During this period, he had already lost count of how many knives he had worn out.
Baili Feng pressed several mechanisms on his armor, and the battle-scarred heavy armor disassembled with a clatter, crashing into the blood-soaked mud. Feeling his blood boiling uncomfortably, he reached inside and tore off the undergarments beneath the armor, revealing his muscular torso.
Supporting himself on his knee, he slowly sat down on the corpse-ridden battlefield, leaning against a fallen warhorse, watching the distant sunset. The Qin Army was here searching for the wounded, saving those who still drew breath, and tearfully granting fallen comrades a swift end with an additional blade.
The battlefield.
