Simultaneous travel: I am a talented person in all the worlds

Chapter 164: Thousands of trainings have made us soldiers, inviting heroes from all over the world to test their swords!

Sun Tzu's Art of War: "Courage and cowardice are a matter of momentum; strength and weakness are a matter of form."

The core essence of the so-called military situation among the four forces of military strategists lies in this.

Show your bravery to your own soldiers so that they know they are on the strong side; strike a blow to the enemy's morale so that the enemy thinks they are on the weak side.

Use a point to break the whole area, use local advantages to break the enemy's morale, raise your own morale, and thus win the battle with fewer troops!

How to boost one's own morale and quickly destroy the enemy's nodes depends on the personal ability of the commander.

No matter how excellent the commander of a large army is, he cannot directly control every low-level soldier. Instead, he needs hundreds of thousands of middle-level captains to convey the message - this is where the node is!
Mo Yu, on the other hand, had an extremely sensitive sense of the battlefield situation. He could keenly detect the location of the enemy's command node, and then use his own powerful force to forcibly break through it.

With a wave of his hand, the torrent of cavalry suddenly split into three.

Mo Yu personally led a thousand cavalrymen and charged directly into the enemy's leader like a sharp knife piercing the heart, in order to attract the enemy's main force; the chief of the Luoluo tribe, Urka, and the chief of the Saltus tribe each led a thousand cavalrymen, and attacked from the left and right, like two wings tearing the enemy's formation.

Amid the howling wind and snow, the black battle flags fluttered in the wind, and the three groups of cavalry were full of momentum and murderous intent.

With only 3,000 cavalrymen against 50,000 Hu soldiers, he actually dared to divide his forces?!

What arrogance! And what contempt for the enemy!

Inside the central camp, Numa Seka stood atop a high slope, surrounded by over ten thousand elite cavalrymen. His black robe billowed in the wind, his handsome face as cold as ice. He gripped his spear tightly, his gaze fixed on the distant figure of Mo Yu, eager to charge down, fight him to the death, and personally pierce the arrogant man's chest.

But reason was like a cold current that extinguished his anger. He took a deep breath and suppressed the impulse in his heart.

The enemy general is exceptionally brave, his ability to single-handedly destroy an entire army terrifying. However, his forces are few and far between, with only 3,000 cavalry, and their numbers are even smaller after being divided. Showing off one's own bravery is not the best strategy. The best approach is to surround him with a battle formation and annihilate him in a sea of ​​numbers.

Numa Seka admonished himself, the anger in his eyes gradually subsiding, transforming into a deep, cold glint. He turned his head to look at the person beside him and whispered, "Are you ready?"

She was a woman of exceptional beauty, with skin as white as cream and eyes as clear as autumn water. She wore a pale purple robe and possessed a gentle and noble aura, quite unlike the wild and unrestrained beauties of the North. Instead, she resembled a noblewoman of the empire. Within her feminine face were a pair of determined, ambitious eyes.

She held an exquisite piccolo in her hands, its body intricately carved with patterns and faintly radiant—the Imperial Flute, the Military Music Dream, "Scream." She nodded gently, her voice as cold as ice: "Alright."

The woman raised the piccolo with her slender hands and placed it to her lips. The faint flute sound suddenly rang out and spread in all directions.

Frightened by Mo Yu's terrifying fighting power of destroying the enemy's formation on his own, the Hu cavalry was in a panic and almost collapsed, but under the sound of the flute, they gradually calmed down.

The fear in the soldiers' eyes gradually faded, replaced by a strange calmness. The hands holding the swords steadied themselves again, and the war horses neighed and stopped trembling.

"Surround him and wear him out!"

Numa Seka narrowed his eyes and looked at the battlefield. He ignored the two thousand cavalry led by Urka and Chief Saltus who were infiltrating the two wings, but gave a decisive order to mobilize six thousand elite cavalry.

Almost half of the troops he had at the moment were divided into two groups, each with 3,000 men, to attack the thousand cavalry led by Mo Yu from both sides.

The thousand cavalrymen led by Mo Yu were like a sharp cone, piercing into the battle formation fiercely, almost tearing apart the outer defense of the central army camp, and advancing towards the core.

But as the flute sounded, the enemy's morale, which should have collapsed, was strangely locked in place, and he clearly felt a growing sense of resistance. The Hu knights no longer fled in panic, but instead approached step by step, swords and spears raised, their formation chaotic but resilient.

"Is it an imperial artifact that assists the legion?" Although he couldn't remember which one it was specifically, Mo Yu roughly guessed that the flute sound should be the effect of some kind of imperial artifact.

All I can say is that wars in the extraordinary world are like this. Both sides are gods fighting each other, and it all depends on who has the more powerful cheat.

Isn't it just a Legion skill? Look at me rubbing a collective rage.

Mo Yu suddenly raised the brass horn shield, and the black energy surged like a tide. The shield glowed brightly, like a blood moon in the dark night.

"Use the blood of the enemy to sacrifice our warriors' path!"

Over the past few days, I have consumed countless blood sacrifices, and just now, I drank a lot of enemy blood because Mo Yu broke through the formation alone. There may be nearly tens of thousands of residual spirits in the brass horn shield.

The shadowy figure of the god of war in the shield seemed to open his scarlet eyes, his low humming sound turned into a roar, and a violent aura swept in all directions.

The thousand cavalrymen's eyes suddenly blazed with blood, black energy boiling through their meridians, their killer instincts erupting completely, cruelty and brutality burning their hearts like flames. Swords and spears raised high, warhorses neighing, their momentum surging, like a herd of ferocious beasts breaking free from their shackles.

"Sacrifice blood to the Blood God, and offer skulls to the Skull Throne!" The crazy roar resounded through the heaven and earth. Although there were only a thousand cavalrymen, they faced the tens of thousands of cavalrymen head-on and displayed a crushing momentum.

Mo Yu ripped off his shirt, ripped to shreds by the fighting, leaving his bare chest. His dragon-like muscles twisted in the cold wind, unleashing a terrifying force. His spear blade swept across, slicing the cavalry and their horses blocking his path in two, sending blood spurting out onto the snow.

Buck followed closely behind, his eyes bloodshot and a madman-like expression. He imitated Mo Yu and ripped off his armor. With a roar, he plunged his spear into the heart of a Hu cavalry captain, the tip of the spear piercing through the body and splattering blood. He grinned wildly, pulled out his spear, blood dripping down the shaft, and the brutality in his eyes became even more intense.

The formation is meaningless at this moment. The thousands of riders burst out with unprecedented murderous intent and launch a selfless attack!
The swords and spears were wielded like the wind, and the black energy attached to the blades was indestructible. In an instant, countless Hu cavalrymen and their horses fell to the ground.

The Hu cavalry, who were already intimidated by Mo Yu's might, could not resist the mental collapse under this fierce counterattack even with the imperial instrument of the flute, the military music dream, to suppress it.

Although the flute music stabilized the morale of the army, it could not improve their combat effectiveness. Many Hu people were frightened to the point of emotional collapse, and were then killed in the most brutal way by the furious warriors - their heads were chopped off and held high, their chests were pierced by spears, their flesh was trampled into a paste by horses' hooves, and their howls were heard everywhere.

Blood dyed the battle robes of every tribal warrior red.

The tribal warriors who had followed Mo Yu all the way in without losing a single man were killed in this brief but fierce clash, with over a hundred of them falling forever. Broken limbs and bodies were scattered across the snow, and the horses wailed as they trampled over the corpses of their comrades, the scarlet and white intertwining in a horrifying sight.

However, the death of their comrades did not intimidate the remaining soldiers. Instead, it was like adding fuel to the fire, arousing even deeper ferocity and anger in them.

A Luoluo Wu warrior glared with bloodshot eyes, pierced a Hu cavalryman with his spear, and roared, "You dog-like thing, how dare you kill my brother!"

He drew his spear, blood gushing out, and with a powerful strike, he smashed the Hu cavalry's skull, shattering it. His brains splattered, and the remnant of his spirit transformed into black energy, surging into his shield. His comrade roared and leaped toward the enemy, shielding him from the incoming Hu cavalry scimitars. "Clang!" The swords and shields collided, sparks flew, black energy surged, and the scimitars broke. The comrade then struck down with his sword, sending the enemy soldier spewing blood from his throat and falling to the ground.

Seeing that the battle formation was about to collapse, 6,000 elite cavalrymen from the Hu cavalry finally arrived to support them.

Dividing the troops into two wings, they attacked from both sides, squeezing the fighting space of the tribe's thousand cavalry. Some of the Hu soldiers, whose spirits had been broken by Mo Yu's violent cavalry and whose morale had been disrupted, were decisively killed by the captains who arrived to fill the gap. Their heads tumbled, blood staining the frozen ground, and the chaos eased slightly.

Some officers brandished their swords and shouted, "Hold the line, surround and kill the enemy general!"

The six thousand elite cavalrymen closed in like an iron wall, with flashes of swords and shadows of guns intertwined, vowing to trap these thousand cavalrymen to death.

Long spears stabbed like a forest, and scimitars slashed down like the wind. The Hu cavalry used their own flesh and blood and the bodies of their horses to resist the killing of the violent warriors. Even if they died, the corpses they left behind could still become an obstacle to the violent warriors' advance.

The battlefield space was rapidly compressed, and the pungent smell of blood filled the air!

Even in the heat of the moment, Mo Yu's gaze remained calm. On this battlefield, anyone could go on a killing spree, but the commander alone must maintain a cool head.

He could feel that the tribal warriors under his command were in greater trouble. The pincer attack of 6,000 elite cavalry was like iron chains around them. Dozens of warriors were pierced through the chest by swords and spears, and the snow was stained with blood. As they fell, they were still roaring and swinging their swords to kill the enemies.

However, he did not burst out with more powerful strength to lead the cavalry out of the encirclement. He still only used his own physical strength to maintain his combat effectiveness at an absurdly strong but barely human level.

Thousands of hammers forge iron, hundreds of forgings make steel!
Mo Yu knew very well that in order to cultivate a strong enough 'God of War', what was needed was not his own invincibility, but a group of fanatical warriors with a fiery fighting spirit under his command.

No matter how many weaklings there are, they cannot cultivate a god of war. At most, they can only breed a pool of slime monsters.

Heretics are often more terrifying than pagans.

For the God of War, cowardly believers are the most terrifying and disgusting heretics. Even just one of them will tarnish his glory and needs to be offset by the faith of a fanatical warrior.

The significance of this battle is for the second extraction. The protagonist of this battle is not him, but these warriors who fought bloody battles.

Mo Yu turned around and looked at the tribal warriors behind him who were still fighting desperately, with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

If they can break through this desperate situation and fight their way out of the impossible, every surviving soldier can be regarded as a seed of the military spirit.

They will become the backbone and foundation of the Church of the God of War. How high the Church of the God of War will start depends on their quality.

And in this tempering, the more Mo Yu controls his own strength to a level that is accessible to mortals, the brighter the military spirit he will eventually forge.

Military spirit has always been a way to unite the people, not a way to worship the individual!

If he swept through the enemy with his extraordinary strength, the tribal warriors would become dispensable in the battle. In the long run, the warriors would only rely on his invincibility instead of tempering their own fighting spirit.

Such faith is but a fragile attachment and can hardly achieve anything great.

(End of this chapter)