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

"General..."

"That...that's...the masked warrior..."

"They're all...they're all dead..."

"But look at their posture... they're... fighting! They're fighting even as they die!!"

His voice trembled, almost choking up.

At the foot of the mountain, corpses lay strewn everywhere.

Hundreds of corpses lay silently in the blood and mud, though they were no longer moving, not a single one had fallen or given in.

They maintained their final fighting stance—

Some had torn corners of their mouths and distorted faces, as if they were still roaring and howling;

Some held their broken swords high with both hands, their muscles tense, as if they were about to split open the enemy's skull;

Some spears were planted on the ground, one knee bleeding, yet they still charged forward!

The warhorse beneath him was already dead, its fur stained red, its eyes hollow, yet it still thrashed its front hooves against the ground, as if charging forward even in its final moments!

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Blood flowed in channels, soaking the yellow earth, and the stench lingered for miles.

silence.

A deathly silence.

Among the five thousand armored men, not one could hold back the tears welling up in their eyes.

Some people lowered their heads and silently took off their helmets.

Some people dismounted and slammed one knee heavily into the mud.

One person takes the lead, and a thousand follow.

Whoosh—!

In perfect unison, five thousand soldiers stood as still as pines, tears welling in their eyes, and roared in unison:

"glory--!"

"glory--!"

"glory--!"

The sound shook the heavens, startling flocks of crows into flight, and even the sky and earth seemed to change color.

Li Yingge gritted her teeth, her throat bobbing, forcing the tears back into her eyes.

She spoke in a hoarse voice, each word like a knife: "Erect a monument on the spot and inscribe your name to commemorate your merits."

Search for three more days, if they still can't find them... take them home.

"yes!"

Over the next few days, the army traversed the ancient road under the setting sun.

The Ghost-Faced General was not found.

But new corpses kept being discovered—team one, team two, team three… Every place was a scene of fierce battle, and every corpse was still clutching a blade in its death.

It was as if a bloodline was silently guiding some kind of doomsday prophecy.

Ten days later.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated along the banks of the Wei River.

The Tang army camp was ready, with banners unfurled and chariots arrayed, awaiting only the return of one man.

Li Shimin stood alone on the riverbank, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the frontier.

His eyes were red, his brows were furrowed, and he was as silent as a stone statue.

He had waited too long.

"despair……"

"Tap, tap..."

In the distance, the sound of horses' hooves finally came.

At first it was faint, then it became clearer, and then it became more and more urgent!

Li Shimin suddenly looked up, his eyes gleaming!

Changsun Wuji rushed over, his voice excited: "Your Majesty! The Divine General Li Yingge has returned!"

"Let's go!" Li Shimin took a step forward. "I will personally welcome her!"

He led his men forward to meet them, and saw Li Yingge, covered in dust and his armor stained with blood, leading five thousand iron cavalry slowly back.

But... there is no Ghost Face General.

Only the corpses, wrapped in white cloth, were securely tied to the horses and returned with them.

Li Shimin paused, his heart sinking.

He gazed at the rows of silent bodies, his voice low and hoarse: "This is...?"

Li Yingge dismounted, knelt on one knee, and said in a trembling voice, "Your Majesty... I have been unable to find any trace of the Ghost-Faced General."

Having found the remains of these loyal souls… I could not bear to leave them exposed in the wilderness, therefore… I brought them back to Chang'an.”

She paused, then spoke each word with immense weight:

"The Ghost-Faced General... his fate is unknown."

The wind suddenly stopped.

The world seemed to stand still.

Li Shimin stood there motionless for a long time, his eyes gradually reddening until they became moist.

He looked up at the sky, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice so soft it was almost a soliloquy:

"In the end... I still lost him..."

Qin Shubao has already been lost! Now, the Ghost-Faced General has also been lost!

For Li Shimin, this was not a defeat, but a heart-wrenching pain!

He stood on the banks of the Wei River, his gaze slowly sweeping over the corpses scattered on the ground.

The corpses of those masked warriors stood frozen as if in their last moments—gripping their swords, holding their spears, roaring, their faces covered by hideous masks. Even in death, they seemed to be roaring with resentment and fighting spirit.

Even just looking at it from afar, you can feel the overwhelming, brutal killing intent emanating from it.

It was as if they were not dead, but still fighting for their lives against enemies in the void!

Li Shimin stepped forward slowly and lightly touched the cold cheek of a soldier with his fingertips.

Beneath the ghost mask, the blood had congealed, yet the eye sockets remained wide open, as if trying to pierce through to the underworld and take one last look at this land.

He finally bowed his head, bending deeply into his imperial posture, and said in a deep voice, "Gentlemen...you are glorious."

"Splash—"

Changsun Wuji, Li Jing, Yuchi Gong, and the others knelt down in unison, their eyes bloodshot, their voices shaking the heavens:

"glory!"

"glory!!"

"glory!!!"

Three shouts echoed through heaven and earth, each word dripping with blood, each sentence filled with tears!

Not for power or fame, but for these people who, knowing they were doomed, still fought to the death!

For that one breath alone, they deserve the utmost respect from the entire Tang Dynasty!

Li Shimin gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse but resolute: "Guards! Bring white cloths and carry the corpses! Wrap each one securely on a stretcher—I will carry the coffin myself!"

"Order the entire army—dismount! Lead the horses and walk to escort the coffin back to the capital! Anyone who dares to ride a horse will be executed on the spot!"

boom!

As soon as the imperial decree was issued, the 100,000-strong army immediately changed formation.

Qin Shubao's body has been placed in the imperial coffin, while the remaining masked soldiers were carried away from the battlefield by the elite troops of the Tang Dynasty, each on a white cloth stretcher.

Li Shimin walked at the front, carrying a rope on his shoulder, his steps heavy as if dragging a mountain.

The entire army dismounted and marched on foot, solemn and silent, with only the soft rustling of armor echoing in the wind like a mournful song.

The once blood-stained banks of the Wei River are now empty and desolate. The setting sun, like blood, casts a bleak light on the earth, as if even the wind is howling.

At the same time, Li Yingge placed the Azure Dragon Spear steadily on the imperial coffin—this was an order personally given by Li Shimin.

Qin Shubao died on the battlefield!

The Ghost-Faced General's fate is unknown!

But both of them were heroes who upheld the backbone of the Tang Dynasty!

Even if Han Ye is missing, his gun must be brought back to Chang'an!

The world must know: the heroes of the Tang Dynasty, even if they fall, will return to the court with dignity!

Li Yingge stood at the back of the line, turning back to look at the desolate battlefield. Her beautiful eyes trembled slightly, and her lips parted gently, whispering as softly as the wind:

"Han Ye... are you really dead?"

……

The frontier, deep in the grasslands.

In a low-lying valley, warhorses neighed, and the air was thick with the stench of blood.

Gongsun Zan's white clothes were already soaked in blood, as if he were wearing a blood-stained robe. His spear flew in his hand, and each thrust brought a flash of blood.

Behind him, only a thousand White Horse Cavalrymen remained, all wounded and with shattered armor, yet they still held fast to their formation, protecting the unconscious figure in the center—Han Ye.

Behind them, five thousand Turkic cavalrymen followed like shadows, roaring incessantly like demons chasing souls from hell:

"Kill! Kill the Ghost-Faced General!"

"He must be buried with the Khan!"

"Don't let a single one escape! Chase after them!!"

These were all the personal guards of Jieli Khan.

With their lord dead, the army collapsed and fled in disarray. Only they remained, clinging to Han Ye like madmen, determined to tear him to pieces!

"Damn it... we can't delay any longer!" Gongsun Zan roared, his eyes bloodshot, "Xiao Liu! Take the general and go! Go find His Majesty! I'll lead the rest to cover our retreat! We'll hold them off for as long as we can!"

"Yes!" Xiao Liu responded, drew his sword, and turned to catch Han Ye.

At that very moment—

"Snapped!"

A powerful hand, covered in blood, suddenly pressed down on Gongsun Zan's shoulder!

Everyone turned around abruptly!

Han Ye, who had been unconscious on horseback, slowly opened his eyes.

His eyes snapped open, like a drawn sword, gleaming with a chilling light!

"Awake?" Gongsun Zan shuddered, his voice trembling. "You...you're awake?!"

Blood trickled from the corner of Han Ye's mouth, yet he grinned, his voice hoarse as if sand had been grinding against metal.

"If he doesn't wake up soon... won't I really be abandoned by you?"

He propped himself up and looked around.

Behind them, the Turkic cavalry continued their frenzied advance, their battle cries deafening and their hooves thundering.

"Kill him! Kill him! Offer him as a sacrifice to our Khan!"

"Ghost-faced General! You will die here today!"

Han Ye narrowed his eyes and coldly uttered two words:

"Then... let's see who dies."

Gongsun Zan's eyes were bloodshot, his teeth clenched, and his voice was hoarse, as if it were being ground out of his throat: "General... it's not that we want to abandon you, it's just that we really can't go on! There are too many people, everyone is exhausted, and we can't run anymore..."

"The Khan's cavalry are right behind us, their swords are at your throats... We can only beg you to live!"

Upon hearing this, Han Ye's heart trembled violently, and a bitter smile appeared on his lips.

Like.

so similar.

Xiahou Dun did the same thing back then, leading three thousand elite cavalrymen into a deadly situation, just to carve out a bloody path for him.

He survived that battle, but his three thousand elite troops were all buried in the yellow sand.

Is history about to repeat itself?

No.

no way.

His loyal followers on white horses can no longer die for him!

"There are too many people... so..."

Han Ye chuckled softly, slowly stood up, his voice as light as the wind, yet carrying an undeniable resolve, "I'll take care of what happens next all by myself."

Gongsun Zan's heart sank suddenly, and a chill ran down his spine to his head.

"Whoa—!"

A sharp whistle pierced the night sky.

In an instant, Red Hare came rushing in like a blazing fire, its hooves pounding the flames and its neighing deafeningly. It charged straight to Han Ye's side and affectionately nuzzled his shoulder armor, as if begging him to stay.

"Splash—"

Han Ye leaped onto his horse, his scarlet robe fluttering in the wind, resembling a burning flame under the waning moon.

He reined in his horse and looked back. Behind him, the remaining thousand or so white-horse guards were all wounded and their armor was tattered, yet they still stood with their spears raised and their eyes blazing.

He knew that many more brothers had already fallen forever on the way.

A dull pain shot through his chest, but his eyes hardened, and he forcefully suppressed the grief, uttering a single word in a cold voice: "Stop!"

boom--!

The world seemed to fall silent for a moment.

Gongsun Zan's pupils constricted sharply, and he roared in a hoarse voice, "General, no—!"

But before he could finish speaking, the scene before him suddenly changed.

Those more than a thousand iron-willed soldiers vanished like smoke, evaporated into thin air! Only dust remained, and the wind whipped up tattered flags.

The Turkic cavalry were stunned.

Where are they?!

"What the hell! Where did those masked demons go?"

"Gone...all gone..."

"Look! What's that—! The Ghost-Faced General! He's still here!!"

"Kill him! Kill him! Avenge the Khan!!"

In an instant, the eyes of the prairie wolves all locked onto Han Ye, roaring like a tidal wave, iron hooves rolling, and a volley of arrows being fired. The dark torrent of cavalry swept towards him alone!