At last!
Under the influence of Zhang Ping.
Many Han Soldiers who refused to surrender remained, guarding Zhang Ping's sides.
Of the tens of thousands of Han Army remaining, barely five hundred stayed behind.
"When a nation is on the brink of ruin, not all are loyal and righteous."
Zhang Ping glanced around, sighing inwardly.
Yet, as he looked at the Han Soldiers around him, a sense of solace stirred in his heart.
At least.
There are still these hundreds of loyal and righteous souls.
Time passed by, little by little.
When dawn broke, the sun had already quietly risen.
This Han Capital had endured a day and night of fierce battle; corpses littered both inside and outside the city, a bloody reek shrouding the whole capital.
Meanwhile.
In the Inner City where Zhang Ping stood.
There appeared before him thousands of Qin Army; each soldier's body drenched in blood—one could imagine the countless Han Army fallen at their hands.
Looking upon the Han Army's defensive lines.
