Military Advisor Song moved his finger westward from the location of Baojia Camp and stopped at the black line behind the Twelve Linked Cities.

"Now that the Yan army has broken through Bao's camp, what will they do next?" he asked.

The commander pondered for a moment: "Should we press our advantage and advance south?"

"That's right." Military Advisor Song drew a line on the map with his finger.

"They will advance deeper into the area through the opening torn open at Baojiaying."

The faster the charge, the longer the formation stretches. The longer the formation stretches, the thinner the flanks become.

His finger stopped at a point. That point was marked with two characters—"Zhongying" (中营).

"Pass on the order," Military Advisor Song said calmly.

"Order Xiajia Camp and Wangjia Camp to stop reinforcing Baojia Camp, and let the Yan army advance deeper into the territory."

Once their vanguard and central army have separated, the ambushers from the central and northern camps will simultaneously attack from the left and right flanks, cutting off their advance.

Upon hearing this, Qianhu gasped in shock.

This isn't defending the city; it's digging a grave for the Yan army.

They used Baojia Camp as bait to lure the Yan army's elite troops in.

Once the blade has fully penetrated the depth of the Twelve Linked Cities, apply force from both sides simultaneously to bite and kill the flesh around the tip of the blade.

Military Advisor Song picked up his pen and drew an X on the map at the location of Baojia Camp.

His handwriting was very light, as if he had just casually scribbled on the paper.