Even an iron man cannot guarantee that he will escape unscathed when fighting against a hundred men, let alone a mortal with flesh and blood.
Song Yanqing's right arm was slashed by the enemy leader, who had also become a victim of his blade.
When the wound medicine was applied, a burning pain was felt.
The veins on his neck were bulging, and sweat trickled down his forehead and cheeks, eventually winding into his collar along with the veins on his neck.
Using both his mouth and hands, he quickly bandaged his wound.
As night approached, all their provisions had been exhausted.
The Shadow Guards swallowed all the cakes. If they couldn't return to camp tonight, they would at least die with their fill, leaving no regrets about not finishing their food and dying.
What they didn't expect was that the good things didn't come true, but the bad things did; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe it as a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Having suffered a loss in the forest, the Tatars dared not enter again to search, and Song Yanqing and his men successfully made it to night.
The dead of night is when murder and arson are most likely to occur.
Using the last of his Thunderclap Bombs, Song Yanqing led the Shadow Guards in a breakout.
As they fled to the foot of the Yanlian Mountains, they saw that the Tatars were about to catch up.
The four Shadow Guards acted decisively, turning their horses around and charging at the Tatars with their swords, using their own bodies to buy Song Yanqing time to escape.
One of the Shadow Guards, raising his sword and charging towards the Tatars, shouted, "We swear to protect the Great Jin with our lives! Master, run! Don't look back!"
Hearing the agonizing fighting behind him, Song Yanqing lashed out with his whip, secretly determined to avenge the Shadow Guards who had followed him here!
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