On the battlefield, smoke filled the air and war drums thundered. Song Yunming charged into battle, his figure like a black lightning bolt, tearing through the chaotic battlefield.
His charge was so reckless and frenzied that the special forces soldiers following closely behind could see that their captain had fallen into a frenzy of battle.
"Keep up!"
A squad leader from the special forces, with a resolute face and a booming voice, shouted.
His order was as firm as a military command. Dozens of special forces members responded immediately, rushing to Song Yunming's side. Their submachine guns spat fire, and bullets rained down like a storm, sweeping away all the Judaism cultists who wanted to ambush Song Yunming.
This was a battle with a huge disparity in strength. A cavalry unit of 1,500 men faced a cavalry legion of 30,000 men, yet they held an absolute advantage.
The Judaism cavalry, once the pride of the battlefield, were now like wheat being harvested, falling in droves under the fire of submachine guns, their armor and battle flags shattered by the impact of bullets.
With each relentless assault, the special forces soldiers drew grenades from their waists with practiced speed and skill, as if it were a technique they had honed countless times.
They pulled the pin and hurled the grenade into the crowd of Jewish cultists. Instantly, a deafening explosion rang out.
Like a mountain collapsing and the earth splitting, the terrifying sound was deafening, causing the Jewish cavalry legion to fall to their knees.
The immense power of the grenade blasted the Jewish followers to pieces, their screams and the neighing of horses creating a horrific scene.
The Jewish cavalry, who had always believed themselves to be God's chosen people and invincible, now felt an unprecedented despair under the power of grenades.
On the battlefield, smoke and dust filled the air, blurring visibility, but the special forces members were as sharp as cheetahs, moving through the smoke and making every move precise.
Song Yunming's longsword was like the Grim Reaper's scythe, taking the life of an enemy with every swing.
The Jewish cavalrymen's faces were filled with fear and despair; their eyes no longer held the arrogance and confidence they once had.
They began to scatter and flee, trying to escape this nightmarish battle. But the special forces soldiers pursued relentlessly, their submachine guns spitting out deadly flames, felling enemy after enemy.
On the battlefield, the winds of war raged and the flames of battle were flying. Song Yunming, like a whirlwind, led his 1,500 elite special forces soldiers and, with lightning speed, tore the 30,000-strong cavalry legion of the Yushen Cult in two in less than 20 minutes.
Their charge was like a sharp blade cutting through bamboo, unstoppable, shattering the enemy's formation.
Faced with Song Yunming's fierce attack, Greenberg had gone mad. Standing on his chariot, his face contorted with rage, he roared, "Kill! Kill Song Yunming! Kill him! Invade Great Yan! I want all the people of Great Yan to be wiped off this earth!"
His voice was hysterical, like the roar of a wild beast, filled with endless hatred and madness.
Greenberg's eyes were bloodshot, and his face was filled with the utter ruthlessness of a villain. His lust for power and disregard for life were chilling.
He stood arrogantly atop his chariot, as if he could already see the dawn of victory. His arrogance made him forget the cruel reality of the battlefield. He commanded the battle with unbridled confidence, as if he were the master of his destiny, able to manipulate life and death at will.
Although his cavalry had been scattered, he still had more than 300,000 Jewish followers. Greenberg did not believe that 300,000 men could not defeat Song Yunming's 1,500 men.
His voice was filled with unparalleled confidence and contempt: "Order the troops on both the left and right flanks to encircle Song Yunming's special forces and annihilate them!" His command was as cold as ice, ruthless and merciless; he wanted to wipe out Song Yunming and his special forces completely.
On the battlefield, Song Yunming and his special forces were like tigers descending the mountain, and every charge they made caused the Judaism cavalry to retreat in defeat.
Song Yunming wielded his longsword with lightning speed, each swing carrying immense force, cutting down his enemies.
His eyes gleamed with determination and resolve; he knew that only by moving forward could he protect his home and loved ones.
Song Yunming took the lead, leading his special forces team like a sharp dagger, piercing deep into the Judaism cavalry legion. His charge was swift and direct, like a whirlwind sweeping away fallen leaves, completely unaware of the Judaism army that had quietly surrounded them from both sides.
The special forces brothers only had eyes for Song Yunming's heroic figure; their attention was entirely focused on him, and they were completely unaware of the enemy's encirclement.
As the Jewish infantry army closed in like an iron barrel, the special forces began to suffer fierce attacks from both sides.
Amidst the continuous artillery fire and rain of arrows, Song Yunming realized with alarm that he and his troops were heavily surrounded.
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and he immediately shouted, "Brothers, form a defensive formation! We're going back the way we came!"
His voice was firm and powerful, as steady as a rock, calming the morale of the troops.
The special forces team was highly mobile. Upon receiving Song Yunming's order, they instantly switched to a defensive formation, with the rear guard becoming the front guard, and slowly charged back in the original direction.
Their movements were swift and orderly, like the precise operation of a machine, demonstrating the special operations team's strict discipline and efficient execution.
The special forces' submachine guns were extremely powerful, with bullets raining down like a storm, and countless members of the Jewish cult died under their guns.
On the battlefield, blood and flesh flew everywhere, and cries of agony filled the air. The special forces' firepower was almost unstoppable.
However, to Song Yunming's surprise, these followers of the Judaism cult were not afraid of death. Like moths to a flame, they rushed towards the special forces team led by Song Yunming one after another.
Their eyes were filled with fanaticism, as if driven by some mysterious force, showing no fear even in the face of death.
Song Yunming frowned. He knew that this battle was no longer just a contest of strength, but also a confrontation of will and belief.
He shouted encouragement to his special forces brothers: "Brothers, we can't let these lunatics get close! For the sake of Great Yan, for the sake of our families, we must hold on!"
His words were inspiring and boosted the morale of the special forces.
Gunfire erupted on the battlefield, and countless Judas were killed by bullets. But they were a bunch of madmen, a bunch of madmen who had forgotten life and death, and they charged wildly at Song Yunming's troops.
Just as the entire special forces team was about to be surrounded, suddenly another cavalry unit charged out, carrying submachine guns and began to mercilessly fire at the followers of the Jewish cult.
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