My grandfather's mother Li Yunlong beat up Langya at the beginning

The fighters from both sides came into close combat and instantly wrestled with each other.

Some soldiers used the guns in their hands as clubs, raised them high, and then smashed them hard at the enemy.

The moment the gun collided with the enemy's body, there was a dull "bang" sound, and the sound was still clearly audible in this noisy battlefield.

The enemies were knocked back by this great force, stumbling, and some even fell to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Our soldiers took advantage of the situation and continued to brandish their guns. Their movements were swift and powerful, and each swing was accompanied by an indomitable momentum, leaving the enemy no chance to breathe.

Other warriors quickly drew the daggers from their waists. The daggers flashed coldly in the sunlight, like the fangs of the god of death.

The dagger's blade was so sharp that it reflected the sunlight, making it difficult to look directly at it.

They gripped their daggers tightly and stabbed at the enemy's vital parts.

Every time he swung the dagger, it carried a deadly threat, and his movements were clean and neat, without any delay.

The enemy was not willing to be outdone and raised their weapons to resist.

For a moment, the sound of metal colliding echoed on the battlefield, and the sound of "clang clang clang" was endless.

The collision sound was like the sound of iron hammering in a blacksmith shop, but also like the death knell, which made people shudder.

Shouts and screams rang out one after another on the battlefield, and a life-and-death struggle was taking place in every corner.

Some soldiers were scratched on the arms by the enemy's daggers while fighting with the enemy. Blood gushed out instantly, flowing down their arms and staining their sleeves red.

The stinging pain from the wound made him frown, but he gritted his teeth, endured the pain, and continued to fight the enemy.

His eyes revealed a firm determination, as if telling the enemy that even if he was injured, he would never retreat.

Some soldiers were hit in the chest by enemy guns. Their bodies suddenly leaned back and blood spurted out of their mouths. The blood floated in the air like a blooming red plum.

His body fell heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

But at the moment of falling, he still stretched out his hand, trying to grab the enemy and die together with him.

His fingers were tightly grasping the air, his eyes revealing endless unwillingness and hatred for the enemy. Even at the last moment of his life, he wanted to give the enemy a fatal blow.

In this fierce melee, every soldier tried his best. For the dignity of the motherland, for the lives of their comrades, and for the glory of victory, they fought a desperate battle with the enemy without fear.

They rolled and wrestled on the muddy ground, their bodies covered in dirt and blood, and could no longer be distinguished from each other.

Every movement and every attack is for survival and victory. Their figures shuttle through the war, forming a tragic yet heroic picture.

The mercenaries did not sit idly by when they were attacked from multiple sides and their defenses were breached.

Their leader "Shadow" had red eyes, like a wolf cornered in a desperate situation, his eyes revealing madness and cruelty.

His face was distorted by anger and anxiety, and the veins on his forehead bulged like thick earthworms wriggling.

He knew very well that if they did not take action, only destruction would await them.

So, "Shadow" frantically organized the remaining troops, attempted to make a last-ditch effort, and launched a crazy counterattack against our attacking forces.

He shouted loudly among the mercenaries, his voice hoarse with anger and anxiety: "Everyone, get up! Fight them! We can't be defeated like this!"

His voice echoed in the mercenary team, like a death warrant, which made the mercenaries who were originally a little panicked cheer up again.

"Shadow" personally led a group of elite mercenaries and attacked from the side.

Like ghosts, they quietly shuttled around the edge of the battlefield, using the lingering smoke and chaotic situation on the battlefield as cover, and quickly penetrated into the gaps between some of our troops.

Their footsteps were light and swift, like the footsteps of a cat hunting at night, and almost no sound could be heard.

Every mercenary had a vigilant look in his eyes, holding his weapon tightly in his hands, ready to attack at any time.

The equipment they were wearing was slightly dimmed by the smoke, but the cold metal texture still exuded a dangerous aura.

When they approached the target position, they suddenly launched a fierce attack on our troops like a tiger out of a cage.

This sudden attack caught some of our troops off guard, and for a moment, the situation on the battlefield became more complicated and chaotic.

The mercenaries led by "Shadow" were holding various weapons and shooting wildly at our soldiers.

Bullets poured down on our troops like raindrops. The dense bullets flew through the air, making sharp whistling sounds, like a chorus of death.

Some soldiers were hit and fell to the ground before they could react.

Under the impact of the bullets, their bodies suddenly fell backwards and fell heavily to the ground, groaning in pain.

At the same time, they also used close combat techniques to engage in fierce close combat with our soldiers.

The mercenaries brandished their weapons, striking with their guns like clubs or stabbing rapidly with their daggers.

Their movements were swift and fierce, and every move was made with a desperate momentum.

They tried to cut off the connection between some of our troops, making it impossible for our troops to support each other, thereby causing chaos for us and regaining the initiative on the battlefield.

Although our soldiers suffered a sudden attack, they did not panic. They quickly adjusted their status and organized effective resistance.

Some soldiers were responsible for attracting enemy fire, deliberately exposing their positions so that the enemy could shoot at them and create opportunities for their teammates to counterattack.

These soldiers bravely stood in conspicuous positions, shouting loudly, provoking the enemy and attracting their attention.

When the enemy's bullets came at them, they dodged flexibly, using the surrounding cover and terrain, sometimes squatting, sometimes rolling, making it difficult for the enemy's bullets to hit them, while also allowing the enemy's firepower to be concentrated on them.

Some soldiers went around to the enemy's flank from the side, waited for the right moment, stood up suddenly, aimed their guns at the enemy and fired a series of shots, catching the enemy off guard.

As they circled to the flank, they carefully avoided the enemy's sight, using grass, trees, etc. as cover, and their steps were as light as if they were walking on cotton.

When they stood up and shot, there was a fierceness in their eyes, as if they wanted to wipe out all the enemies here.

In this fierce confrontation, both sides tried their best, and every soldier fought for his own beliefs and goals. The smoke of the battlefield became thicker, and the shouts, gunshots, and explosions were intertwined, like a cruel and passionate war symphony.

The strong smell of gunpowder filled everyone's nose, making it difficult to breathe.

With the mercenaries' counterattack, the battlefield instantly fell into chaos and anxiety.

Our originally unstoppable offensive momentum was suddenly halted by this sudden counterattack, and the situation became stalemate.

Part of our troops are advancing with all their might towards the core area of ​​the mercenaries. The soldiers' steps are neat and powerful, and their eyes reveal their determination to move forward.

They shuttled through the hail of bullets, relying on the tactical coordination they had previously formulated, and charged forward in an orderly manner.

However, the mercenaries' counterattack came swiftly and suddenly, like a violent storm, disrupting our originally smooth offensive rhythm.

The soldiers who were charging forward rapidly seemed to have hit an invisible yet solid wall.

The originally firm and powerful steps now became flustered and fragmented because of avoiding the enemy's firepower.

The soldiers' bodies instinctively made various evasive movements, sometimes suddenly crouching down and using the only cover around them to shield themselves;

He rolled sideways from time to time, trying to avoid the bullets that were raining down on him.

Every movement was filled with tension and caution, their hearts beating rapidly in their chests, as if they were about to burst out.

The rhythm of the attack was completely disrupted, and the tactical movements that were originally closely coordinated became difficult to carry out smoothly.

The soldiers' originally clear shouts and gestures were now drowned out by the sound of gunfire, making it difficult to effectively convey commands.

The two sides were thus caught in a fierce tug-of-war.

Bullets whizzed through the air like a dense swarm of bees, and the buzzing sound was endless.

Artillery shells exploded everywhere from time to time, and the air waves they raised carried dust and smoke, making the entire battlefield even darker and more hazy.

Every explosion echoed in the ears like thunder, causing pain in the eardrums.

In the midst of this hail of bullets, the soldiers had to avoid attacks from the front and be on guard against enemies that might attack from the sides. Their nerves were always tense, their eyes were fixed on the movements around them, and they dared not slack off in the slightest.

Commanders such as Leng Feng and Zhu Zhengting were in the rear command position, but they were as if they were on the battlefield themselves, always paying attention to every change in the battle situation.

The atmosphere in the command tent where they were was so tense that it seemed as if water could be squeezed out of it.

The table was covered with various combat maps, communication equipment, and intelligence documents. The lights flickered in the dim tent, illuminating the serious and focused faces of the commanders.