The fierce battle of the Left Army had reached a fever pitch. Fighting was akin to a tug-of-war: one misstep led to repeated setbacks. Each minor disadvantage slowly accumulated until it morphed into an insurmountable mountain, leaving them powerless to reverse the desperate situation.
Deng Jiuru was still waving the command flag. The battle had progressed to a point where there was little left to command. The entire encampment was a chaotic melee, making it impossible to issue effective orders.
Once the troops' formations were broken, the general's orders could no longer be delivered. At this moment, all they could rely on was raw courage, hoping to drive the wild people out of the encampment!
All the old general could do was wave that flag, ensuring his soldiers could see it, to maintain their confidence and conviction to fight on.
