"The purpose of this mission is not to forcefully breach the city, but to take it by surprise, blow open the city gates, and create an opening for Yang Yan."
"Blow open the city gate?" The generals were all stunned.
A cold glint flashed in Zhao Muyun's eyes: "In the battle of Falling Eagle Gorge, although the Divine Machine Battalion used a lot of Heaven-Shaking Thunder, there were still 500 left, which were originally prepared for the defense of Falling Eagle Gorge."
"Bring them all on this surprise attack. The North Gate may be fortified, but with the concentrated detonation of the Heaven-Shaking Thunder, what gate can't be breached?"
Wu Shangzhi gasped: "The Grand Commander intends to use all the Heaven-Shaking Thunderbolts in one explosion? What if..."
“There’s no room for ‘what ifs’,” Zhao Muyun said decisively. “It’s either a decisive victory or total annihilation. There’s no turning back in this battle.”
A brief silence fell inside the tent.
This plan is too bold and too risky, but upon closer examination, it seems to be the only possible way to break the deadlock in this desperate situation.
"This humble general is willing to accompany the Grand Commander!" Guo Luo was the first to clasp his hands in a fist salute.
"I will go too!" Tang Yanhai, Liu Yi and others expressed their opinions one after another.
Zhao Muyun nodded with satisfaction, then his expression turned serious: "In that case, let's set off in a quarter of an hour!"
......
At midnight, the Eagle Falling Gorge was sparsely lit, with only patrol teams carrying torches moving between the camps, just like any other day.
But on the south side of the camp, at the exit shrouded in the shadow of the cliffs, four thousand elite troops had already quietly assembled.
Unlike usual, this march included twenty specially made sleds, each loaded with thunderbolts tightly wrapped in tarpaulins.
Each sled was pulled by two packhorses and operated by the most experienced engineers of the Shenji Battalion.
Warhorses were gagged and their hooves were wrapped in cloth. The soldiers covered their armor with dark cloaks and wrapped all the metal parts that might reflect light with strips of cloth.
There was no pre-battle mobilization, no grand pronouncements, only suppressed breathing and pairs of eyes that shone brightly in the darkness.
Zhao Muyun, dressed in light black armor and wearing a dark gray cloak, rode his warhorse and took one last look in the direction of the Luoyingjian camp.
Zhong Meng and the others stood in the shadows, bowing silently with their fists clasped.
Zhao Muyun nodded, then turned his horse around and waved his hand gently.
The army, like a long dragon in the dark night, silently slid out of the mountain stream and disappeared into the vast snowfield.
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