His gaze swept across the dark mass of soldiers below the stage, passing over every face that showed fear, numbness, or determination.
"Soldiers!" His voice cracked from the roar, yet it was fueled by his inner strength, resounding throughout the army. "Today is our last battle!"
The audience was deathly silent, with only the banners fluttering in the wind.
“I know you’re scared. Scared of those fire-breathing iron pipes, scared of those swordsmen who can cut people like vegetables, scared of that white-clad killing god standing on the south bank.”
Ma Zongliang's voice suddenly rose, "But do you know what the consequences of retreating are?!"
He pointed north: "If we lose and the enemy breaks through our defenses, then the capital will be right behind us."
Ma Zongliang drew his sword, pointing it to the sky: "Today, we have no way out! It's either victory or death! Either we fight our way out or we perish on the banks of the Yi River!"
"But—" he changed the subject, "no matter how powerful Zhao Muyun's artillery is, its ammunition will eventually run out! No matter how brave the Mo Dao soldiers are, their manpower will eventually be exhausted! Our 150,000-strong army, even if we have to exchange ten lives for one of his, can wipe them out!"
"Pass on my order: All troops, advance! Regardless of front, middle, or rear, regardless of infantry, cavalry, archers, or crossbowmen! 150,000 men, all cross the river! Today, we have no need for formations, no need for tactics, we only want one thing—Zhao Muyun's head!"
"Whoever kills Zhao Muyun will be enfeoffed as a Marquis of Ten Thousand Households and rewarded with 100,000 taels of gold! Whoever kills Wu Shangzhi will be enfeoffed as a Marquis of One Thousand Households and rewarded with 50,000 taels of gold! Whoever kills a general of the Yin Army will also be richly rewarded!"
"If I die in battle, Li Biao will take command! If Li Biao dies, Li Bao will take command! If the captain dies, the lieutenant will take command! If the lieutenant dies, the centurion will take command! Until the last man, the last soldier!"
Ma Zong pointed his sword downwards, slicing his palm, and blood dripped onto the high platform:
"I, Ma Zongliang, hereby swear: If we do not defeat the Yin army today, I will perish in this river! The entire army—cross the river!"
"Cross the river! Cross the river! Cross the river!"
150,000 people roared in unison, their voices shaking the heavens and the earth.
Fear was replaced by madness born of despair, and despair transformed into a ruthless willingness to perish together.
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