Can't a princess ascend the throne?

Chapter 340 She never said she was a good person.
“Father, I was just making a suggestion, I didn’t mean to go against your wishes. You are still seriously injured and haven’t recovered yet, so please don’t get angry.”

The fourth prince was caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he truly didn't want to fight the ferocious Jing soldiers behind him; on the other hand, his pride as a grassland person was precariously holding on. Before this, they had held an absolute advantage. Were they destined to eke out a living like the Central Plains people of the past?
After much deliberation, the fourth prince gritted his teeth and decided to obey his father's orders. The main reason was that if he disobeyed, there were so many brothers around him who were eyeing him covetously. During this period, he had shamelessly stood up for his father. If he disobeyed, countless brothers would want to take his place.

After all, as the ruler of the grasslands, Sachi Khan's children were practically everywhere on the grasslands.

Muldoon was running for his life when he suddenly noticed a blockage ahead. No, it wasn't a blockage, but rather people rushing back from the front! Before he could even speak, Namtso's expression changed drastically.

"Are they out of their minds? What's with all this talk of pride for the grassland people at a time like this?! As long as the green hills remain, there's always hope! Why aren't we running away? Are we just going to stay here and wait to die?!"

However, more and more grassland soldiers in front of them stopped their escape and turned to charge at the enemy behind them. Surrounded by so many people, Muldun and Namtso were like leaves in the wind.

These bastards, they wanted to die themselves and not drag others down with them, but when they saw the person riding in the carriage at the very front, both of them couldn't help but widen their eyes. It was their father, who was seriously injured and dying, yet still trying his best to straighten his back!

At this moment, regardless of their previous impressions of him, they were filled with emotion. Their father, after all, was still that proud man.

However, in recent years he has been blinded by victory and too eager to build a legacy that will be remembered by future generations. So much so that even their sons find him quite unfamiliar.

However, in times of crisis, the father Khan is still the Khan who roams the grasslands.

Even so, the two could not bear to watch their father die in the chaos; clearly, they had no chance of winning. But just before they shouted their pleas, Murden and Namtso caught a glimpse of Sachi Khan's seemingly casual glance.

"..."

The two suddenly fell silent, as if they understood what Sachi meant.

Murdon's lips were chapped, and he looked at Namtso in disbelief.

"Do you mean what I think it means?"

Namtso touched the wound on his chest, which was now completely numb, and every breath was excruciating for him. After a brief silence, Namtso suddenly lashed out and whipped Murdon's horse on the rump.

"That's exactly what you mean. You go first, I'll be right behind you!"

Before Murton could speak, he was swallowed up by the crowd, leaving only angry voices.

"Don't you dare exclude me! I don't want to be a deserter, Namtso, you bastard—"

Namtso suddenly chuckled softly, his laughter growing louder and louder. When he looked up again, he was once again the little prince whose wisdom resounded throughout the grassland.

"You big guy, you should shoulder the heavy responsibility of the grasslands. I'll stay here and fight them to the death! Don't make me laugh at you, do you really think being Khan is easy?"

Sachi noticed the situation and, to be honest, secretly breathed a sigh of relief. However, looking at his youngest son, whose face was noticeably pale, a deep pain still flashed in his eyes. He had killed countless people in his life, especially those from the Central Plains, who were like ants trampled in mud before him. But he never imagined that in his final moments, he would have to endure the pain of a father burying his son. But it didn't matter; he, as a father, would die before his son. After composing himself, Sachi actually stood up, leaning on a chair. Although his body was old, it was still tall, and standing at the forefront, he was like a flag, guiding the steps of all the steppe people.

An aged voice rang out amidst the clamor of the battlefield. Upon hearing this voice, even the grassland soldiers who had charged forward managed to restrain themselves and listen quietly.

"My warriors! We may die here, on our beloved grasslands. But are you afraid?"

The surroundings grew quieter, and Sachi's voice grew louder.

"Look up at the sky; this sky has always been here. When you look up, when you lie on the ground, when you are dying, this sky has always selflessly shone upon us all. I know death smiles at us from afar, and no one in this world is truly unafraid of death. But my warriors, you need to know one thing. No matter what, I will always be at the forefront of you, and I will die before you!"

"At this point, this battle is no longer a matter of life and death, but rather the honor accumulated by generations of us grassland people. I hope that when I enter the Eternal Heaven and face my welcoming family, I can proudly admit that I died bravely on the battlefield, not as a deserter!"

"Warriors, tell me. Do you want to charge ahead or flee behind?"

……

"Go, go, go! Kill, kill, kill!"

After a brief silence, a chorus of voices erupted. Hearing the deafening roar around him and the ever-closer distance between them, Sachi smiled contentedly. Even if I die here today, I will die alongside my army. Whether in the mortal realm or the underworld, I am the undisputed King of the Steppes.

As for that dream that was getting further and further away from him, he could not achieve it today, but before he died, he could still strike his enemies with force and lay the foundation for his descendants.

The distance between the two sides drew ever closer. The falcons overhead cried out mournfully, as if lamenting this rare spectacle of war. Regardless of who won or lost, this would be a scene recorded in history.

Looking at the dashing woman in silver armor charging at the forefront, Sachi narrowed his eyes. He seemed to see the woman who was invincible on the battlefield more than ten years ago!
"Ying Chongming, Ying Jiuque... no matter who you are, let's fight to the death today."

Picking up the long sword, which was unusually heavy for him now, Sachi swung it with difficulty, a smile appearing on his face.

In the very end, let me fight like a true warrior.

Ying Jiuque also saw the people who had charged back and were ready to fight, especially the steppe Khan whose hair had turned white and whose appearance had become emaciated in just a few days.

At this moment, she understood that the other side was preparing for a life-or-death battle. Even the two young generals, Wang and Li, around her couldn't help but tighten their grips on their weapons with solemn expressions. However, just as they entered the firing range, Ying Jiuque suddenly smiled.

She never claimed to be a good person.

(End of this chapter)