Li Shimin faked his death? Then I will be powerful enough to conquer the world!

Chapter 780 Back home

The desert wind and sand carried gravel, like countless fine blades scraping the faces of the Tang army soldiers.

The hot sand hit the bronze face armor and chain mail, making a harsh sound.

The setting sun dyed the sky dark red, like a silk painting soaked in blood.

Pei Xingjian stood under the watchtower at the highest point of the camp. The tower, built of rough logs, trembled slightly in the strong wind.

The sweat that seeped through the gaps in his armor had long been evaporated by the hot air, leaving only layers of salt stains.

He looked at the towering walls of Damascus in the distance, which were made of ochre-red bricks.

The densely packed Arab defenders on the city wall, armed with scimitars and shields, shuttled back and forth between the battlements, and cowhide lanterns lit up one after another.

Pei Xingjian stroked the tiger talisman in his hand. The cool bronze surface was engraved with a lifelike tiger, but it could not dispel the burning sensation in his palm - it was the burning pain left by reviewing military reports for three consecutive nights.

"Where are the shells? How long will it take for them to catch up?"

His voice seemed to be squeezed out from deep in his chest, hoarse and heavy, and every word was filled with helplessness.

As his Adam's apple rolled, he tasted the smell of blood - it was an old illness caused by days of sleeplessness, and the symptoms of hemoptysis began to recur.

The messenger knelt on one knee, his coarse leggings stained with mud and blood. The sweat on his forehead dripped down his cheeks onto the dry sand, instantly absorbed by the scorching ground.

"General, the artillery shells...I'm afraid it will take another half month for the artillery shells to arrive."

The young soldier's voice trembled slightly. "The camel caravan encountered an avalanche on the Pamir Plateau. Twenty artillery vehicles fell into the icy valley. The survivors had to cross the desert on foot."

Before he could finish his words, a gust of wind blew up the sand and tore the second half of the sentence into pieces.

Pei Xingjian closed his eyes, and the city of Chang'an, thousands of miles away, appeared in his mind.

The morning bells of Suzaku Street, the eaves of Daming Palace, and His Majesty's edict were still before my eyes: "Conquer Damascus within ten months!"

He had planned to wait for the ammunition for the Qianwu cannon to arrive, and then take over this fortified city at the lowest cost by relying on the Tang Dynasty's advanced firearms.

But now, the army only has 20,000 artillery shells left, which is only enough for one round of salvo.

These precious shells must be used at the most critical moment and must not be easily consumed here.

"Go call the fire chief."

Pei Xingjian suddenly spoke.

When the twelve captains of the musket teams lined up, he pointed to the red flags planted on the sand table and said, "From tonight onwards, each team must consume 50 kilograms of gunpowder every day."

The generals looked at each other in bewilderment. The youngest fire chief couldn't help but say, "General, at this rate of consumption, in three days..."

"Then let the gunpowder explode in the enemy's chest!"

Pei Xingjian slammed his hand on the table, sending sawdust scattering from the sand table. "Tell the brothers, every lead bullet you fire will result in three times as many enemies!"

Night fell over the camp, the light of torches flickering in the wind. Pei Xingjian paced back and forth in his tent. On the sheepskin map, the death toll marked in cinnabar had already overflowed the Euphrates River.

The wails of wounded soldiers could be heard outside the tent, mixed with the bitter smell of herbs boiled by the army doctor.

He recalled the day he set out for the battle, when the people of Chang'an lined the streets to see him off. The young soldiers wore amulets sewn by their mothers around their waists, and their faces still retained their childish innocence.

Today, those vivid faces are turning into cold numbers under the city walls.

"General, our army lost over 30,000 men in today's siege, and the exact number is still being counted."

The lieutenant's voice broke the dead silence. Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the cowhide tent, illuminating the congealed bloodstains on his armor.

Pei Xingjian nodded, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes. "Collect the bodies, cremate them according to military regulations, and bring their ashes back to the Tang Dynasty."

"This land is too far from home. It cannot bury the heroic spirit of my Tang Dynasty."

His voice was low, and every word he said was filled with respect for the soldiers.

Suddenly, he started coughing violently, and scarlet spots appeared on his handkerchief, but he quickly stuffed it into his sleeve.

Just as he finished speaking, another soldier rushed into the tent. "Report! General, our rear army was attacked by barbarians. They attacked our rear army with Greek fire. Now they have been completely wiped out. However, our army has suffered some casualties, and the exact number of casualties is still being counted."

"Let's get to the bottom of this and find out who it is."

Pei Xingjian frowned, the appearance of Greek fire made him feel nervous.

This dangerous weapon, once used properly, is enough to change the course of battle.

The blue liquid could not be extinguished by water, which was very scary.

"Pass the order down. All tents must be built with rammed earth. Open flames are strictly prohibited near water sources!"

As the night deepened, the lights in the military camp gradually went out.

Pei Xingjian couldn't fall asleep, so he walked towards the funeral ground alone.

Under the moonlight, the corpses covered with white cloth were lined up neatly, and the night wind blew past, stirring up waves of white.

He squatted down and gently uncovered the white cloth covering a corpse - it was a young man with freckles all over his face, with a half-eaten Hu pancake tied around his waist.

"Once we capture Damascus, I'll take you home."

He muttered to himself, stroking his fingers across the boy's cold forehead, and suddenly found that his palm was tightly clenched with a silver lock with the words "Long Life" engraved on it.

The next morning, the sound of horns pierced the sky.

The Tang army soldiers were ready to go. Their faces were tired, but they also had the determination to face death.

The siege started again, and the huge stones thrown by the catapults hit the city walls, and the splashing bricks and stones were like a rainstorm.

Arrows rained down from the city walls, and the muffled sound of arrows piercing through shields and screams echoed one after another.

The Tang soldiers held up their shields, shouted and rushed towards the city wall, set up ladders, and fought a desperate battle with the Arab defenders on the wall.

"For the Tang Dynasty!" A fire captain waved a smoking musket and jumped onto the top of the city wall, but his arm was cut off by a scimitar.

He pulled the trigger at the moment of falling, and the lead bullet pierced the throats of three enemies.

In order to be the first to reach the city, the young people opened fire and bravely attacked the city.

Their muskets spewed out tongues of flame, and the Arabs suffered heavy losses under the attack of the Tang army.

Even though the Tang army had the advantage of firearms, the casualty ratio was one to one.

Outside the city of Damascus, corpses were scattered all over the ground, blood dyed the sand dark red, and the air was filled with a strong smell of blood.

Late at night on the third day, the Arab counterattack came unexpectedly. As the exhausted Tang soldiers gnawed on cold, hard millet cakes, a myriad of sparks suddenly lit up from the city walls—arrows coated in pitch.

A rain of burning arrows poured down, instantly igniting the siege equipment, and the flames shot up into the sky along the ladders.

"Greek fire! It's Greek fire!"

Amidst the terrified shouts, several pottery bottles fell from the top of the city wall. Blue flames spread among the crowd like living things. The soldiers screamed and rolled over, but the flames spread to more people.

Pei Xingjian personally beat the war drum, and the sound of the drum was so loud that it made people's hearts tremble.

"Bury it with sand!"

He swung his sword to chop off the Arab suicide squad, but saw his most trusted vanguard officer on fire, rolling down the city wall holding two enemies.

At that moment, he suddenly remembered the words in the military book "Kindness cannot be used to command an army", but when the hot blood splashed on his face, he understood that a true commander of an army must crush kindness and swallow it along with blood and tears.

For the next three days, the Tang army attacked the city day and night.

"The Tang army's offensive is too fierce. We can't hold on any longer. We've used up all our defenses. The Tang army is about to break through!"

Inside the city of Damascus, the shouts of the Arab defenders were filled with despair.

"Open the city gate, open the city gate, rush out and fight them!" The Arab generals waved their weapons and shouted at the top of their lungs.

When the heavy city gate slowly opened, women and children in headscarves, holding kitchen knives and farm tools, poured out together with the Arab cavalry.

The sunlight shone into their eyes, and Pei Xingjian couldn't tell whether it was tears or murderous intent.

"General! The Arabs are charging out!" A messenger galloped up to Pei Xingjian on horseback and shouted, "They can't hold on any longer and are ready to fight to the death! The women and children are coming out too. General, look..."

Pei Xingjian looked at the battlefield with cold eyes.

This is a battlefield, there is no mercy.

"Whether they are women or children, this is a battlefield. As long as they hold weapons, they are our enemies."

His voice echoed across the battlefield, carrying unquestionable majesty, "Kill! After we capture the city, leave no one alive."

"I will use the people of this city as a sacrifice to the souls of my fallen soldiers!"

When the Tang army soldiers received the order, a hint of hesitation flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the flames of revenge.

They brandished their weapons and rushed towards the Arabs, their shouts of killing shaking the earth.

When the scimitars collided with the spears, and when the cries of women and children mixed with the clang of weapons, Pei Xingjian suddenly saw an Arab girl stabbing a dagger into the chest of a Tang soldier, and before the soldier fell, he used his last bit of strength to protect the baby in her arms.

When the sun set again, the streets of Damascus were filled with blood.

Pei Xingjian climbed up the city wall by stepping on the piles of corpses. The sound of camel bells from the caravan could be heard faintly in the distance.

He took off his blood-stained cloak, wrapped it around the still-living body of a soldier, and whispered, "Let's go home. Let's go home."