Simulate the universe, starting with speedrunning Greek.

At this point, at least half of the figures behind him had disappeared.

His pupils contracted slightly, and those good men who had roared and risked everything with him not long ago seemed to be right in front of him.

The night was heavy with melancholy.

For the first time, I felt powerless.

Even the most invincible hero has things he can't do.

Those who believed in him and were willing to fight alongside him might have thought that they were simply too weak to keep up and thus were forever buried here.

However, in the eyes of the night, he was still too weak, far from having the strength to bear the hopes of these people.

'I—I'm still too weak.'

When did he become so arrogant that he believed he could be like Hector or Achilles, single-handedly leading a war and cutting through the battlefield?

But there's no time to be depressed about this.

Night simply made that all-too-familiar decision once again: "I'll cover their retreat—"

You guys go first.

Although this group of Spanish rebels did not have boats, they still had bows and arrows. If everyone jumped into the river, there would be no one to defend the riverbank.

Then the people in the river would become mere moving targets, unable to resist.

So—it's time to make a decision.

Karl was startled by Ye's words, then said in a deep voice, "I'll stay and cover your retreat."

The other soldiers also looked over, but Ye shook his head and said sternly, "Go!! That's an order!"

Do you choose to continue disobeying orders and have your head chopped off, or do you leave?

Which one do you choose?

The words of the night were not only addressed to Karl, but also to the soldiers who might choose to stay behind and cover the retreat.

Finally, everyone's eyes turned bloodshot.

They walked past Ye in silence, but each of them looked at Ye with a different gaze.

It was a kind of trust, a gaze that allowed one to confidently entrust their back to Ye, to regard him as their own brother.

Chapter Seventy-Six: Kill the enemy on sight! Kill the enemy on sight! Never look back! Never sleep!

Karl gritted his teeth and finally left with Tiberius.

But before he left, he said one thing: "If you die, I will take care of your family. My brother!"

Is there anything you want me to tell you?

Although Night had already revealed his invulnerability on the battlefield.

But Karl didn't think that Ye could have much of a chance of survival under such a terrifying encirclement; he didn't know where the limits of that powerful body lay.

But this man dared to risk his life for them, and for that alone, he deserves the respect of everyone present.

Night: "I have no family..."

...—at least not in this world yet.

Night's words immediately made Karl's voice tremble as if it were stuck in his throat, unable to be uttered any further.

For a moment, Karl was in a daze and forgot how he left.

After swimming some distance from the shore with Tiberius, a strong and uncontrollable pang of conscience continued to surge from within him.

In Karl's eyes, Ye was just like them, a Roman soldier with the same experiences.

That's probably why he was able to say those words that resonated with all of them.

But he still has his son to worry about—but what about the night?

He was so stupid—he said something he shouldn't have, touching on that man's sore spot.

He hurt his own brother with his own hands...

Mingming's initial intention was to help the other person.

"Don't die!!" Karl looked back one last time, staring intently at the shore where the fighting was still taking place.

Even if Ye was incredibly skilled, he couldn't stop the entire riverbank. At this moment, under the orders of the enemy commander, some rebels had already begun to draw their bows and shoot arrows into the river.

Carl dared not linger any longer; with someone still swimming with him, he was the slowest in the group.

So he could only look away and continue sprinting forward with all his might.

Hurry, faster! We absolutely cannot let our brothers' sacrifices be in vain.

Survival became the only thought in everyone's mind at that moment.

The traces of blood, whether from enemies or tears, that slid down their faces, accompanied by the washing of each wave, stained patches of the Ebro River red.

Some of them even had wounds on their bodies, their faces still pale, gritting their teeth and enduring the bone-chilling pain as they continued forward.

Meanwhile, on the shore, the night had already begun its own dance.

The long sword in his hand pierced through the iron helmet, went through the brain and came out, a red and white mess.

The spear in his hand moved like a whirlwind, stirring up a crimson storm.

Kill! Kill the enemy on sight! Kill the enemy on sight!

At this moment, Ye completely transformed himself into a war machine, with no other thoughts on his mind except for fighting.

Like the struggles of wild beasts, it unleashes the bloodlust and madness of their instincts.

He knew that, at least for now, there was no need to conserve his strength; all he needed was to unleash a brutal massacre.

If the longsword breaks, use the broken sword to slit the throat; if the broken sword shatters, use your bare hands to smash the skull, violently crushing the bloody mud across the earth.

He grabbed a Spanish rebel soldier, lifted him up, and delivered a flying knee strike through his skull, splattering blood everywhere.

He then stomped on the head of a rebel soldier who was trying to get up, causing it to burst open like a watermelon.

Ye's brutal fighting style was almost entirely devoid of defense. Countless attacks that landed on him produced a crisp sound like steel clashing, yet they could not shake his body in the slightest.

He roared, spread his arms and back, and stood in front of the Ebro River, turning his whole body into a killing weapon, constantly changing the weapons in his hands.

When an old weapon breaks, a new one is obtained from a killed enemy.

No matter what weapon it was, once it fell into his hands, it immediately turned into a meat grinder, unleashing a bloodbath on the battlefield.

Finally, after fighting for an unknown amount of time, people became afraid.

Fearful of the beast-like ferocity and savagery of the night, they surrounded Ye in terror, weapons in hand but no longer daring to advance.

According to post-war statistics, the Spanish rebels suffered 969 casualties in this battle, of which more than 940 were killed by a single person in the night.

In just a few minutes of holding out by the river, he almost completed a thousand-man kill.

Night created another myth within the Roman army.

And what about the twenty-nine heads of his men? Excluding those who were unlucky enough to be slashed by naked Roman soldiers in a frenzy.

Many soldiers who had fallen and fallen behind, but were still panting, now began to show wolf-like eyes, suddenly reaching out to pull down the rebels who wanted to go to the riverbank.

Knowing they were doomed, they placed their hopes and aspirations on their surviving brothers.

So—since they were already 'dead,' there's nothing to be afraid of.

Become a ghost and hunt them down.

We will use both hands and feet. If our hands are broken, we will use our feet. If our feet are broken, we will use our teeth to tear the enemy's throat. Even if we have to crawl, we will crawl out of hell for that common goal.

We must strive to gain enough time for the same cause.

A fire burned in everyone's heart.

Perhaps what they did was of no use, but their belief was noble and inviolable.

They will die as human beings, leaving no chance for the enemy to take prisoners or become slaves.

The captured rebels were terrified by the fighting spirit of these remaining soldiers.

They were so insane, so insane, that the rebels dared not keep any prisoners and could only give them their lives.

'What kind of will drives them to this point?' The Spanish rebels, who witnessed all of this from the rear, felt a deep sense of doubt and fear.

He couldn't understand how these few dozen people dared to attack his large army, and he couldn't understand how some of them actually jumped into the river and successfully escaped.

That terrifying will and fighting prowess—if every Roman soldier were such a monster.

How did we win before?

By this time, the Spanish rebel commander, who had probably guessed where these shirtless warriors came from, gritted his teeth and continued to perform his final duty, directing his army to hunt down those who had jumped into the river.

And after he roared loudly once again...

Suddenly, as if being stared at by a venomous snake, a chill ran down my spine and straight to my head.

The next moment, the commander saw only a cold light descending from heaven.

A spear shot from afar, descending from the sky and piercing his skull, pinning him to his horse.

This was Ye's attack after he had completely broken free from the constraints of combat and let go of his grip.

Night: Blame it on your soldiers for not having the courage to stop me. Your life is mine!

After delivering that final blow, although he hadn't used much of his stamina and had only employed a few throwing techniques, the intense, continuous fighting...

Thinking about the 25-kilometer swim that lay ahead, and seeing that most of the others had already escaped, Ye killed a dozen more soldiers who came to his aid…

When they saw those people, terrified, only daring to surround but not to approach the enemy.

Looking behind, the Spanish rebels' formation was suddenly disrupted and became agitated due to the death of their commander.

Night knew it was time to leave...

The next moment, he turned his back and slowly walked towards the riverbank.

Even at night when their backs were to the enemy, no one dared to launch a sneak attack.

With his formidable martial arts skills, the power to easily tear apart enemies, and an invulnerable body, it's undeniable that he inherited the template of Achilles and was truly born for battle.

"Monster—!" someone murmured, knowing they would never forget this moment.