Frontier Hero: From Receiving a Convicted Woman to Becoming an Emperor for All Time

The next moment, the two sides clashed violently, leaving corpses strewn across the battlefield.

The corpses of those who died in battle were repeatedly trampled by horses' hooves, mixed with mud and ice, and frozen into a layer of dark red hard shell. They lay haphazardly at the mouth of the canyon, some of them barbarians and some of the Great Jing, intertwined like two knives that had been broken at the same time, the broken edges embedded in each other's bones. When the heavy snow covered them, it was impossible to tell them apart.

A cold wind, carrying the stench of blood, swept across the battlefield.

The screams of the living and the groans of the dying were mixed together, making it impossible to tell which side was shouting. Perhaps it was neither side. The sounds people make when they are about to die are all the same, regardless of language.

Just as Shen Chuxiao said, none of them can escape.

Come on!

Boerte stood with his sword in front of Wochijin, his eyes bloodshot, and he could no longer see how many people were in front of him.

"Didn't you want to kill the general? Come on! Step over me!"

Then a rider charged in, his spear like a dragon.

Berthe sidestepped the spear tip, his movements so swift they didn't seem like someone who had been killing for a long time.

With his right hand, he slashed up the lance shaft with his scimitar, severing four fingers cleanly as the blade passed, which flew into the snow. The cavalryman screamed and released his grip, but Berthe grabbed the lance shaft and thrust it back, the butt of the lance striking his chest. The man was sent flying from his horse, knocking over two men behind him.

The Jingnan Army surrounded them with guns.

Tie Niu squeezed through the crowd, grabbed a soldier who was about to steal a chrysanthemum from Ci Er Tie, and grinned, "This guy, let your grandpa Tie Niu handle him."

Before he could finish speaking, he was sent flying like a cannonball.

Two broad axes swung down simultaneously from the left and right, without any fancy moves, only brute force to the extreme.

Berthe sidestepped the first axe blow, parrying the second with his curved blade. The blade and axe clashed with a muffled thud, the immense force of which surged from the blade into his hand, numbing his entire arm and making him feel as if his bones were about to crack. He gritted his teeth and, instead of retreating, advanced, using the brief moment between the two blows to kick Tie Niu in the knee.

Tie Niu grunted, his body swaying slightly, and then swung his axe horizontally with a backhand. The axe blade grazed Bo Er Tie's scalp, shaving off a strand of hair, and a few drops of blood splattered on the snow.

Taking advantage of the situation, Bertie lowered his body, his curved blade slashing diagonally along the ground, the tip cutting through the outer nail seam of Tie Niu's thigh, drawing a trail of blood. Tie Niu, in pain, neither dodged nor evaded, but instead thrust his knee into Bertie's chest. Bertie raised his arm to block, but was knocked back three steps, his boot heels carving two deep furrows in the snow.

Before he could even stand up straight, Tie Niu had already pounced on him.

The two axes came crashing down again, heavier, faster, and more ruthless than before.

Bo'er Tie raised his knife to meet the attack head-on.

With a bang.

A thin crack appeared on the blade of the knife in Berthe's hand, extending from the edge to the back of the blade.

Iron Ox held the axe, but did not bring it down.

He looked at the blood-covered man in front of him with admiration in his eyes.

Berthea wanted to say something, but before she could speak, the sound of hooves came from behind her. Tie Niu turned around and saw Shen Chuxiao, so he took two steps back. But he never lowered his axe, the blade pointed at the back of Berthea's neck, ready to strike at any moment.

Berthe looked up at Shen Chuxiao. His eyes, blurred with blood, held no fear, only a chilling stubbornness, a preparation for facing death with equanimity.

Shen Chuxiao remained silent for a moment.

"You barbarians are not cowards."

At this point, Shen Chuxiao couldn't help but sigh. No wonder the barbarians were able to suppress the Great Jing border army for so long. After this battle, he finally saw the clues. He felt sorry for Boerte, who was willing to die for his tribe. How many soldiers like Boerte could the entire Great Jing find?

Even if there were any in the past, they all died in internal strife and were beyond redemption!

He withdrew his gaze, his eyes suddenly becoming sharp.

"So, I won't let you die in vain, but I also won't let you continue living."

Then, he slashed across with a knife.

Burte clutched his throat, using the last of his strength to turn around and face north, the direction where his home, his tribe, and everything he could never return to lay.

His knees slammed into the snow with a dull thud, and then he collapsed to the ground.

Only then did Shen Chuxiao approach Wochijin. Looking at this renowned grassland general who had nearly breached Ling Shuang Pass, he was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. In truth, neither side was right or wrong; they simply had different stances. The barbarians sought a way to survive for the grasslands, while the Great Jing sought to guard the border. Ultimately, they were both fighting for their own interests. If the Great Jing were stronger, it would have continued to send troops to suppress the barbarians as well.

But despite his feelings, he would not be merciful and would kill Wochijin. This would be a shocking event for the court and the public, and a great achievement was about to come. Why would he not accept it?

So he said, "Your brother hasn't gone far down there; he should still be able to catch up."

Wochijin slowly raised his head and looked at Shen Chuxiao.

"Even if you kill me, you still can't save this Great Jing."

Shen Chuxiao was silent for a moment, then nodded, and said noncommittally, "But this will be a good start."

So he swiftly raised his hand and brought the knife down.

Shen Chuxiao shook the blood off his sword and sheathed it.

Wochijin is right. One day, even without external invasion, the Great Jing will collapse from within. What he needs to do is to protect this pure land of his own when the building is about to crumble.

"The barbarians have hard bones, so we'll break them; our bones are soft, so we'll set them back together. From today onward, from the foot of this mountain, every single backbone of my Great Jing Border Army will be set back together!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the remaining Jingnan soldiers trembled, and some of them were already sobbing uncontrollably.

But they all straightened their backs almost at the same moment, the clattering armor plates making a clattering sound, as if an invisible hand was pushing them from one end of the line to the other, straightening every bent spine.

Fenglang Mountain still stands there, but now, it doesn't seem so majestic anymore; it's just a threshold made of stones and snow. For hundreds of years, no one has crossed it—not because they couldn't, but because they dared not. Now they have crossed it. The mountain is still the same mountain, but the people are no longer the same.

This has been the case for hundreds of years.

For the first time.

"From today onwards,"

"This place is no longer the border of Dajing."

He spurred his horse forward, its hooves pounding the last loose rock in the Fenglang Mountain canyon. A biting north wind swept across his face, and the grassland stretched to the horizon in the twilight. Gazing at this land that had never been trodden by the Great Jing cavalry, an overwhelming surge of emotion welled up within him. The four characters "Fenglang Juxu" were no longer cold and impersonal at this moment; they represented the path he was walking on.

"In ancient times, Huo Qubing sealed the wolf's lair and marched a thousand miles to perform the Fengshan ceremony between heaven and earth." He turned around and looked at the more than a thousand pairs of eyes burning in the twilight behind him. "Today, I, Shen Chuxiao, have also stepped over this mountain."

He pointed his knife forward and said, "It is impolite not to retaliate. The barbarians have been knocking on our gates for hundreds of years. Now, it is our turn to take the stage."

"Let's also make a trip to the King's tent of the Eagle Tribe, so that we may not have wasted this hundred-mile stretch of snow and wind, was not wasted on these loyal bones scattered on the ground, and was not unworthy of the name 'Fenglang'!"