After finishing the epic movie browsing in my mind, Desai returned to reality and was still in a cruel battlefield. The sound of fighting and gunshots from Zaragoza gradually subsided, and countless footsteps on the ground came quickly, from far to near, and the sound became louder and louder. Soon, some soldiers crossed their heads.

"What's going on?" Lieutenant Colonel Desay pulled a soldier who jumped into the trench in a panic. The latter actually threw his rifle aside, panicked, but was unwilling to pick it up.

"Sir, we are defeated! In the monastery behind the city wall, our army was ambushed by the Spanish, General Mondale was injured, and everyone else fled back. The Spaniards were human-eating devils, old men, women and children. They were not afraid of death, bullets and bayonets, and nothing!" The soldier said in a panic look on the horror scene he saw on the battlefield.

"Who is commanding the battle now?" Desai asked.

"I don't know, it's all in chaos, the platoon leader is dead, the company commander is dead, we can't find the officer, everyone is running back, everyone is running, I'll run too!" The soldier started to speak incoherently, dodging his eyes, trying to get rid of the interrogation of the officer in front of him while he was not paying attention, and returned to the safe rear position through the trench, but his efforts failed.

"What's your name, soldier?" Desai called the deserter again.

"Penduath, from Marseille."

Desai nodded, pulled out his pistol, pressed the trigger cover, and knocked the deserter's shoulder, loudly scolded the soldier named Penduwas, and ordered him to pick up the rifle on the ground and climb up to the trench with him.

Everything in front of us was a disaster. Nearly a thousand French troops were defeated unorganized, and no one was turning around to resist. They threw away their armor, gave up their dignity, and left the shame behind them to the enemy. Even more panicked people screamed terrifyingly, "Brothers, we are almost done, run away! Behind them are the devil!" The tide of fleeing soldiers became more and more intense, and the rumors that it was difficult to distinguish between true and false were wrapped around the engineers and wounded soldiers in the trench, and they also began to riot.

On the city wall in the distance, the Spanish who defeated the French army were busy happily, men, women, old, and young. Some had just loaded bullets and couldn't wait to shoot behind the French army; some were packing up trophy, from rifles to ears; some were waving the French caps with bayonets, waving left and right; and women were dancing flamenco dances around the bodies of the dead French army to show humiliation, and everyone was shouting loudly to scold the French soldiers who fled in a panic:

"Don't run, Frenchman, let my bayonet pierce your fart!"

"Come on, non-confucians, the priests send you to hell!"

"Go, the short emperor who brought your dwarf came here to die!"

...

Desai's face turned pale with anger. He looked around, waved his pistol and saber, and pulled Penduwas to try to stop the surging crowds, but this was futile. His flesh and blood were not hard granite rocks, which could not stop the rushing outbreaks. Desai was almost squeezed, but fortunately, Penduwas, who was quick-witted, helped the commander, and the two hid on one side to avoid the chaos.

"Thank you, thank you, Penduath!" Desai bent down, leaning against the soldier, gasping for breath. The unfortunate incident just now almost killed him, and he didn't want to die like this tragic.

The stout and short soldier with a simple face accepted the officer's gratitude and thought that he had saved the officer and would not pursue him as the first group of fleeing defeated soldiers.

"Penduath, are you a loud voice?" Desai asked suddenly.

"Report to the sir, I am a fisherman, and my voice can be transmitted from Marseille to Barcelona through the Mediterranean. More than ten years ago, my father followed a general to sing the Marseille to Paris." Penduas proudly replied that this was the greatest and only glory left by his father to the family.

"Okay, I need your help! Now sing Marseille with your greatest voice, so that everyone can hear it. Fast! It is the greatest voice! Like your heroic father!" Desai ordered.

The majestic hymns on the battlefield have always been a killer to boost morale and save the morale of the army. This Marseille song, originally called "The Battle Song of the Rhine Army", was originally lonely and unknown. It was when the Marseille workers sang all the way from the southernmost part of France at the time of the Great Revolution, sang a mighty journey into Paris, causing the once pessimistic revolutionaries to shout battle slogans again and saved the French Revolution.

Let's go! Children of the motherland,

The glorious day has arrived.

What is fighting against us is the most violent,

The blood-stained flag has been raised!

The blood-stained flag has been raised!

Listen, in the wilderness,

The brutal soldiers roared

...

Now the Marseilles sang Marseille at the most critical moment of the battle, singing this exciting battle song over and over again. Penduas's singing is not wonderful, and it can even be said to be unpleasant, but the sound is loud and penetrating. This heart-wrenching battle song can suppress the sound of gunfire and noise of the entire battlefield.

Time seemed to have stopped, and the fleeing soldiers stopped and looked back and saw no one clamoring, even the arrogant Spaniards could not.

"Good Marseille!" Desai patted Penduas on the shoulder and encouraged the soldiers to continue singing.

Not far away, Lieutenant Colonel found a lost military flag (Imperial Eagle Flag). He quickly stepped forward, picked up the flag, walked to a pile of rubble, waved it vigorously, catering to the lyrics and tunes of Penduath, and Desai also sang the Marseille song loudly.

"Hey, the person who sang Marseille is called Penduath, my fellow villager and comrade-in-arms!" Another Marseille soldier became proud and soon led other Marseille people, as well as all the French who could sing Marseille.

"Second Lieutenant, we should return to the Eagle's banner. The commander is ordering us to prepare for a new battle!" A company commander called his platoon leader and began to sort out the military appearance.

The passionate momentum of the Marseille greatly encouraged the soldiers, and the military flag waving by the lieutenant colonel was the order to reassemble. Soon, one, two; one, two teams, countless people surged again. They were no longer fleeing and crowding, but gathered in an orderly manner. More than a dozen drummers and trumpet soldiers picked up their instruments, surrounded Penduwas, and the temporary military band played the Marseille; under the command of the sergeant, the soldiers arranged in company-level columns, facing the direction of the enemy's main city wall, singing war songs, and resounding throughout the sky; the officers excitedly came to the military flag, and reported their names, numbers and ranks, and were eagerly looking forward to the order of Lieutenant Colonel Desay, and everyone was looking forward to a refreshing victory to wash away the previous shame.

This is the magical magic that combines Marseille with the Eagle Flag. Lieutenant Colonel Desai believes that once the team re-enters the battle, it will be like a roaring wave rushing towards the enemy formation, unstoppable.

"I saw the courage and wit of General Desai again. His son will be the best officer under my command!" Marshal Rana, who rushed over after hearing the news, looked at all this happily. He was very happy because of the outstanding performance of Little Desai corrected some of his previous views and should give young people more opportunities and opportunities to display their talents.
Chapter completed!