Shuo Yu wanted to grab something with one hand. He saw Zhang Lixian fall down two or three meters away from Yu Xiaoqing. He saw the guys around Yu Datiexue fall down one after another. Flashes of fire penetrated his body and hit the elite soldiers of Yu's army and the cannon fodder of the Sichuan Army. There was no difference between the elite and the cannon fodder. They would die equally.
He saw Yu Xiaoqing kneeling on the South Heaven Gate, and his helmet was no longer clean.
Yu Xiaoqing's eyes were red, and even speaking was a little difficult. He was at a loss for words, like a piece of white porcelain about to fall off the edge of the table and shatter into pieces.
He asked, where did you learn how to fight this kind of battle?
Si La Si La pointed at Fan La next to him and said that he learned it from him.
"They don't want to die. They look at the place where they will be sent to fight sooner or later, and they think about how they will die. I learned from them. No one wants to die, Commander."
Yu Xiaoqing's eyes were hazy, moving back and forth between death and annoyance. He lost, completely.
Behind him, there were more than ten or twenty pairs of eyes watching with him, looking at the sand table, or their leader. Shuo Yu stretched out his hand to hold their leader's staggering body from behind, waiting for the final result.
How different is the real Battle of Nantianmen from this sand table simulation?
In reality, Master Yu might die a more miserable death, and this is the only thing Shuo Yu can guarantee.
Yu Xiaoqing slowly put on the white gloves he had taken off at the beginning of the war. His face looked innocent, as if he didn't know why things happened this way. Shuo Yu just knew that he had woken up from his dream.
"Disband, everyone, disband."
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