Chapter 1641: Cruelty

At this moment, on the other side of America.

Qin Zhangfeng led the Indian Troops and the French Army in a fierce battle.

The cruelty of the battle was simply beyond imagination.

The battle lasted no more than two hours, but the Indian Troops led by Qin Zhangfeng had committed a staggering fifty thousand soldiers.

On the side of the French Army, there were a total of thirty thousand men.

Because they were guarding a dangerous pass, the thirty thousand garrison troops were almost impregnable.

On such a narrow, winding path, nearly eighty thousand people were gathered here.

Now, all strategies were ineffective in front of such a majestic pass.

All Qin Zhangfeng and the Indians could do was launch a frontal assault.

They had no Siege Cannon, no catapults, and even their weapons and ammunition were pitifully scarce, but for the sake of this city, they could pay a heavy price, even their lives.

The Indian warriors had become numb; in order to break the city as quickly as possible, they launched wave after wave of fierce attacks to buy time for the operations of the Indian Special Forces.

The attack was launched when the sky was dim.

Countless Indians were like a tide under the darkness, crashing against the reef named France; with every attack, the tide would shatter, while the reef appeared to remain intact.

Layer upon layer, the tide crashed madly against the reef.

Soon, the reef was battered until it was pitted and scarred.

The Special Forces trained by Qin Zhangfeng had already successfully infiltrated the city.

They were slaughtering in all directions within the city, and with the advantage of the darkness, they could better harvest the lives of the French garrison while lurking.

The Indian Special Forces who had raided inside looked at the second line of defense within the pass.

They were slightly stunned; Qin Zhangfeng had entrusted them with the knowledge that this pass was likely set up with two cities, divided into an Inner City and an Outer City.

Only by destroying the defense of the Inner City could they push the battle toward victory; if they only destroyed the Outer City, they would face even greater difficulty when confronting the second layer of defense.

Now, Qin Zhangfeng commanded the Indian Troops to charge madly at the external defenses to pin down the French forces.

Inside the Inner City, the Indian Special Forces launched attacks in the darkness; they harvested the lives of these Frenchmen like ghosts in the night.

The defense of the Inner City was soon on the verge of collapse under the assault of the Indian Special Forces.

It was not that the French Army had weak combat power, but that these Indian Special Forces had been trained by Qin Zhangfeng to be too eerie.

They had never encountered such a unit before.

They were as if they had come from Hell to slaughter the human world.

Their figures were forever lurking in the darkness, keeping company with the dark; such a unit was too powerful.

They could approach silently like ghosts and harvest lives like the Grim Reaper.

If it were not for the high number of deaths, these French soldiers would have had no way to discover the traces of this unit.

But even if they discovered them, in the darkness, they did not know how to launch an attack against these Indian units that were like ghosts.

There was simply no way to attack.

They did not even dare to light torches for illumination, because once lit, it would expose their own positions.

However, because the Inner City was difficult to enter, only the city walls could be scaled.

After the French Army discovered them, the stealth of these Indian Special Forces was completely invalidated.

Helpless, the Indian Special Forces could only engage in hand-to-hand combat with the French Army.

In hand-to-hand combat, although the Indian Special Forces held the advantage, they could not withstand the sheer numbers of the enemy.

In this battle where the strength was disparate and victory was almost invisible, the Indian Special Forces fought heroically.

In the short span of two hours, in this pass on the narrow, winding path—which was not a particularly large pass—the battle-bones of countless soldiers were buried here.

It could be called a river of blood.

There was no telling how many Indians with spirit had died here; Qin Zhangfeng looked at the mountain of corpses and sea of blood in the darkness.

To others, this was the road to Hell.

But to the Indians, this was their road to Heaven.

The moment the heavy city gate slowly opened, Qin Zhangfeng clenched his fists, and the Indians immediately raised the weapons in their hands, ready to kill the enemy at any time.

But seeing the scene inside, the Indians were suddenly stunned, and teardrops pattered onto the earth.

There was light ahead, though it was dim.

However, it illuminated the road ahead.

Holding torches, the Indians, covered in bloodstains and dragging their heavy bodies, looked at the surviving Indian Troops outside the gate and roared with trembling voices: "We are home!"

Their homeland had long been occupied by the French and the British.

Some did not live in North America, this piece of land.

Their homelands had long been destroyed.

The home they were returning to was not the jungles of the past.

The home they were returning to was Yun City, which the Longyan had helped them build.

That was the capital city of the Indians.

It was the new homeland established by the Indians with the help of the Longyan.

Countless Indians wept because of this.

Qin Zhangfeng took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and unclenched his clenched fists.

He seemed to hear the approaching French Army; there was no time for sentimentality now, as the French reinforcements were right behind them.

If they encountered the French Army now, then the pass they had fought so hard to capture, and the countless sacrifices, would all be for nothing.

There was no time for sentimentality, and even less time to clear the battlefield.

Qin Zhangfeng took a deep breath and said in a low voice: "The war is not over yet, the crisis has not been resolved, we must go!"

Upon hearing these words, the Indians all revealed expressions of sorrow.

Between heaven and earth, there was only indifference.

As a Longyan, he knew even better that there are two major events in life that must be attended to, no matter what.

One is marriage.

The other is life and death, though he did not know if the Indians had similar customs.

But for Qin Zhangfeng, being unable to bring back the corpses of his comrades-in-arms and unable to let them be buried in their own homeland was a heavy blow.

However, the departed are now gone, yet they have left behind the hope of life.

Qin Zhangfeng already had a very deep friendship with these Indians, with whom he had spent very little time, as they were all people who had experienced life and death together.

Qin Zhangfeng was a man who valued emotions, and his mood at this moment felt as if it were being repeatedly kneaded by an invisible giant hand.

Yet there was nothing he could do.

Seeing that the Indians were not moving, Qin Zhangfeng knew in his heart that there must be someone to lead them now.

Qin Zhangfeng temporarily suppressed the sorrow in his heart, leaped onto his horse, and led the charge.

With someone leading, there were naturally those who followed.

Those Indians watched as Qin Zhangfeng led them toward the path of light, looking at Qin Zhangfeng as if he were a beam of light.

The Indians gave chase, and the insurgent army marched south all the way...

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