Tiantang Splendid

Chapter 5344 Chapter 2209 Divine Soldiers Descend from the Sky
Mesopotamia boasts a history comparable to that of China, but unlike the unbroken continuity of Chinese civilization, it was invaded and conquered by various foreign powers throughout history, including ancient Egypt, the Persian Empire, the Roman Empire, and the Abbasid Caliphate…

The consequences were not only a change of regime, but more seriously, the complete annihilation of the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia, with the cities that represented that civilization being destroyed in the endless wars.

For example, the city of Nineveh.

Nineveh, once the capital of the Assyrian Empire that ruled Mesopotamia, represented the highest level of civilization in the region. However, it was burned and destroyed in a great war a thousand years ago, leaving only magnificent ruins.

Even though Nineveh was rebuilt on its ruins due to its strategic importance, it never regained its former glory and became merely a "sentinel" on the east bank of the Tigris River, used to protect the new city of Mosul built on the west bank.

……

As a historically important city in Mesopotamia, Mosul, like Ctesiphon, has a very important geographical location. It once existed as a fortress to block the Persians from crossing the mountains and moving south. Even after the Abbasid Caliphate conquered it, it continued to play a vital role in defending against the Byzantine Empire's attacks on Mesopotamia.

In the early morning, the sunlight shines on the river, making it sparkle. Water from the melting snow of the mountains flows into the Tigris River, and with the rainy season approaching and rainfall increasing, the tributaries are full of water, making the river turbulent and turbulent, no longer clear and tranquil as usual.

The young sentry yawned and lazily climbed the stone watchtower to begin his daily three-shift lookout duty.

He climbed the watchtower, took out a small earthenware wine pot from his pocket, took a small sip with relish, then put the pot aside and kicked a few pieces of firewood into a pile of firewood. This was to be used to light a beacon and warn the city of Mosul on the west bank of the river if enemy activity was detected.

After finishing all this, he stretched and glanced at the city of Mosul on the other side of the river. Thinking that he would be able to go home for a break in three days and enjoy intimate moments with his newlywed wife in bed, his heart was filled with excitement.

In the distance, the city of Mosul is surrounded by tall and sturdy city walls, with houses standing side by side. Closer up, the pontoon bridge connecting the two banks appears somewhat faint against the backdrop of the rolling river, as if it could be swallowed, submerged, and torn apart by the surging waters at any moment.

Besides observing potential enemy activity, one of his duties was also to light a signal fire and destroy the pontoon bridge at a crucial moment...

The sentry yawned, seemingly unconcerned about his duties.

The empire had completely dominated Mesopotamia. The Sasanian dynasty had long since collapsed. The Persians were now herded and kept under surveillance on the plateau like cattle and sheep. The empire's military might had a significant advantage in the war between the Mediterranean and Byzantium. Byzantium was barely able to protect itself, let alone have the strength to land on the east coast and invade Mesopotamia.
It's perfectly safe.

Then he turned around and glanced at the mountains to the north. It had rained last night, and today the sky was clear and blue. In the distance, the majestic mountain peaks were faintly visible with their snow-capped summits... Hmm?

what is that?
The sentry rubbed his eyes, leaned over the arrow crenellations at the edge of the watchtower, and peered into the distance. Between the emerald green grasslands and the dark blue mountains, a black tide surged and cascaded down.

Was it a flash flood?

But the distant mountains are hundreds of miles away from Nineveh. Even if a flash flood were to occur, it couldn't be that far away. Instead of its momentum waning, it would be getting faster and faster.

After a while, he strained his eyes and stared intently into the distance. His eyes widened and his mouth opened unconsciously.

What did you see?
cavalry!

Cavalrymen, swarming across the mountains and plains, surged forth like a tidal wave, their red tassels on their helmets bobbing and undulating with each gallop of their horses, resembling ocean waves.

The sentry was completely dumbfounded. How could there be an enemy attack in this place?

Is it the Persians making a comeback?

Or did the Romans force their way in from the sea and infiltrate their territory?

Then he suddenly realized that his duty was to light a signal fire to warn the city of Mosul when enemy activity was detected...

He quickly left the arrow stacks, took out a flint and steel from his pocket, and squatted down beside the pile of firewood, trying to light a beacon fire.

However, he was too nervous and his hands trembled. He tried to ignite the firewood more than a dozen times but failed. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself down and tried again several times. Sparks finally shot out, but the pile of firewood remained unresponsive...

He reached out to touch it and realized that the heavy rain last night had soaked the firewood pile and it was still wet. He had overlooked this and failed to retrieve spare firewood from the house below the watchtower in time.

He stood up to fetch spare firewood, but subconsciously went back to the arrow emplacement to look outside. He discovered that enemy light cavalry had already swept in, and they were less than thirty li away from the watchtower...

He hurried down from the watchtower, opened the door, grabbed a bundle of firewood, and huffed and puffed as he climbed back up. He lit it with a flint and steel, watched the flames rise, and then gently placed the damp firewood on top. Inadvertently, he smothered the flames...

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, the sentry lit the firewood again, letting the flames lick the damp wood. After a while, thick smoke finally billowed out.

He looked out from the arrow slits once more and saw that the enemy army was sweeping in like a tidal wave, and he could faintly hear the sound of hooves like muffled thunder.

Startled, he quickly turned and descended the tower, but in his panic, he missed a step and tumbled down the stairs. He managed to get up and run to his warhorse in front of the watchtower, where he untied the reins, mounted the horse, and galloped towards the river.

The thunderous hoofbeats of thousands of horses were right behind them, almost within reach.

He galloped to the riverbank, dismounted, drew his sword, and chopped at the bridge piers. Cutting the piers would cause the pontoon bridge, connected by iron chains on both banks, to scatter and drift away with the current. This was one of his tasks.

However, just as he made a slash, he heard a sharp whooshing sound in his ear. An arrow flew past his face and struck the bridge pier with a "thud." The arrowhead was three inches deep into his vision, and the white fletching at the end of the arrow vibrated violently, emitting a slight buzzing sound.

The sentries had no time to worry about cutting down the bridge piers.

He discarded his sword, stood up, leaped onto his horse, pressed his body tightly against its back, and galloped across the pontoon bridge, racing towards Mosul...

……

Wang Xiaojie, riding at full speed, shook his head, put away his longbow, and put his legs down on the saddle. He had intended to shoot the enemy soldier who was trying to cut the bridge pier with an arrow, but because the horse was galloping and bobbing, he was unable to kill the enemy with one arrow, and felt a little regretful.

Then he gripped the reins and shouted, "Quickly, quickly, follow me across the pontoon bridge!"

He charged ahead onto the pontoon bridge, followed closely by hundreds of vanguard cavalrymen. Their hooves pounded the bridge, causing it to tremble, as they galloped towards the opposite bank at breakneck speed.

The Tigris River is wide and vast, and it was during the rainy season when the river was swollen and turbulent. If the enemy destroyed the pontoon bridge first, crossing the river would be extremely difficult and costly.

Fortunately, whether due to the enemy's negligence or the long period of peace leading to lax military preparedness, this crucial pontoon bridge was guarded by only one soldier, and there wasn't even a place to station troops on either side of the bridge...

Wang Xiaojie sped across the pontoon bridge and breathed a long sigh of relief as he stepped onto the west bank.

To prevent the enemy from destroying the pontoon bridge, he led the charge, rushing at full speed to catch the enemy off guard, and fortunately, the mission was successfully completed.

He stroked the warhorse's sweaty neck, gently stroking it a few times to comfort it. In return, the warhorse twisted its neck and touched his palm with its long face. Wang Xiaojie shouted, "Dismount immediately and build defenses! The enemy has received the beacon fire warning and will be here soon. We must hold the bridgehead position. Even if we die, we will wait for the general to arrive!"

With their own forces racing at full speed, the main force naturally couldn't keep up and would take about an hour to catch up.

"Here!"

Hundreds of vanguards responded in unison, then dismounted and arranged their warhorses in one place. They took muskets, bows and arrows, shields, and lances from their horses, gathered at the bridgehead, and quickly loaded ammunition. They placed the bows and arrows within easy reach, and used the lances to prop up their shields to block enemy arrows...

They were all experienced veterans and quickly made preparations, waiting for Xue Rengui to lead the main force across the pontoon bridge and for the enemy to arrive.

On the east bank of the river, a beacon fire was burning atop a watchtower, with thick smoke billowing into the sky, making it particularly conspicuous.

The east gate of Mosul opened wide, and a troop of cavalry swept out of the gate like a whirlwind, galloping wildly towards the river.

Then the city gates were closed, and countless soldiers quickly climbed the city walls to set up defenses.

The leading general, Salma, was the youngest son of the city lord and came from an Assyrian noble family. He led his five hundred cavalrymen to the ferry crossing at lightning speed. From afar, they saw a troop of soldiers blocking the bridgehead, with a large banner fluttering in the wind.

Upon reaching within thirty paces of the enemy's position, Salma immediately halted, spear in hand, and pointed to the square characters on the banner, asking those around him, "What are the characters on that banner? Where do these enemies come from?"

Neither the left nor the right side can answer.

In the Assyrian tradition, the entire population was a soldier; fighting was the tradition, and killing was in their nature. As for reading... that was impossible.

If you can't even recognize your own characters, how can you recognize other people's?
Salma, young and impetuous, was not afraid at all, even though he saw that the enemy's formation was well-organized and imposing. He gripped his spear and shouted, "Whether they are Persians or Romans, since they have dared to invade Mosul, let's cut off their heads and hang them on the city walls, peel off their skin to wrap the city gates, and throw their bodies into the river!"

"Follow me to kill the enemy!"

He charged ahead towards the Tang army's position at the bridgehead, with five hundred elite cavalry close behind. The soldiers on horseback drew their bows and nocked arrows, shooting them as they ran, then discarding their bows and arrows, grabbing their spears and charging directly into the enemy lines.

Arrows rained down on the Tang army's ranks, most of them blocked by shields, creating a cacophony of clanging and thudding.

As the arrows rained down, Wang Xiaojie roared, "Bows and arrows, fire!"