The battlefield before Zheng County erupted into chaos as steel met flesh and resolve met destiny.
The Xiliang soldiers surged upward like a living tide.
Arrows still fell.
Blood still sprayed.
And yet—they did not stop.
On the battlements, Xu Rong stood like a lone pillar against the storm.
His shield rang under the impact of spears and blades, his saber flashing as he carved a narrow space for survival. Around him, his men threw themselves forward—not to live…
…but to hold ground.
One soldier, pierced through by multiple spears, staggered but did not fall immediately.
He looked at Xu Rong, blood spilling from his lips, yet he smiled.
"General… have we ever feared death…?"
Before the words fully faded—
his body collapsed.
Xu Rong's eyes reddened.
"Kill!!"
His roar shook the wall.
The Xiliang soldiers behind him leapt down one after another, using their own bodies to widen the foothold. Corpses piled. Steel clashed. The narrow strip atop the wall became a slaughter ground.
Elsewhere, Yue Jin climbed like a raging beast, ignoring the danger, cutting down defenders the moment he reached the top.
Zhu Ling followed close behind—precise, relentless—his strikes clean and efficient.
The three forces converged.
Three blades stabbing into the heart of the wall.
"Hold them back!"
The Zheng County defending general shouted desperately, trying to reorganize his men.
But the timing—
was already lost.
Moments ago, they had been forced into cover by the relentless stone bombardment.
Moments ago, they had risen in confusion.
And now—
the enemy was already on the wall.
Below, more ladders slammed into place.
More soldiers climbed.
The Xiliang troops, once captives… now fought like men reborn.
For six months, they had eaten Zhang Xin's grain.
For six months, they had lived when they should have died.
Now—
they repaid it with their lives.
From the rear, Zhang Xin watched, his expression firm but his eyes burning.
"This is it…"
No retreat.
No second chance.
"Advance the reserves!" he ordered.
Behind him, fresh troops surged forward.
The tide grew stronger.
On the wall, Xu Rong finally carved out a stable foothold.
He stepped over fallen bodies—friend and foe alike—and raised his blade high.
"Forward!"
His voice carried across the chaos.
And like a spark catching dry grass—
the momentum shifted.
The defenders began to falter.
Step by step—
inch by inch—
they were pushed back.
The gates of Zheng County trembled under the distant pounding of rams.
The walls, once unbreakable—
were now breached.
And as the sun climbed higher into the sky…
the outcome of the battle began to tilt.
Not by strategy alone.
Not by weapons alone.
But by something far more brutal—
the will to die… and the will to win.