Nine dragons fight for the throne, I don't want to sit on this throne

He deliberately slowed down his speech so that every word would strike hard on the hearts of Li Shimin and all the Tang soldiers.

He raised his arm and slowly pointed with his riding crop at the silent, mountain-like army behind him, and the twilight-shrouded plains in the distance:

"Guo Ziyi? Hahaha!"

Han Xing's laughter was dry and cold: "Does Your Majesty still expect that famous general who revived the dynasty to come to your rescue? Wishful thinking!"

He paused, observing Li Shimin's suddenly tense face and the instant pallor of the Tang soldiers around him, before continuing in a clear tone:

"Guo Ziyi, and his eight thousand elite troops who swore to be loyal to you to the death, were annihilated here by me an hour ago!"

"Eight thousand lives, not one left! Guo Ziyi himself fought to the very end, suffering dozens of wounds, and was finally beheaded!"

"He was a tough guy, even in his dying moments he wanted to take the men of Great Chu down with him, but alas..."

Han Xing shook his head, his tone full of mockery: "His plan to sacrifice himself as bait, though seemingly tragic, was actually foolish! In the end, it couldn't change the fate of your tyrannical rule and your downfall!"

"Not only did they fail to hold back the main force of my army, they also needlessly lost their own lives and eight thousand fine young men!"

"Your Majesty the Emperor of the Great Tang Dynasty, your method of employing generals is truly brilliant!"

"you--!"

Several generals around Li Shimin were furious and almost rushed out to fight, but the emperor raised his hand and stopped them.

With each word Han Xing uttered, Li Shiming's face grew increasingly gloomy, eventually becoming as heavy as the leaden clouds gathering in the sky.

Guo Ziyi died in battle, and eight thousand loyal souls were buried in a foreign land.

Although the news was somewhat expected, when it was confirmed so cruelly and bluntly by the enemy, the piercing pain and overwhelming rage almost burst through his chest.

His clenched fists were white at the knuckles, and his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood, but he was completely unaware of it.

He stopped looking at Han Xing's repulsive face and turned his gaze forward.

It was as if one could pierce through the twilight and see the tragic battlefield an hour earlier, and see Guo Ziyi's upright and unyielding figure as he finally fell.

A complex mix of endless grief, self-blame, anger, and resolve churned in his eyes, eventually turning into a deep, icy pool.

He slowly turned his head and faced Han Xing again. The imperial majesty in his eyes made even the battle-hardened Han Xing feel a chill.

"Completely wiped out! What a complete annihilation!"

Li Shiming's voice was terrifyingly low, yet carried a strange calmness:

"General Guo and his eight thousand soldiers sacrificed their lives for the country. Their deaths were worthwhile, and their heroic spirits will never be forgotten. Their blood will not have been shed in vain."

He took a sudden step forward, his body swaying slightly from his injuries, but his do-or-die, do-or-die, and arrogant aura suddenly surged:

"Han Xing! Do you think that with your few troops and the natural defenses of these rivers, you can determine my life or death? Do you think you can bring down my Tang Dynasty? How laughable!"

A blush of excitement spread across Li Shimin's pale face as he surveyed the soldiers who, though terrified, still gathered around him.

The voice was raised, not only to address Han Xing, but also to all the Tang soldiers:

"Since I raised an army in Jinyang, swept away all the warlords, and established my rule over the world, I have fought hundreds of battles, large and small. What kind of desperate situation haven't I seen? What kind of powerful enemy haven't I encountered?"

"You want my life, you want to destroy my country? You, Han Xing, are not qualified!"

"I am the chosen one by Heaven. Even if I am in a difficult situation for the time being, I am not someone that you traitors can easily humiliate!"

His words were like adding kindling to a dying fire, rekindling a faint but tenacious light in the eyes of many Tang soldiers.

The emperor is still alive, and the Son of Heaven has not yielded!

However, just as Li Shiming finished speaking, in the instant he tried to rally his last morale and fight like a cornered beast—

“Report——!!!”

A shrill, terrified scream, accompanied by the rapid, drum-like clatter of approaching hooves, suddenly rang out from behind them as they fled!

A scout covered in blood, helmet missing, hair disheveled.

He practically tumbled off his horse, scrambling and running towards Li Shiming, collapsing to the ground. His voice, distorted by extreme fear and despair, screamed:

"Your Majesty! No...no good! Behind us...fifteen miles behind us! The Chu Emperor...the Chu Emperor himself has led tens of thousands of elite cavalry and has cut off all our retreat routes!"

"They are...they are closing in on our troops at full speed! We...we are completely surrounded!"

"boom--!"

This final news, like the last straw that broke the camel's back, or a chilling current, instantly swept through the entire remnant Tang army.

Even Li Shiming's figure, which he had just forcibly roused and was full of resolute momentum, swayed almost imperceptibly, and his face completely lost the last trace of color.

In front of them were Han Xing's well-prepared troops ready to intercept them, and behind them was the main force of pursuit personally led by the Chu Emperor.

To the south lies the mighty Yangtze and Huai Rivers, and to the north lies a desperate place where a crushing defeat has just occurred and there is no turning back.

The 20,000 exhausted and wounded troops were trapped in an ambush, with no way to escape.

Han Xing took in the terror of the scouts behind him and the utter despair that instantly filled the Tang army.

He no longer concealed his victor's triumph, slowly drawing the sword from his waist. The gleaming blade pointed diagonally at the sky, reflecting the blood-red light of the last rays of the setting sun.

He no longer looked at Li Shiming, who seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, but instead turned his gaze to his fierce and powerful soldiers. Gathering his strength, he roared for a general offensive:

"His Majesty has decreed! Whoever annihilates the Tang army, captures or executes Li Shimin, will be granted the title of Marquis of Ten Thousand Households and a reward of ten thousand gold pieces!"

"Sons of Great Chu! Today is the day to make our mark! Follow me—"

"kill!!!"

The deafening shouts of battle, like thunderclaps from a clear sky, exploded and shattered the last tranquility of dusk on the south bank of the Yangtze River.

The black tide of Chu troops began to surge forward from the front towards the Tang army's remnants, which were deeply surrounded and already on their last legs.

Meanwhile, the increasingly clear and heavy thunder of hooves coming from behind foreshadowed another, even more deadly torrent of iron, which was rapidly closing in on this net of death.

Li Shiming stood still, the setting sun casting a long, lonely shadow of his upright figure.

He glanced one last time at the northern sky, where Chang'an, a place he could never return to, was the direction where Guo Ziyi and countless loyal souls perished.

Then, he slowly drew the Emperor's Sword from his waist, the sword that had been with him for half his life and had drunk the blood of countless enemy chieftains.

The sword's edge was icy cold, reflecting in his eyes, which were now devoid of any emotion.

"Commanders!"

He addressed the last remaining generals and guards beside him, their faces resolute, his voice heartbreakingly calm.

"Follow me... to the death."

The final battle erupted in the twilight, soaked in blood and fire.