Chapter 773: Advance (4)

The air was full of pungent smells, and the thousands of troops approaching made a deafening roar, and Turk could no longer hear the prayers of others around him.
He glanced at the front from left to right, and the soldiers did not disappoint him.
Under extreme circumstances, although they were forced to assemble in a hurry, they formed a perfect formation, and according to the plan of countless exercises, they stood behind the trench and the sandbags.
Turk knew that how they would perform in the next thirty minutes would be crucial.
These soldiers are not capable of turning the tide, but by delaying the enemy and slowing the pace of the other party, they are expected to decide how this day will develop.
An Old World Volunteer Company flying the flag of the Great Corps rushed to the right wing of the Eleventh Corps, forming a front line between the troop trail and the southern canyon.
Another smaller, but tank-equipped field force moved behind colleagues.
The communications report stated that the six regiment's armored units and infantry support will reach their rear within ten minutes.
The left wing of the Eleventh Infantry Regiment is the wall of the fortification. Turk and his trusted captains skillfully deployed their positions on the higher terrain and the undulating terrain between the barracks.
They received good tactical instructions in the communication, and insight was also with them.
Turk could see the entourage priest in contact with his soldiers, let them fine-tune and tighten the formation, he nodded, believing that his troops were at their peak.
Then he raised his dagger and held it high in the air.
The sound of the safety lock opening suddenly sounded.
The tide of the enemy troops was less than a quarter of a kilometer away from them, and thick smoke swept along.
Dozens of local Tyre soldiers who had escaped from the attacked position were running wildly, and Turk realized that the poor idiots were in danger. They were in the firepower line, and he had no conditions to order his subordinates to wait until they escaped. Fire again in days.
People have to make some difficult choices in the war.
Back in Aswan, people have shown how indifferent they can make this choice.
Compassion is a kind of liberal stupidity. To save one life and lead to the death of another hundred lives is extremely stupid.
"The Father is with me."
Turk looked up at the flag hanging in the dry air. He looked closely at the pattern on the flag. It was an angel with wings and a white dove head, holding a scepter with a bell and a telescope.
As a believer, he knows the fate of fate and understands how fast time passes for a person who travels between swords and swords.
Turk believes that he also knows about fate.
You pay the price and get her services, and at the same time it is clear that she will switch to another person's arms under whim.
The sky above him became darker, and turned to dark red.
"Boys!"
He shouted:
"Don't be afraid of death! Under the watch of the Father, everything has judgment!"
The soldiers opened their throats and responded.
"Everything is judged!"
It's time.
Turk made a short swing with a dagger, spinning in the air.
This is the first signal.
On the low ridge to his right, the mortarman filled the cannonball into the angled barrel, stepped back, and turned his head.
Boom Boom~!
A burst of blasting sounds continuously, the mortar shells accurately grasping the distance fly into the sky and fall into the enemy group.
Turk watched the blast and flash after the shell landed and nodded in satisfaction.
Each explosion raised white smoke and tossed a corpse.
He swung his dagger back and forth.
This is the second signal.
The water-cooled heavy machine gun on the tripod and the direct-fire cannon began to roar, and the dazzling tracer projectile was directed at the approaching enemy.
Pieces of enemy forwards were wiped out in smoke, and smoke and blood mist enveloped the surging Oak Front, and minced meat fell on their heads like rain.
Turk could see the tall Oak Swordman shaking and dissociating under the tears of heavy fire. He also saw a beast running apart, rolling over and crushing all the riders on its back.
He laughed, and Turk had also heard that in Ok society, body shape determines status.
But on the battlefield, they are huge, and besides being able to shed more blood, they may not have other advantages.
Later, he slashed his dagger down.
This is the third signal.
Gun barrels protruding from behind the trenches and sandbags immediately opened fire, and the muzzle of the muzzle echoed like the sound of a broken tree branch.
Under the command of the officers' roar and Turk's insight, rows of soldiers aimed, shot, aimed, and shot.
The effect of this is devastating.
The Eleventh Regiment's marksmanship has long been famous, and Turk is very proud of it.
In the eyes of colleagues in the army, the guys carrying the flags of angels are all sharpshooters, and no one cannot hit a flying wild bird 900 meters away.
Turk often receives applications from other troops to borrow one or two shooters for training purposes. He suddenly bitterly regrets that Janofa and Komanzil, the two best shooters under him are not here this morning. Around.
A month ago he lent those two guys as instructors to the Rossiya Corps stationed in Tyre.
According to his recent news, their training journey has ended and is on the way back.
These two guys missed all the fun, those two lucky bastards.
The professional volley took away the front row of the Oak forces. The infantry and the rider were killed together. Although several Tyre soldiers who were on the run were unfortunately hit, Turk was pleased to see that his soldiers were not shooting well. Prestigious, avoiding most of his comrades.
The frantic survivor rushed into the front, crying for asylum.
Turk didn't lift his eyelids, but looked at his deputy head.
"Continue to shoot--"
Turk made a mouthful in the roar.
"Maintain the order until you meet the enemy."
The other party nodded.
Turk raised his short sword again, flush with his eyes, and lifted it in front of him.
This is the fourth signal.
The sorcerer interspersed among the soldiers took a step forward~EbookFREE.me~ As they released their long-standing spiritual power, a deadly fence appeared.
At the outer edge of the position, a sharp stalagmite rose from the ground, like a awakened beast opened its mouth, enclosing the entire position in a slanted sharp tooth, the longest of which was ten Meter.
At the same time, the tip of the stalagmite began to become hot in the burning energy.
"Put it up, bastards!"
Turk thought to himself.
"At that time you will understand how the Black Legion can kill you."
As if he had listened to his wishes, Oaker did so.
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ! ! !
Enemies like locust swarms over the last open terrain, and under the salvo of all kinds of light and heavy weapons, every step they take is traded for life.
Ten meters, five meters, two meters...
Although they suffered heavy losses, they continued to approach.
Every time an Oke dies, there are two other places that top it, and four more rush after they die.
In the blink of an eye, Oaker striker reached the stalagmite fence.
The first row immediately pierced like a skewer. They didn't want to stop, but the push behind made them impossible to stop.
The wizards did not relax, they tried their best to fight the impact and the weight of several enemies.
Some of them grunted energetically, causing the whole body to be lifted off the ground and stuck in stalagmites like a caught fish.
Others struggled to fall, blood spewed out of their mouths, the massive weight of enemy corpses overwhelmed the stalagmites, and even the rocks solidified by witchcraft were overwhelmed by fragmentation, and the witchcraft sheaths protecting them disappeared.
"it has started--"
Turk whispered to himself.