On the mountain summit.
The old general, clad in a tattered military robe, glared furiously.
With a thrust of the long spear in his hand, numerous government soldiers retreated step by step.
The mountain wind howled.
In the wind, there was the scent of blood everywhere.
The red-robed government soldiers all looked up at the old general on the mountaintop.
"Li Tianwang, give up resisting."
"Your Wuer Mountain thieves are almost completely wiped out, yet you still resist?"
A government army leader glared angrily.
Yet none of his subordinate soldiers dared to step forward.
Because beneath the feet of that white-haired old general lay a mountain of corpses.
"Li Tianwang, you were originally a subordinate of Marquis Zhenyuan, who was devoted to the nation. Are you going to tarnish his posthumous reputation?"
The old general on the mountain said nothing, merely stared fixedly at the government soldiers like a puppet that never knew exhaustion.
