A great fire, ruthlessly raging.
In the cold blizzard, many Mingbei Barbarians had sought warmth inside their tents, but the thick clothing on their bodies now became the best kindling.
Heart-wrenching screams pierced the sky.
"General, run!"
As merciless as fire and water, the sight of soldiers already in complete disarray surrounded General William as he left the main tent with his aides, his heart sunk with despair.
"Run, where to? I hate this!"
The defeat was conclusive!
At such a time, the crucial Snow Wolf Riders were lured away, unable to provide an effective protective circle for those engulfed in flames. General William didn't need to look to know that the Northern Border Warriors were mercilessly reaping every life outside.
Thousands of mistakes, but whose fault was it?
If only he had 300,000 Mingbei warriors, he, William, would have long led an attack south of the Gesang River.
Alas, in the end, he alone had to bear all the blame.
"Charlie, you go surrender."