The fifth volume of the pen of magic, chapter 122, knocking the bone
The rebellion spread with a prairie fire, which had already affected nearly one-third of the tribes. The rebellion was initiated at the beginning, and the number of the most powerful rebels now exceeded 4,000.
This rebel was so powerful that it took a whole year to fight from the extremely distant cliff to less than two hundred miles from the Ju Peak!
Although the foundation of the Buddha's Kingdom seems to be not really shaken, the Hanging Temple has felt a strong danger, and the monks cannot allow those rebels to climb the sacred mountain.
The Buddhist sect walks seven thoughts and is also a top-notch strong man in the Hanging Temple. Since the rebellion has grown, he has been standing on the mountain road that must be passed on on the upper peak. There is a person who is currently in front of Qingxia.
The might of Humokai, but as the rebels approached, he could no longer sit still.
Qi Nian knows the biggest difference between this rebellion and the countless rebellions in the past countless years. In the past, the rebellion in the underground world was just the instinct of the serfs, but now in this rebellion, the serfs are very clear about what they want.
, so they are so determined and brave.
Someone brought hope to the serfs and pointed out a clear direction for them. At the same time, the man stood with the serfs and was always in front of the battlefield.
Thinking of that person's name, Qi Nian's expression became solemn, and his eyes became more and more firm in the shadow of the hat. It was because he knew that the person was in the rebels that he left the peak and came to this battlefield.
,He knew that the three elders of the precepts may not be able to stop each other.
Facing that person, no matter how cautious the Hanging Temple seems, it is not an exaggeration. Qi Nian is even sure that if the first one was not on the cliff, he would definitely take action personally this time.
On the battlefield full of smoke and dust in the distance, the wildest fighting sounds broke out. Qi Nian woke up from her meditation and looked at the place where she was silent, knowing that today's battle was about to end.
As dusk came, nearly a thousand people died in several large tribes, they had extremely difficult to stop the rebellious slaves from the other side of the meadow, and howling and moaning could be heard everywhere in the fields.
The war was temporarily stopped, and the monks were looking at the meadow in the distance, with a bit complicated expression on their faces. In the camp of the rebel serfs, there were more than a dozen very simple tents. The old people were treating the injured young people, and the side of the tent
Fang Youqiu smoke rose, and a large pot was installed on the fire. It was supposed to be cooking mutton. In front of the tent in the middle, you could vaguely see many people sitting around there, as if they were listening to someone talking.
The underground night is longer than the temple on the peak, and it is even longer than the real world on the ground, which makes people feel a little bored. Qi Nian is not tired. He stood quietly among the fields until the stars disappear.
The morning light shone again, and then the monks slowly walked towards the battlefield.
More than a dozen gorgeously dressed noble men knelt on the meadow, with an excited and awe-inspiring look and did not dare to look up at them. For them, those who came down from the sacred mountain were real Buddhas.
The cavalry had woken up and washed and fed under the servitude of slaves. There were also sounds from the rebel camps between the meadows in the distance. There were no slaves, but there were old men, women and children.
This rebel army, which fought from the cliff to the front of the peak, always carried the elderly, weak, sick and disabled families and orphans of the same race. From a military perspective, this is stupid and intimidating.
Qi Nian walked forward, and the nobles looked pious and fanatical, and kept kissing the footprints he stepped on. He ignored these people and quietly looked at the meadow in the distance.
The elder of the Precepts standing on his right hand, looking at the meadow in the morning light, and the ragged but joyful slaves, suddenly felt extremely angry for some reason.
"All sinners will go to hell."
With this cold verdict, the fierce battle began again. Thousands of cavalry convened by several large tribes rushed towards the rebels opposite. The horse's cavalry waved their shiny scimitars and shouted filthy.
Words, bloodshot eyes full of cruelty.
The equipment of the tribal cavalry is naturally countless times stronger than those rebel serfs, especially the more than 200 cavalry rushing in the front, and the armor is in sharp contrast with the enemy.
The sound of hooves was as fast as rainstorms and the blades were as bright as the sun. The tribal cavalry rushed into the fields hundreds of feet ahead of the serfs, and the shouts of killing seemed to shake the sky.
A rain of arrows fell.
With the eyes of the monks in the Hanging Temple, they naturally saw clearly that there were only dozens of archers in the rebellious serf formation, and the bows and arrows in their hands were so simple, and some of them didn't even have tail feathers on them. Such arrows could
Who should I shoot? Even if I shoot, how can I shoot in armor?
The elder of the preceptor showed a look of pity on his face. This kind of pity was naturally a mockery, but Qi Nian's expression was still solemn--his eyesight was better, and it was clear that those arrows did not have clusters of arrows, but
Stranded with edge-shaped stones.
A gust of wind suddenly blew up above the meadow. The wind was a little weird, because it was not as unpredictable as the wind in nature, and it was constantly blowing, and it seemed as if it was ordered to blow straight towards the tribal cavalry.
Arrows without tail feathers can fly in such violent winds, and there is no need for accuracy. They become faster and faster in the wind, and even turn into whistling arrow shadows!
Bang bang bang bang bang bang, dozens of dull collisions sounded almost at the same time, and the tribal cavalry rushing in front fell to the ground like weeds cut by sickles!
The cavalry who fell to the ground rolled in pain, and their mouths kept spraying with blood. They could not get up. The next moment, they closed their eyes unwillingly.
There was a clear depression on the armor of the dead cavalry. The rebellious serfs lacked food and clothing, and had no resources. They could not create sharp clusters of arrows. Even with the help of the strong wind, they could not shoot through their armor.
But the serfs had stones tied to the arrows and fell by the wind. A stone was a fierce hammer that fell on the armor, which directly shocked the cavalry's internal organs and all the internal organs were broken!
The arrow stone caused extremely heavy casualties, but the number of tribal cavalry was too large. The charge was only slightly reduced, so it continued to run towards the opposite side. There was a sudden sound of killing before the meadow.
This is a very asymmetric battle. The tribal cavalry were wearing iron armor or leather armor and holding sharp swords in their hands, while the serfs were dressed in tattered, dark and thin, old and young, and the weapons in their hands were very simple.
Most people hold bamboo spears in their hands, and several serfs even hold bones in their hands. Judging from the freshness, they are afraid they are the lamb leg bones in the pot yesterday!
Equipment is indeed very important for combat, but what is really important is always humans. The serfs have no armor or swords, but they have courage, desire, and bones.
Looking at the cavalry coming like a stream of iron, the serfs looked pale, but they did not retreat. They picked up the bamboo spear in their hands, and even though their hands were trembling as if they were shaking, no one let it go.
Puchi, the seemingly fragile bamboo spear pierced the seemingly hard armor!
Kala, the bamboo spear was broken by the huge impact of the cavalry, and the serfs whose hands were shaken out of countless blood were shouting wildly, and then swallowed the cavalry.
The same picture takes place in all places around the meadow. The seemingly arrogant cavalry fell down one after another in front of the seemingly vulnerable serf front and were then piled up to death!
The cavalry lost their advantage in speed, and the serfs began to use their advantage in numbers. They picked up stones, waved their bones, surrounded the nearest cavalry frantically, and then started smashing!
They smashed the cavalry's breastplate into deformation and the cavalry's head into deformation. They smashed the cavalry with the bone stick in their hands, knocking the cavalry unconscious, and then smashing the opponent's leg bones, causing the cavalry to hurt.
The slightest awakens again, waves the knife in his hand randomly, and is finally smashed to death.
The meadow was full of blood, and the sound of broken legs were everywhere. The serfs were hissing and yelling like wild animals, constantly smashing.
Their ancestors lived in this dark field for generations, and they were enslaved by nobles and masters for generations. They were once killed by these people with stones, they were sucked by these people, and today it was their turn to kill them.
It's their turn to smash the bones of these people!
The Buddha always talked about reincarnation to his disciples and believers, saying that the cycle of cause and effect is unhappy, then this is retribution, this is cause and effect, and this is reincarnation.
Looking at the bloody and tragic scenes on the battlefield and the increasingly unfavorable situation of the tribe, the elder of the preceptor no longer had a look of compassion in his eyes, only anger and coldness remained.
Qiming was silent for a moment, and then said, "I am merciful."
"I am merciful!"
More than a hundred monks from the west peak of Xuankong Temple clasped one hand and proclaimed the Buddha's name in unison. There was no compassion in their voices, only indifference and perseverance.
Accompanied by the Buddha's name, the iron sticks in the hands of the monks were inserted heavily into the fields.
It was like a thunder blew up between the fields.
A powerful force spread from the bottom of the dense iron rod to the meadow. The field was shaking uneasy, as if there were Vajras walking underground.
More than a dozen serfs were shocked to fly, and then fell heavily, and were actually shocked to death.
"I am merciful!"
The monk soldier proclaimed the Buddha's name again, pulled out the iron stick from the field, and rushed towards the battlefield. For a moment, the sticks were full of shadows, and the monk's clothes were floating, and the indescribable solemnity was inexplicably solemn.
Seeing the rebel serfs who had already won the victory, suddenly listening to the Buddha's chant and looking at the monks, their faces turned very pale and their eyes were filled with horror.
To them, these monk soldiers from the sacred mountain were living Buddhas.
They are mortals, how can they fight with the living Buddha? At this moment, a sound suddenly came to the tent in the middle of the meadow, as if they were chanting the scriptures.
Listening to the sound, the serfs' expressions suddenly became firmer. They held iron swords and bamboo spears, waved bone sticks full of knife marks, and rushed towards the monk soldiers.
The monks and soldiers were proclaiming the Buddha's name, and the Buddha's name sounded like thunder.
The serfs were also chanting scriptures. They were repeating the scriptures that the man recited in the tent. This passage was very short and they memorized it very well. Every word was a sentence, and every word was sonorous and powerful, like a real thunder.
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(Chapter 2, and then borrow the bones of this chapter to recommend a Korean movie I like very much: "Yellow Sea") (To be continued. Please search for Piaotianwen, the novel is better, updated and faster!)