Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

Encouraged by Murong Xuepo, the soldiers' morale, which had been slightly low due to days of hard fighting, was instantly ignited. They shouted in unison, their roars shaking the heavens, like a surging black torrent, sweeping towards Ordo City again.

Ladders were quickly erected on the city walls, and the soldiers scaled them recklessly, completely ignoring the rain of arrows and rocks that fell from the walls. Murong Xuepo stood behind the formation, eyes red and fists clenched, staring intently at the battlefield, roaring non-stop, "Faster! Faster! We must take this city before Ma Chao!"

Atop the city walls, Kebineng's defenders fought desperately amid the terrified cries of women and children. But facing Murong Xuepo's frenzied assault, their defenses began to crumble. Ulanda and Tarimu led the charge, brandishing their long swords, slashing at every enemy who attempted to scale the walls. However, the Xianbei army's casualties continued to mount.

By this time, Ordo City had become a raging battlefield. Shouts, screams, and the clash of weapons intertwined, and the air was thick with the scent of blood. Murong Xuepo was single-mindedly determined to capture Ordo City before Ma Chao could. He completely disregarded the casualties among his soldiers, relentlessly pressing the attack as if capturing the city would reward all his efforts. Ma Chao, watching from the sidelines, knew that Murong Xuepo's actions, while seemingly valiant, were actually playing into his hands. The game between the two sides was unfolding in the direction he had anticipated.

At this moment, Ulanda, who was resisting Murong Xuepo's attack in the east, had the scimitar in his hand bent. He shouted at the top of his lungs: "Reinforcements! Reinforcements!" The shout was full of despair and anxiety.

Ke Bineng had no choice but to continue forcing the women and children to go forward and climb to the top of the city wall to hold their ground.

Meanwhile, Tarim, who was holding off the Han army in the southwest, felt the pressure suddenly ease. Upon receiving news that the eastern front was about to be captured, and seeing the Han army returning to its previous state of seemingly attacking but actually reserving its strength, his heart tightened, and he hurriedly led his men to rush towards the eastern wall to provide support.

When Ulanda saw Tarim coming, he called out anxiously, "Tarim, what's going on? Aren't you going to defend the west?"

Tarim gasped as he spoke, "The Han army's siege has weakened considerably today. I see it's really hard for you to hold on, so I led my troops here."

Wulanda was about to tell him to return and defend the western front, but before he could utter a word, Murong Xuepo's fierce general, Wulihan, had already led his troops towards him like a ferocious demon. Wulanda wiped the blood from his face, gritted his teeth, and roared with determination in his eyes, "Forget it! Kill them! The city is about to fall. Kill one and we'll get back our losses. Kill two and we'll make a profit. Kill these bastards who have betrayed Changshengtian!"

After that, Ulanda brandished the curved blade of his scimitar and rushed towards Ulihan. Tarim was also not afraid. With a loud shout, he led his soldiers in a desperate fight with Ulihan's troops.

On the battlefield, shouts and screams mingled, blood stained the city walls red. Women and children wept in terror, but in this life-or-death situation, they could only pick up simple weapons and try to fight for a glimmer of hope for themselves and their people.

Seeing the stalemate on the city wall, Murong Xuepo was extremely anxious and kept urging: "Keep attacking! Increase the troops, we must take the city wall today!" Under his orders, more soldiers rushed to the city wall like a tide, and the shouting and killing made people's eardrums hurt.

The pressure on the city walls suddenly increased, and the Xianbei defenders gradually began to feel overwhelmed by the fierce attack. At this critical moment, Kebineng arrived in person. Although he was old, his posture still exuded an indomitable spirit, and he swung his scimitar with vigor.

Seeing their leader arrive in person, the citizens and warriors of Ordo City on the city walls seemed to be energized, their eyes ablaze with fighting spirit. They knew that as long as the city survived, the people would be there; if the city fell, they would perish. So, with the determination to die, they began a desperate resistance.

Every Xianbei soldier expended his last ounce of strength, using his body to resist the enemy's attack. The women and children, no longer fearful, picked up stones and sticks and threw them at the enemy troops below. For a moment, the city's defenses became resilient.

Murong Xuepo watched this scene, feeling both angry and anxious. He couldn't understand why Kebi Neng's men remained so stubborn, even after such a difficult situation. But he wasn't about to give up. He firmly believed that with just a little more effort, Ordo City would eventually be his.

At this moment, the sky was thick with dark clouds, as if mourning the brutal battle itself. Amidst thunder and lightning, raindrops as large as beans poured down, mixing the blood and mud on the battlefield, making the scene even more brutal and tragic. Despite this inclement weather, the battle continued, and no one knew the outcome. The future of the grasslands, in this precarious situation, grew increasingly uncertain.

The brutal battle raged until complete darkness. Despite Murong Xuepo's utmost efforts, they were unable to breach the city walls. The pounding, pea-sized raindrops pounded down, causing immense distress to both sides. The rain blurred the soldiers' vision, and the ground became muddy, making both marching and fighting extremely difficult.

Ma Chao decisively called off his troops after the rain began. Hearing the signal, the Western Liang army retreated in an orderly fashion, quickly disappearing into the drizzle. Murong Xuepo watched Ma Chao's troops retreat with such ease, his anger boiling, and he couldn't help but curse Ma Chao's shamelessness. He understood that Ma Chao must have taken advantage of the difficulty of attacking the city in such inclement weather and was deliberately conserving his strength.

However, Murong Xuepo's own side, as the siege force, found it difficult to continue the attack in the rain, and taking the city walls was hopeless. With no other choice, he reluctantly called off his troops.

As the blasts of the horns echoed through the rain, soldiers on both sides breathed a sigh of relief. Dragging their exhausted bodies, some collapsed on the ramparts, while others supported each other and slowly walked down. Blood, mixed with rainwater, flowed down the cracks in the wall, as if to testify to the brutality of the battle.

Ke Bineng stood on the city wall, gazing at the direction of Murong Xuepo's retreating army, his face filled with fatigue and solemnity. He knew this was only a temporary respite; tomorrow would surely bring a more intense attack. He wondered how much longer he and the city could hold out.

Seeing his father, Kebineng, staring into the distance for a long time, motionless, with rain running down his cheeks, he couldn't tell whether it was tears or rain. He walked over with a distressed look on his face and whispered, "Father, go back and rest. They've already retreated. I'll hold on here."

Kebineng slowly withdrew his gaze, and after a moment of silence, he turned to Tarim and said, "Tarim, you take some troops to hold on here first. I will lead Ulanda to boost morale." Tarimu responded and continued to focus on the city defense arrangements without objection.

Kebineng led Wulanda to the military tent in silence. Wulanda was a little confused and couldn't help asking, "Father, why didn't you say we were going to boost morale? Are we going back to the military tent?"

Ke Bineng's expression was gloomy. He sighed and said, "Kid, why are you still trying to boost morale? Look at the situation now. How long can we hold out? Tell me, how much have we lost in today's battle?"

Ulanda gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, "Right now, there are probably only four or five thousand warriors who can really take up swords and fight. I estimate that at least fifty to sixty thousand women and children have been killed today."

Ke Bineng closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks, and said sadly, "Yes, it has come to this. How much longer can we hold on?"

Wulanda suddenly gritted his teeth, gripped the scimitar at his waist tightly, and said with a determined glint in his eyes, "Father, let's fight! Even if it comes down to the last soldier, we can't let Murong Xuepo, the traitor, get away with it! Although we suffered heavy casualties today, Murong Xuepo has also lost at least 2 soldiers."

Kebineng looked at his resolute son with a mixture of joy and sorrow. He gently pulled Ulanda into the tent, wiped the raindrops from his face and damp hair, his eyes filled with love and reluctance. He said, "My son, take these last 1000 Golden Horde guards with you and head north tonight. Beyond the North Sea lies vast land. Find a way to survive."

After hearing his father's words, Ulanda's eyes instantly turned red. He said excitedly, "Father, what do you mean? I will live and die with you and Ordo City. I will never escape alone!"

Kebi Neng shook his head, his tone firm yet pleading: "Child, listen to your father. You are the hope of our Xianbei people. If you all die here, our Xianbei people will be truly finished. As long as there is green mountains, there will be no fear of running out of firewood. After you leave, find a safe place, hide your identity, live well, and preserve a trace of our Xianbei bloodline."

Ulanda fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face, and said in a trembling voice, "Father, I will not leave. I will die with you, and live and die with the Xianbei." He choked with sobs, his heart full of entanglement and pain, struggling between loyalty to his father and tribe and the instinct to survive.

Ke Bineng suddenly flew into a rage, his eyes wide open, like an old, furious wolf king cornered in despair, and he fiercely kicked Wulanda in the chest. Wulanda was caught off guard and was knocked to the ground, landing heavily in the mud.

Kebineng roared at the fallen Ulanda, "Death isn't scary, but if we all die, our lineage will be completely cut off! Living is the hard part, don't be a coward! Letting you take the Golden Horde guards away means you're taking away the last spark of our ancestors' fire, not letting you die in vain! You have to remember, living is harder than dying!"

Ulanda gritted his teeth, struggled to get up from the ground, and once again rushed over to hug his father's legs, his eyes full of reluctance and pain: "But father..."

The fury on Kebineng's face gradually turned to sadness. He slowly squatted down and gently patted the head of Wulanda, who was hugging his legs. His eyes were full of love and determination. He said, "Child, remember, escape. Remember, never cross the North Sea. There is no place for us there anymore. There may still be hope further north. Carry on the hope of our Xianbei people and live on."

Wulan Da looked up at his father's face, which was full of vicissitudes and fatigue, and his vision was blurred by tears. He knew that his father had made up his mind, and it was for the continuation of the entire Xianbei lineage. After a long moment, he slowly released his hand from holding his father's leg, nodded seriously, and said, "Father, I understand."