The moment the knife slashed in, the sharp blade cut through the bone with a chilling sound—a sound that flashed by in an instant, a judgment before death.
An arrow came from the front, hitting a Shenwu Army cavalryman right in the eye and knocking him off his horse. The warhorse neighed and kicked up its front hooves, sending two Jiaozhi soldiers flying.
The cavalryman rolled several times on the ground, got up, and without even looking, swung his sword, severing three heads in a single sweep, the heads flying into the air.
The arrow was broken, but the arrowhead was stuck in his eye.
The excruciating pain made his whole body tremble. He felt his life rapidly disappearing from his body, and he couldn't help but scream in agony.
Another cavalryman reached out and pulled him up, quickly binding him to himself with his cloak.
The cavalryman roared in a rough voice, "Zhongxing! Hold on! Brother will get you out of here!"
The wounded cavalryman cried out in agony, "I can't go on, let me down!"
"We'll die together!"
They came from the same village, grew up together, and shared the simplest kind of friendship between men.
He joined the new army during the emperor's northern expedition, fought alongside Yue Fei, and grew in strength. In just one year, he transformed into an elite cavalryman of the Divine Martial Army.
The wounded cavalryman's life was rapidly slipping away, his voice growing weaker and weaker: "Quick...quickly let me...down, you go back alive...remember to take care of my old mother..."
The cavalryman was filled with rage and grief, but he forced himself to remain calm.
Their military training emphasizes remaining calm and composed even when facing a collapsing mountain!
He tied his friend to himself and did not let go.
He roared and charged forward with the main force ahead, his saber slashing incessantly.
The entire Divine Warrior Cavalry was unstoppable!
The Shenwu Army suddenly charged in, catching the Jiaozhi Army completely off guard. Their initial resistance was torn apart, and chaos erupted in the camp.
Desperate cries could be heard everywhere.
"Run! The Song army of 100,000 is charging!"
"Run! The commander has already fled!"
"Someone save me! I don't want to die! My leg is broken! I need to go home! My sister is waiting for me there..."
"I surrender, I surrender! I've never been to the Song Dynasty, I've never even seen a Song person. I was forced into the army..."
“I’m just a farmer in the fields. I have a child. My child was just born and needs a father…”
"..."
Everywhere, one could hear the mournful cries of the Jiaozhi soldiers.
But war is the most ruthless thing; it destroys everything, and it will not stop because of anyone's pitiful origins.
Just like that fallen cavalryman of the Divine Martial Army, he died on the battlefield. If his friends also died on the battlefield, their names would be enshrined in the Shrine of Martyrs, and their elderly mothers would be filled with grief, as white-haired people would send off their black-haired children.
They risked their lives to protect the peace of the country, but how many people in the future will remember their names?
When people sit in restaurants drinking, do they ever think that the peaceful life they enjoy is bought with the blood and lives of some people?
P.S.: As I wrote this chapter, my heart was heavy. Our lives today were bought with the blood and lives of countless martyrs, and we should not forget the past.
Indeed, many of the war scenes I wrote are actually a tribute to the martyrs. Including Zhao Huan's Northern Expedition when he first traveled back in time, it may have been the emperor who piled on the numbers, but when facing an enemy stronger than us, we had to survive, we had to protect our homeland, and China has never lacked heroes who sacrificed themselves for their country.
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