The cold wind whistled, and fine snow drifted through the air.
Everywhere was blood red, heroic songs filled the air.
The soldiers were fighting with bloodshot eyes.
"Come on! You bunch of bastards, your grandfather I..." The soldier spitting blood while swinging his sword, his words unfinished, was ultimately pierced through the back.
The Grassland Soldiers in front, seemingly unconvinced by his intimidation, also slashed him several times from the front.
His entire body was like a rag doll, shattered on the ground.
That bloody and beautiful scene lingered in one's mind for a long time.
One by one, the lives full of hot blood were thus ended.
There were many more such examples, synchronously being broadcasted on the battlefield.
The tragic intensity was unimaginable, and those still alive could not help but shed tears, crying out in pain.
"General, let us cover your escape! With your skills, you are sure to break out."
