Shimazu Dairo's sudden attack was unexpected. He had just fought side by side to control the monarch and ministers of Ryukyu, but in a blink of an eye he turned into a murderous demon, and he was merciless.

Although the French soldiers are all veterans, they are soldiers from the hot weapons era after all. They are just woolen military uniforms and have basically zero defense against Taidao.

The Taidao, which is more than one meter long, inherits the production process of the Tangdao. It is extremely sharp. It can even be cut off with one knife and even half-pulled shoulders.

However, the French army's counterattack was extremely weak. Because the enemy and us were too close, the long rifles could not be washed away at all. Even if the French army on the periphery could perform one or two thrusts, the Japanese samurai's excellent armor could remove most of the force, unless they were particularly unlucky to be injured in the gap in the armor, the rest would simply ignore the bayonet's attack.

What's even more terrible is that Molière's order was to catch him alive. In order to prevent stray bullets from accidentally injuring Ryukyu monarchs and ministers, these soldiers had no bullets in their gun chambers.

This is a completely one-sided massacre. Even if the firearm is advanced and he does not have the environment to play, it will be useless. In such a small and dense environment, only cold weapons can exert their maximum power.

"Why, you group of lowly savage warriors, have I given you so little? Why do you betray me?" Molière was sweating profusely, and his long sword nailed through his thighs. The severe pain of the wound made him unable to move at all.

What was even more painful was his inner doubts. He couldn't figure out what he had done wrong.

Shimazu Dairo held the ribs in his hand and flashed in the crowd like a ghost. He had received the most rigorous samurai training since he was a child. He could kill people without a too-knife.

"Go to die, white-skinned ghost." The sharp ribs cut through the air like lightning, cutting open the soldier's throat, and the blood arrows spewed out more than a meter away.

The demonic face of Shimazu Dairo is now covered in blood, which makes the horror atmosphere on his body more lively and realistic.

There was no obstacle in front of him. He stepped forward and grabbed the handle of the Taidao knife nailed to his thigh, twisting his wrist gently.

"Ah, damn barbarian..." Molière watched the sharp blade spinning inside the muscles, and the severe pain almost made him unconscious.

"I am not a savage... Compared to everything you do, I am morally noble and can be called a saint." Shimazu Dairo said in strangely emphasized English, and then his wrist was thrust hard, and the sword brought out a blood arrow from Molière's flesh and blood.

"Ah." A painful scream shocked all the French troops present. Then Shimazu Daro Tadao played with his sword, and the blade pressed tightly on Molière's throat.

"The French listen, you can compete with me to see if your bullets are faster or my knife is faster..." As he was speaking, he suddenly shouted behind him, "Be careful, sir." Then a warrior rushed forward suddenly, and the sword light flicked up from bottom to top.

The sneak attacker was Major General Bruce and the two French soldiers around him. Just when Daro Shimazu tortured Molière with a sapling sword, Major General Bruce's eyes moved, and the two soldiers understood and picked up the bayonet and stabbed them hard at the samurai's pocket.

As for Bruce himself, he took out his pistol like lightning from his waist, and his eyes also locked on Shimazu Dairo's temple.

Unfortunately, he underestimated the training, close combat and chaos in complex environments that the samurai received since childhood were young, which were all compulsory courses for Japanese samurai. Bruce's every move could not escape the eyes of the samurai Shimazu Dairo.

"Kill." A sharp roar cut off the wrists of the two soldiers. The rifle had fallen to the ground before it could be stabbed out. When the sword force was used, the warrior's figure had already rushed to the front of Bruce's muzzle.

With a muffled sound, the revolver opened fire, and the bullet hit the armor on the samurai's chest. There was only a muffled sound. The bullet shot through the armor and drilled into the chest, and the blood arrow flew out.

"Sir, be careful..." The injured warrior did not retreat but advanced. He spread his limbs like a bear hug to block all the shooting angles of the bullet, and pressed towards Bruce step by step.

Papa... Three more shots, the crazy warrior's body shook three times, but still did not retreat. He roared and rushed forward, and actually saved General Bruce with a pale face.

"Crazy... you madman let me go..." The bloody demon face pocket was so close that it was almost kissing his face. The pungent smell of blood made Bruce's waist sore.

"Get out..." Bruce pulled the trigger desperately, and all the bullets snatched by the revolver were knocked out, but the ghost warrior still held him tightly and refused to retreat, but red blood flowed out of the sharp mouth of the demon's face.

This scene was so terrifying that not only Bruce was scared, but the French soldiers around him were also scared. They suddenly felt that the tribal warriors covered with dye in Black Africa were as naive as three-year-olds compared to these Japanese samurai.

The cold iron armor was crisscrossed with traces of swords and guns. The red eyes in the devil-like pocket were turning, and the sharp mouth was still vomiting blood. This was not human at all.

"Come on, please... save me." Amid the general's roar, the hands of countless soldiers deep under the observation stand pulled down the poor general and the terrifying warrior.

With a bang, Major General Bruce hit the ground in the back, and the dying warrior pressed hard on him. The French army beside him pulled it desperately, but they couldn't separate the two people at all. The dying warrior was like falling in love with Bruce deeply, and he never let go until he died.

Pup puff puff... The French army, who had no choice but to pick up the bayonet and stab it down, and specifically find gaps in the armor to stab it in. After more than ten swords, the warrior was considered dead.

Since ancient times, we have always been afraid of being stunned, and those who are stunned are afraid of being desperate, and those who are afraid of being desperate are afraid of being crazy. Of course, we are afraid of being crazy. Today, these crazy Japanese warriors have made all French soldiers know what it means to ignore life.

Not only do they ignore the lives of the enemy, they don’t even tell fortunes about their own lives.

Shimazu Dairo's hand was very stable, and the knife was placed on Molière's neck. He stared at the dead warrior calmly, and even recited a very famous Japanese poem about death.

"There must be light at the end of the hell of paradise, and the clouds and mists are all scattered. Only the moon is in my heart... Death is not scary. You have become a god. Don't go far. Please wish me a long-lasting martial arts fortune."

Molière couldn't understand what Shimazu Daro was saying, but he knew that he had encountered a pervert today, and he knew that he could not reason with such a lunatic.

"Give up, you won't succeed, you only have one hundred people... Look, the third wave of landing troops have arrived..."

Daro Shimazu looked up and saw that more than ten small boats came from the sea, and a new wave of reinforcements from the French army was about to land.

"Let's go, stand up, you are my hostage..." Shimazu Dairo pulled Molière and dragged him into the Ryukyu monarch and ministers like a dead dog. The hundred samurai had cut off all the French troops on the viewing platform, and the floor was covered with corpses.

The warriors leaned against each other on their shoulders and faced each other. The French army outside formed a large circular formation. They protected King Shangtai and the ministers and began to retreat northwest.

"Get out of the way...get out of here. If you want your special envoy's mission, hurry up and give way... Roll roll..." There was a lot of curses in the circle.

Molière's life was indeed valuable. After three swords were placed on his neck, all the French soldiers gave up their intentions to attack and save people, especially Bruce's face was pale now.

"Don't hurt the envoy... we can negotiate, we can negotiate..." The general cursed in his heart. Damn Molière, if you stay on the warship honestly, let me implement the plan.

I have to come in person, and I have to come to die in person, which really conforms to the Chinese saying, "What a good word is hard to persuade the damn ghost." I am so unlucky, why did I go on this mission with you?

But he was scolding in his heart, but the general also knew that Molière and Napoleon III had an extraordinary relationship, and some unclean rumors were even revealed in the Paris aristocratic circle.

Bruce could not verify the authenticity of these rumors, but he knew that Molière was the only person who dared to persuade the anger when the Emperor was angry, and even heard that Molière dared to suppress the orders conveyed by His Majesty the Emperor when he was angry.

Such close ministers around the emperor cannot be offended by an officer like him. Today he can die, but Molière can die.

The scene is very strange now. The warriors formed a circular formation to protect the Ryukyu monarch and ministers slowly moved towards Shuri Castle in the northeast. Outside this circle was nearly 300 red-robed French troops, and formed a larger circular formation to follow slowly.

The entire French army's rifle bayonet rushed inside, shining with cold light like a jungle, while the Tai sword in the hands of the Shimazu Samurai rushed out collectively, and blood dripping from the blade.

There was a small circle, and there was a big circle outside. The two circles moved forward carefully. They stared at each other and didn't dare to take action.

In the more peripheral cities, thousands of French soldiers formed a larger front to kill and set fire to the fire. Around this city, there were countless brave new soldiers and Ryukyu warriors, rushing towards the enemy like moths to the flames.

The chaos has already made everyone involved drunk, especially Molière, who even felt that he was having a dream that he would never wake up.

"Why don't you attack...attack, attack the enemy..." Molière struggled desperately, and the skin on his neck was cut by a too-knife, and he couldn't feel the pain.

"Bruce... Are you going to betray France? Order an attack. You damn idiot, attack quickly..."
Chapter completed!