Chapter 917: First Volume_Chapter 917 Near Death

First Volume_Chapter 917 Near Death

In the field, even if one wishes to surrender, it cannot be done casually; both sides must communicate in advance and make full preparations before surrender and acceptance can proceed.

The enemy cavalry surrendered suddenly, leaving the Beixi Cavalry utterly unprepared; for safety's sake, they were all slaughtered outright—no one could find fault even if word spread.

Meanwhile, the battle at Wanggang Village was nearing its end; after all Beixi Soldiers had fallen, Tianji Camp Guards and Anwu Guard began to suffer casualties, but the rate of death was slow.

Any battle is often most brutal in its early and middle phases; as it progresses, it gradually turns into a "Consumption War," with both sides hoping the other collapses first, engaging in numb, passive combat with greatly reduced intensity.

If not for the Tianji Camp Guards being flesh and blood with limited stamina, with so few men, it might truly have been possible to wipe out the entire enemy force…

Once the first village path fell, Qin Feng decisively ordered the comrades guarding the other paths to retreat to the village center, using the Ancestral Hall as a stronghold for final resistance.

Qin Feng had initially estimated that the village entrance would fall fastest, as the Enemy Army's morale and strength were at their peak at the outset—the most brutal phase—and once the entrance fell, retreating to the village paths for street fighting would reduce combat intensity; yet this street fight was crucial for Qin Feng.

As Qin Feng predicted, the street fighting lasted the longest and caused the fewest casualties.

But when the village paths were fully occupied by the enemy, Qin Feng had no choice but to gather all remaining forces and retreat to the Ancestral Hall—this battle then entered its final stage.

Because according to Qin Feng's estimation, enemies surging from all directions would trap the Tianji Camp Guards and Anwu Guard in a desperate fight with attacks from front and rear; as the saying goes, two fists cannot fight four hands—even if the Tianji Camp Guards and Anwu Guard were Elite Troops, they would be cut down in moments under a mob's assault.

Moreover, the Ancestral Hall was not a qualified stronghold—or even a proper Fortified Position.

Yet…

Ideal and reality often diverge: though Qin Feng had been cornered and a single charge could kill him, the Enemy Army's combat will had become extremely lax!

Most soldiers merely shouted and probed from nearby; very few actually advanced to attack.

After a moment of confusion, Qin Feng immediately realized the reason: the Reinforcements must have arrived, and these soldiers realized this battle was merely Lü Li's desperate gamble, meaningless to them; even if they killed Qin Feng, they would be slaughtered by the arriving Reinforcements.

Moreover, as the battle dragged on, Qin Feng's Troops' Combat Effectiveness had repeatedly shattered the Tuntian Soldiers' perceptions—each time they killed a Tianji Camp Guard or Anwu Guard, they paid a heavy price; no one wanted to charge forward and become a stepping stone for another's glory.

Under all these blows, the Tuntian Soldiers' Combat Effectiveness could only be described as "better than nothing."

It's no wonder that, in this age, military campaigns demand "a just cause."

Only when a war feels meaningful do soldiers willingly shed blood and sacrifice their lives; an unjust war collapses quickly.

Though Li Xiaolan was unskilled in military affairs, from the weary, apathetic eyes of the surrounding enemy soldiers, she could sense that not just her side, but the enemy too had become a spent force.

Li Xiaolan, who had already prepared to take her own life, still gripped her blade tightly, yet her stern, heavy gaze softened slightly.

"Feng'er, how much longer can we hold out?"

Qin Feng sat by the door, his body nearly broken, gasping heavily; his long spear had been cut in two, his sword lost, leaving only a Small Golden Mace he'd picked up from the ground.

Qin Feng's left shoulder and right thigh bore various cuts, but fortunately protected by his Armor, the wounds were shallow.

After several breaths, he weakly replied: "It seems the Reinforcements have arrived, but many enemies still cling to fantasies of glory—how long we hold depends on when they finally charge."

Qin Feng's meaning was clear: under these conditions, they could not withstand even one more assault.

Whether from depletion of Weapons and Armor or sheer exhaustion, Qin Feng and his comrades had reached their limit.

Since they no longer had the strength to raise their blades, they were essentially no different from the Tuntian Soldiers across from them.

Yet Qin Feng laughed—though the laugh was grim, his eyes revealed a touch of quiet joy: "At least, we're together, aren't we?"

Hearing this, Li Xiaolan froze for a moment, then smiled in understanding: "Yes."

She stepped to Qin Feng's side, sat cross-legged, and leaned gently against his shoulder, preparing to savor the last trace of happiness before death arrived.

"Xiaolan, do you regret it?"

At Qin Feng's question, Li Xiaolan shrugged: "What do you mean?"

"Regret coming to Wang Du with me? Regret being with me? Don't regret it!"

Qin Feng shook his head with a smile: "Heh, I meant—do you regret waiting so long to be with me? If we'd revealed our true feelings sooner, we could've shared more of the happiness only we could know."

Li Xiaolan said nothing, but inwardly she did regret it; yet now, sharing life and death with Qin Feng, she was content.

As for regrets? She racked her brain but could not think of a single one—after all, marriage and becoming a mother were merely side effects of being with Qin Feng.

Qin Feng dropped the Small Golden Mace, took the short blade from Li Xiaolan's hand, and said nothing more, wishing only to hold her hand and cling to her in the final moments of life.

At that moment, the Enemy Army launched another assault.

And because so many soldiers were weary of fighting, those who now charged were the ones desperate for glory—more fierce, more pure in their attack.

Over a hundred enemy soldiers, wielding swords and axes, surged toward the Ancestral Hall from all sides, shouting excitedly.

"Qin Feng is exhausted! Kill him!"

"Cut off Qin Feng's head! Earn glory! Be remembered through history!"

"What of the Tianji Camp Guards? What of the Anwu Guard? They all die here!"

Zhang Zhenhai and Liu Ming, already covered in wounds, exchanged a glance, pushed themselves up using their Weapons, legs trembling violently, yet still led their remaining forty-odd comrades forward without hesitation.

"Kill!"

"For Marquis Qin! For Beixi County! Death is honor!"