"Rebels... Rebels... They're all damn rebels! Aaaaaah!!!"
On the border between Horse State and Mammoth State, crooked trenches outlined a chaotic battlefield.
Thunder rolled through the pouring rain, extinguishing the slowly burning smoke on the dry grass, muffling the wails of the injured soldiers in the trenches.
Standing outside the military tent on the frontline, General Arai Yang looked up at the sky, pounding his chest with his right fist.
The muffled sound did not reveal whether it was crying or laughing, yet it was strangely similar to that of the captain of the Forbidden Army guarding the gates of the Imperial Palace.
It's hateful...
It's despicable!
Unwillingness filled Arai Yang's heart.
He had the skills for war and should have had a grand stage on the battlefield, yet he never expected to fall into such a predicament.
Mid-March.
Nearly two months had passed since the fall of Tiandu.
