Tang Dynasty: Starting with 3,000 elite cavalry, a bloody battle to retake the city.

If it were truly a request for help, why send a mere child? Wouldn't a scout be better? Wouldn't a messenger on horseback be more effective? Is Dingzhou really in such a dire situation?

Her gaze turned icy, a sneer playing on her lips. "You say you're bringing reinforcements back to Dingzhou? Then tell me—where are you planning to get troops from?!"

Zhong An choked up and said in a hoarse voice, "Chang... An."

"puff--"

Li Yingge burst into laughter, a cold laugh that cut through the night: "Chang'an is over three thousand li from Dingzhou! By the time you stumble your way there, and then turn back with your troops, do you think... how many bricks? How many bones will be left in Dingzhou?"

Zhong An shuddered violently.

Bloodshot veins burst open in his eyes instantly, and scalding tears streamed down his face.

he knows.

How could he not know?

But he had no other choice.

Because what he held in his arms was not a secret letter requesting assistance.

Rather, it was—a final letter.

He gritted his teeth, his voice ripping like tearing silk: "My father... will defend Dingzhou! General Ghost Face... will too! They will wait for me! They will definitely wait for me to return—!!"

boom!

Before she could finish speaking, Li Yingge's pupils contracted sharply, and a cold glint flashed in her eyes!

The Ghost-Faced General?!

He's still alive?! And in Dingzhou?!

She stepped forward, her palm striking with overwhelming force, and shouted sharply, "Hand over what you have!"

Zhong An neither dodged nor avoided, but reached into his robes, took out a bloodstained letter, and presented it with both hands.

The envelope was yellowed and the edges were charred, as if it had been snatched from a sea of ​​fire.

At the very top, the four characters "墨" (mo) are startlingly striking—

Last letter!

Li Yingge's fingertips trembled slightly as she unfolded the letter.

The first line of text made her gasp for breath.

"Your subject, Zhong Fang, the Prefect of Dingzhou, knows that death is not far off."

Once this letter is sent, the city will surely fall.

"May this letter written in blood reach Chang'an, meet the Emperor, and proclaim to the world: No one in Dingzhou surrendered, no one fled, no one was afraid—we fought to the last man!"

Each word was like a knife carving stone, each word dripping with blood.

This is not a cry for help.

This is a farewell.

This is not a military report.

This is—the last words of a city!

Li Yingge's fingertips felt cold, her throat tightened, and a thin mist welled up in her eyes.

She slowly raised her head and looked at Zhong An's youthful yet stubborn face.

So... this child didn't come to ask for reinforcements.

He came here to die.

He came to personally deliver the last vestige of dignity from Dingzhou to Chang'an on behalf of the entire region!

"Dingzhou... Well done."

She murmured softly, her voice hoarse, but a raging fire burned in her eyes.

The next instant, she turned around abruptly, drew her long sword from her waist, and slashed through the air!

"Order—the entire army to break camp! Set off immediately to reinforce Dingzhou! Travel 100 li a day, without stopping day or night! Anyone who dares to slacken—will be executed!"

The flash of swords pierced the long night, and the army roared in response.

Then, she turned to look at Zhong An, her tone finally softening: "Prepare a fast horse for him, the best one."

"Protect him all the way to the capital, until death do us part!"

Zhong An wiped away his tears, knelt on one knee, clasped his hands in a fist and kowtowed, saying, "Thank you, General!"

"drive--!"

"drive--!"

"drive--!"

Horse hooves flew, and dust billowed into the sky.

Li Yingge led his iron cavalry like a raging torrent heading north.

Zhong An, riding alone on a thin horse, carrying the souls of all the dead in Dingzhou, sped off towards Chang'an.

The setting sun, like blood, stretched his shadow extremely long and far.

It's like a road leading to hell.

Countless silent corpses lay on the road—the elderly, women and children, soldiers—all waiting for the moment a letter would be read aloud.

……

Chang'an, Taiji Palace.

Li Shimin suddenly sat up in fright on the dragon bed!

"Whoosh—"

The brocade quilt was thrown off, and cold sweat soaked through his inner garment.

His chest heaved violently, his eyes still filled with images of burning city walls, broken flags, and shattered weapons.

Empress Zhangsun hurriedly supported him, her voice trembling, "Your Majesty? Your Majesty, what's wrong?!"

"Dingzhou... Something's happened in Dingzhou!"

Li Shimin was panting heavily, his voice hoarse and broken: "I dreamt that... the whole city was covered in blood, and no one survived..."

He gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Dingzhou...

The last iron gate in the northern border of the Tang Dynasty.

If it collapses—

The world is about to change.

The iron hooves of Khagan Jieli marched south, like dark clouds pressing down on the city, heading straight for the heart of the Central Plains!

The northern frontier was already engulfed in flames of war, with one mighty city after another falling, blood staining the yellow sand, and corpses strewn across the fields.

Wherever the Turkic cavalry passed, not a blade of grass grew, and cries of despair filled the land.

Can……

It's only been a few days?

Youzhou fell just two days ago, yet it was recaptured by a mysterious general wearing a ghost mask?!

When the news arrived, Li Shimin could hardly believe his ears.

But if that's really the case—

What danger is there in Dingzhou? And why did I dream of flames shooting into the sky from the city walls, and the cries of the people shaking the fields?!

He suddenly sat up from the dragon bed, his heart pounding, his nightgown soaked with cold sweat.

"wrong……"

Whispers are like knives, slicing through the silence.

He strode into the imperial study, his gaze sharp as lightning: "Summon Li Junxian!"

"yes!"

Li Junxian strode inside and bowed to receive orders.

"Bring up all intelligence regarding Dingzhou immediately! Not a single piece of information should be missed!"

"As you command!"

A moment later, the desk was piled high with secret reports, like layers of blood scabs being peeled off.

Border battle reports, enemy movements, urgent messages from scouts... a barrage of messages shot towards Chang'an like arrows.

The army of Khagan Jieli is closing in step by step, and has reached the north bank of the Wei River, just a step away from the capital.

but--

Li Shimin's pupils suddenly contracted, and his fingertips abruptly pressed down on a map.

"etc!"

His voice suddenly rose: "Given Jieli's marching speed, they should have left Dingzhou two days ago... Why are they lingering here? And for a full two days?!"

The air seemed to freeze.

The next instant, a thunderbolt exploded in his mind!

He trembled all over, broke out in a cold sweat, and felt a chill run down his spine.

"I understand... It's Dingzhou! He's after Dingzhou! He was forced to stay because his attack on the city was thwarted!"

"quick!"

Li Shimin abruptly stood up, his voice hoarse and strained: "Immediately dispatch cavalry to thoroughly investigate the battle situation at Dingzhou! I need firsthand military intelligence, right now!"

Li Junxian turned to leave, but a roar that ripped through the night sky froze him in place—

"Report!!!"

A scout, covered in blood, burst through the palace gates, stumbled into the hall, knelt on both knees, and cried out in a shrill voice:

"Your Majesty... Khan Jieli ordered Huyan Zhuo to lead 50,000 elite troops in a fierce attack on Dingzhou for three days and nights..."

"Dingzhou—is in imminent danger!!"

boom--

Li Shimin felt as if he had been struck by a heavy hammer; his knees buckled, and he slumped onto the dragon throne, his face ashen and deathly pale.

late……

It's all over...

……

Outside Dingzhou City, the earth was soaked in blood, and beneath the scorched soil lay severed limbs.

The flames of war had not yet subsided, and the sounds of battle shook the heavens, as if the jaws of hell had opened wide.

Han Ye stood amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood. His white robes were nowhere to be seen, and his entire body was crimson, like a Shura war god crawling out of a pool of blood.

Where the sword points, heads roll off; where the horse's hooves tread, bones shatter like mud.

Three thousand elite cavalrymen, all wearing ghost masks and heavy armor, charged into battle alongside him.

But now...

Warhorses fell dead, knights perished, and fewer than two thousand men remained to fight.

It's not that they're not afraid of death, it's that there's no way back for them!

"Fight your way out!!"

Han Ye roared and swept his spear horizontally, piercing through and sending a Turkic centurion flying!

"Hahaha—How dare these barbarians trample upon our Han lands! Kill them!!"

"Pfft!"

A flash of light, and a splatter of blood.

A young soldier collapsed, clutching his stomach, still laughing as he cried, "Zhu Zi... Zhu Zi, you go first... Dad... is coming to join you..."

The other man, struggling to his death, grabbed his comrade's hand: "General...don't forget what we said last night...those who survive...collect the bodies of our brothers...carry the coffins..."

"Bring the coffin—!"

Someone roared in response, tears mingling with blood.

"If they all die... then let's just forget about it..."

"Hahaha, let's die together! What's the point of living!"

"No! I'm not leaving! I, Liu Chi, haven't even gotten married yet! The Ghost-Faced General promised to be my matchmaker! Hahahaha—!"

Before the laughter had even subsided, his throat had been cut.

The body fell, still clutching the long knife tightly in its hand.

The most tragic loss was not to Han Ye's iron army.

Instead, it was several thousand Tang soldiers led by Zhongfang.

Although they had reunited, they had no blessing or divine protection; they were merely flesh and blood, struggling against a hundred thousand Turkic soldiers!

Han Ye can cast buffs on multiple targets, causing the combat power of three thousand iron cavalry to surge.

But they can't.

They were deep in enemy territory, like a lone boat at sea, surrounded by enemies on all sides.

One by one they fell, silently, their cries drowned out by the iron hooves.

"puff--"

A soldier was pierced through the abdomen by a spear, his intestines protruding half a foot, but he gritted his teeth and charged forward until he crashed into the enemy general's chest, dying together with him.

Standing right next to this man was Xiahou Dun—the commander of Han Ye's iron cavalry, an immortal warrior summoned from the underworld.

The soldier who fell was none other than Lao Lu, with whom he had been drinking heavily the day before.

"Old Lu!!"

Xiahou Dun grabbed him and supported him, his eyes blazing with murderous intent.

Blood trickled from Old Lu's mouth as he forced a bitter smile: "General... promised me... you would collect my body... carry my coffin..."

As soon as he finished speaking, his head tilted to the side, and he fell silent.

Xiahou Dun remained silent and slowly laid him flat.

Then, he raised his blood-stained helmet, gazed at the smoke and fire filling the sky, his eyes devoid of joy or sorrow, only filled with the will to kill! Kill! Kill!

Behind him, Zhong Fang, his eyes bloodshot, roared to the sky:

"Kill them!! Avenge our brothers!!"

The three thousand masked iron cavalry roared in unison, their voices soaring into the sky that they caused the heavens and earth to change color!

In this battle, no one retreated.

This battle is solely for the destruction of the enemy, or for the destruction of oneself.

He's a living, breathing human being!

now.

Old Lu was no longer the brother who had laughed heartily with a wine jar yesterday, and who had fought alongside him to cut down enemy soldiers. Instead, he lay coldly in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, as if he were still staring at this battlefield—staring at every inch of land they had sworn to protect.

Xiahou Dun stood before the corpse, his face hidden by a mask, making his expression unreadable.

But those eyes... were blood-red, like lava boiling in their sockets, their killing intent almost tearing the air apart, burning people so much that they dared not look directly at them.

But Lao Lu's fall was only the beginning of this ordeal.

This is not the end.

The more than 1,000 soldiers of the Tang Dynasty, under the encirclement and suppression of 50,000 Turkic cavalry, were like candles flickering in a storm, about to go out.

With such a disparity in numbers, the outcome of the battle was already predetermined.

"Pfft!"

The sound of spears piercing chests rang out one after another, as crisp as harvesting wheat.

"Ah—kill!! Killing one is enough, killing two is a bonus!"

"Haha... Finally, it's my turn to lie down... Come on, you Turkic bastard, I'll be waiting for you to drink in the underworld!"

Screams, roars, and maniacal laughter mingled together.

Blood mist filled the air, and corpses fell in layers. The original team of over a thousand people was reduced to only a few hundred in the blink of an eye. Everyone was wounded, their swords dulled, their armor shattered, and they held on by sheer willpower to stay upright.

"You—all—must—die!!"

Han Ye suddenly roared, his voice like a thunderclap, and he charged in like a tiger charging into a pack of wolves!

He was covered in blood, and it was impossible to tell which parts were his own and which were the enemy's.

Wounds covered his limbs, his clothes were tattered like banners, yet he still walked with a gun in hand, killing with every step!

In his hands, the Azure Dragon Spear transformed into a deadly rainbow, sweeping across the battlefield. Its thrusts were like the roar of a dragon, and wherever it passed, Turkic cavalrymen suffered severed limbs, spinning and screaming as they fell from their horses.

He forcefully tore a gap in the entire battle line, and the enemy troops were so terrified that they involuntarily retreated several steps!

But just then—

"puff!"

A muffled thud of flesh and blood bursting came from behind.

Immediately following was a suppressed groan.

Han Ye's pupils contracted sharply, and he turned around abruptly!

It's Liu Chi!

The sixteen-year-old boy soldier was now surrounded by three Turkic warriors, covered in wounds and teetering on the verge of collapse.

Blood was seeping from his head, a bloody gash was cut open in his throat, his abdomen was hacked open with flesh torn up, and his legs were so badly cut that the bone was visible.

The most terrifying thing is—

A Turkic spear pierced his left cheek and right cheek, penetrating his skull!

Blood dripped down the spear shaft, yet he still smiled.

"General..." His voice was hoarse, his lips twitching, "Wife...you don't need to worry about her...I'll go to the underworld and marry her myself..."

Han Ye's vision went black, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly.

This silly boy, even on his deathbed, he was still thinking about getting married?

He almost started cursing.

But a lump formed in his throat, and his eyes suddenly burned, blurring his vision instantly.

"Liu Chi!!"

He roared and turned his horse around, his Azure Dragon Spear creating a storm of death, cleaving through blood and sending corpses flying, managing to fight his way back to his original position amidst the enemy ranks!

Just as Liu Chi was about to collapse—

Han Ye spurred his horse forward, pressing the tip of his spear against his back, forcefully lifting him up!

He looked down at the boy, whose face was covered in blood but who was still grinning, and reached out to pull him onto the horse.

"puff!"

Liu Chi coughed up a mouthful of blood and shook his head.

"General... farewell..."

His voice grew weaker and weaker, but his eyes shone with an alarming intensity.

"In my next life... I still want to be your soldier..."

Before he could finish speaking, his body went limp and he collapsed completely.

Han Ye's hand froze in mid-air, his fingertips trembling.

He gently laid Liu Chi down and held him in his arms, as if he were holding a sleeping child.

Then--

He carried the boy's body on his horse, his Azure Dragon Spear dragging on the ground, leaving a trail of blood three zhang long.

Step by step, I walked towards that hellish realm.

……

Old Lu has fallen.

Liu Chi also left.

Countless Tang Dynasty soldiers, whose names were never recorded, fell one by one amidst the yellow sand and blood-soaked mud.

The earth was stained dark red, mountains of corpses piled up, and rivers of blood flowed.

Zhong Fang, Han Ye, Xiahou Dun... they are still fighting, like trapped beasts, like lonely souls, knowing they will die, yet refusing to kneel!

They were already surrounded and had nowhere to retreat.

But they were determined to carve out a path to hell!

And at this moment—

The drumbeats on the city wall of Dingzhou have not yet ceased.

The white-haired scholar held mallets in both hands and struck the war drum again and again, each strike seeming to bid farewell to the heroic spirits.

Beneath the city walls, the people stood in rows, gazing at the blood-red battlefield in the distance, watching those familiar figures fall one by one.

Some people covered their faces and wept bitterly, some gritted their teeth, and some sobbed softly.