The Tyrant of the Great Qian Dynasty: Not only will I refuse to arrange a marriage alliance, but I w

As Huyan Ba ​​led his last personal guards and turned their horses to flee north in panic, the wolf-head banner, symbolizing the highest power of the Northern Barbarians, disappeared from the heights of the battlefield.

For the 100,000 Northern Barbarian soldiers below the city walls who were still risking their lives and using their flesh and blood to attack the Daqian defense line, their faith collapsed completely in that instant.

The omnipotent man in their hearts, hailed as the God of War of the Grasslands, their Great Chanyu, abandoned them at the most crucial moment.

A Northern Barbarian warrior was climbing a ladder; he had already leaned half his body onto the battlements, his scimitar about to strike a Daqian soldier.

But just then, he inadvertently glanced northward.

He saw it.

On the distant horizon, dust billowed as a small group of cavalry galloped toward the grasslands. The wolf-head banner he knew so well was rapidly receding into the distance, becoming a tiny black dot.

His climbing motion froze in mid-air.

The expression on his face shifted from bloodthirsty fanaticism to bewildered confusion, and finally to utter despair.

He got it.

He and his 100,000 comrades became expendable pawns.

All their bloody battles were simply to buy that man a little bit of time to escape.

He loosened his grip on the ladder.

His body fell from mid-air and crashed heavily onto the muddy ground covered with corpses, making a dull thud.

He did not die by the enemy's sword, but he died from the collapse of his own beliefs.

This scene is a microcosm of the entire Northern Barbarian army's siege.

More and more people have noticed the disappearance of the Great Khan's Banner.

"The Great Khan has fled!"

"Our royal banner has disappeared! The Great Khan has abandoned us!"

A mournful cry rang out from a corner of the battlefield, filled with sobs and boundless grief and indignation.

The shout spread quickly, igniting panic throughout the army.

"We were used as bait!"

"We can't go back..."

Such shouts echoed across the battlefield, spreading faster than the plague.

They quickly replaced the deafening battle cries and became the only dominant sound on the battlefield.

The Northern Barbarian soldiers' offensive came to a complete halt in just a dozen breaths.

The soldiers who were still climbing the ladder stood there blankly, unsure whether to go up or down.

The soldiers who were charging the city gate put down their battering rams and stood frozen in place.

Their bodies were limp, and the weapons in their hands felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. Many of them could not hold their weapons and let them fall to the ground with a "clang".

The collapse of faith kills the soul of an army faster than any sharp blade.

On the city walls, the Daqian army did not stop for a moment.

The Shenji Battalion's crossbow bolts did not stop; the arrows continued to reap lives.

The Mo Dao team did not stop advancing; the wall made of blades continued its unwavering march, clearing the space below the city.

Faced with these enemies who no longer resisted, or rather, who had lost the will to resist, the Daqian army showed no mercy.

Su Zhe's order was "to annihilate them completely," not "to crush them."

Blades and arrows reaped one life after another.

After a brief period of despair and dazedness, the northern barbarian soldiers were finally awakened by their instinct for survival.

They realized that now was not the time to dwell on who had abandoned them, but to survive!

"Run! Run!"

I don't know who was the first to shout it out.

All the northern barbarian soldiers seemed to wake from a dream. They threw down their weapons, turned around, and ran wildly northward in the direction they had come from.

But behind them was an even larger and more chaotic crowd of their own people.

Before them stood a wall of steel formed by the Mo Dao (陌刀) squad.

The entire battlefield turned into a chaotic and disorderly meat grinder.

Those who tried to escape were pushed and shoved by those behind them, crashing into the wall of knives in front of them.

The people behind were being pushed and shoved by those even further behind.

The entire Northern Barbarian army was thrown into complete chaos.

This chaos was not limited to the 100,000 "cannon fodder" below the city.

In the distance, the armies composed of various small tribes, who had been observing from the edge of the battlefield, no longer had any concerns or hesitations after seeing the Great Chanyu Zhen leading the escape.

Like a swarm of bees whose nest had been disturbed, they scattered in all directions.

They dared not head north, for that was the direction the Great Chanyu fled, and also the direction the Daqian army was most likely to pursue.

They could only flee like headless flies towards the mountains and plains to the west and east, hoping to get as far away from this terrible city and the demon on the high wall as possible.

A rout is a true total collapse.

The massive army of hundreds of thousands collapsed in less than half an hour.

Organization, command, and discipline—the very elements that form the backbone of an army—have vanished.

In their desperate struggle to escape, the soldiers pushed and trampled each other, and even killed one another in a fight for a narrow escape route.

The number of Northern Barbarian soldiers who died from the chaos and trampling was even greater than those who died directly at the hands of the Daqian army.

On the plains outside the capital, a human tragedy is unfolding.

From the top of the city wall, Su Zhe coldly looked down at this hell on earth that he had orchestrated.

His expression remained unchanged throughout.

He did not order a halt to the attack.

He knew perfectly well that mercy towards the enemy was cruelty towards his own people.

He wanted to use this battle to completely break the backbone of the Northern Barbarians, so that this hungry wolf of the grasslands would never dare to take another step south for the next hundred years.

He wanted to show all forces that coveted the Great Qian Dynasty the consequences of daring to extend their claws.

He slowly raised his hand.

The messenger beside him stood tall, awaiting the final orders.

"Open all the city gates." Su Zhe's calm voice echoed throughout the entire city tower.

"Pursue them on all fronts!"

As Su Zhe issued this final order, the heavy doors of the three city gates of the capital—east, west, and south—slowly opened.

The Mo Dao team, the Xuan Tie heavy armor Imperial Guard cavalry, and tens of thousands of reserve troops of the Beijing Garrison, who had been gathered behind the gate for a long time, all poured out of the city gate.

They joined this unprecedented manhunt.

Meanwhile, in the far north, on the only road leading to the grasslands, Chen Baipao and his three thousand Great Snow Dragon Riders, like a group of the most patient hunters, had silently caught up with Huyan Ba's tail.

The final showdown between kings is about to begin.