I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

As the white light faded, Luo Fei's vision transformed into a hazy sky, scorched earth, and a thick, pungent smell of blood.

The smell of gunpowder and scorched earth mingled in the air.

He was standing in the center of a position.

The trenches were waist-high, with sandbags piled up along the edges. The sandbags were riddled with bullet holes, some were broken, and sand was leaking out from the holes, covering the bottom of the trench with a layer of light yellow fine sand.

Many people lay in the trenches, wearing light blue military uniforms, most of their shirts unbuttoned, revealing the deep red, congealed wounds on their chests.

Some were lying on their backs, eyes still open, pupils dilated, gazing at the gray sky, as if waiting for something that would never come.

Some were curled up on their sides, their arms still gripping guns, their fingers stiffly curled, but their weapons were nowhere to be seen, whether blown away or picked up by someone else.

Others lay prone at the edge of the trench, half their bodies protruding from the sandbags, their heads drooping limply, as if, in their last moments, they were still using all their strength to shoot forward.

Luo Fei lowered his head and looked at a young soldier at his feet.

His face still had a youthful innocence, making him look at most eighteen or nineteen years old.

He lay on the ground, one hand clutching his abdomen, the other outstretched as if trying to grab something.

His abdomen was ripped open by shrapnel, leaving a long gash. The edges of the wound were blackened, and it had stopped bleeding.

His lips were bluish-purple, his eyes were half-open and unfocused, and there was a small pocket on the left breast of his uniform, the opening of which was slightly bulging, as if it contained something.

Luo Fei squatted down and gently opened the cloth flap of the pocket.

Inside was a black and white photograph, its edges curled and stained with congealed blood, but the girl's face in the photograph was still clearly visible: short hair to her ears, a round face, two slightly crooked front teeth when she smiled, and clear eyes.

On the back, a line of words was written in pen, the handwriting neat but slightly crooked, as if the hand was shaking when it was written: "Wait for me to come back."

Luo Fei gently put the photo back in his pocket, covered it with the cloth, and straightened up.

His gaze shifted from the young soldier's face and swept across the entire position.

Dozens of soldiers in light blue uniforms lay in the trench, their guns scattered around them, some with bayonets still attached to the barrels, the bayonets covered in mud and rust.

Looking further afield, on the open ground at the front of the position, there were even more corpses.

Most of them maintained a charging posture, some fell halfway down, and some stretched out their arms as if they were still striving forward.

The pale blue military uniforms, the scorched earth, the scattered shell casings, and the broken guns created a scene of horrific carnage that was almost suffocating.

Luo Fei roughly counted in his mind that there were several hundred fallen Chinese soldiers on this small battlefield.

Many footsteps could be heard coming from the front of the position.

The boots made a heavy, jumbled sound as they stepped on the gravel and scorched earth.

Luo Fei suddenly raised his head, his gaze sharp.

Hundreds of Japanese soldiers dressed in khaki uniforms surged up the slope in front of the position.

They roughly kicked aside the corpses on the ground, walked over to the soldiers in gray-blue uniforms, stopped, raised their guns, and pointed the dark muzzles downwards at the already lifeless bodies.

Then, they started finishing off the remaining enemies.

The muffled gunshots rang out intermittently, sounding particularly jarring in the already silent battlefield.

Some people found shooting troublesome, so they simply picked up their bayonets, bent down, stabbed down hard, and pulled them out forcefully, instantly staining the blade with fresh blood. Then they laughed and continued walking forward.

Even worse, some impatiently kicked the corpse on the ground, and when it didn't react, they kicked it again hard to make sure it was completely lifeless before cursing and continuing on their way.

A man in an officer's uniform walked at the head of the column. His boots crunched between the gray-blue uniformed bodies on the ground, and his face remained expressionless.

His gaze swept from the front line of the position to the interior, across the sandbags, the trenches, and the people lying motionless on the ground.

Then his gaze stopped; he saw Luo Fei.

Luo Fei stood there, wearing a blue-white gradient robe, the hem of which reached his feet, with tiny starlight flowing on the fabric, which was particularly dazzling under the hazy sky.

He had no weapons, no guns, no knives, nothing at all.

The officer's pupils suddenly contracted, and he abruptly stopped in his tracks.

The soldiers behind him also stopped in their tracks, and hundreds of eyes focused on Luo Fei at the same time.

With a wave of his hand, the officer quickly moved forward, surrounded Luo Fei, raised his guns, and aimed them at him.

When the officer saw that Luo Fei was unarmed, he relaxed, stepped forward, and began to persuade Luo Fei to surrender, speaking in Japanese: "You, surrender, take off your clothes."

Luo Fei understood. His lips curled up slightly, revealing a cold smile. He extended his index fingers and slowly raised them from his sides.

He lowered his left hand as soon as he reached mid-air.

With a thought, the meteorite iron sword was already in his right palm. The dark gray blade was very long, longer than the rifles of the Japanese soldiers.

Luo Fei channeled his inner energy into the blade, and a layer of dark red flames instantly ignited on the surface of the blade.

The Japanese soldiers' fingers were already on the trigger. When they saw the long knife that suddenly appeared in Luo Fei's hand, their pupils shrank. They didn't have time to think and were about to pull the trigger.

Luo Fei vanished from their sight.

All that could be seen was a dark red light moving through the crowd, like a stretched bolt of lightning, drawing broken arcs among the hundreds of figures in khaki military uniforms.

Almost instantly, Luo Fei reappeared in their sight, but they were no longer able to fire.

One after another, the khaki military uniforms fell to the ground, covering the entire position.

Hundreds of figures, in less than a breath, were all gone, not one of them still standing intact.

Luo Fei stood in the initial position. The dark red light on the meteorite iron blade gradually faded, and the blade returned to its dark gray color. Not a single drop of blood stained the blade.

He didn't look at the bodies that were falling.

His gaze fell on the light blue military uniforms on the ground.

It landed on those eyes that would never open again.

It landed on the young soldier's breast pocket, where the photo was kept.

He whispered, "May you have a safe journey."