Deng Jiuru, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, quickly saw Yan Army soldiers continually being pushed into the water behind him. They were all clad in armor; even if there happened to be strong swimmers among them, they would inevitably drown, weighed down by their mail.
Deng Jiuru stood with his mouth agape. His lips, which he had bitten himself, showed several bloody cuts, and his gaze started to become somewhat blank.
The wild people continued their onslaught, growing more and more savage. The collapse of the Yan Army's ranks was accelerating.
Gradually, soldiers started turning and running towards the river. Some had already begun removing their armor in hopes of swimming across. The army's morale instantly dissipated.
