Li Shimin faked his death? Then I will be powerful enough to conquer the world!

Dusk, like a cloud scorched by war, rolled across the sky. Beneath the blood-red sunset, the walls of Isfahan stood silently, like a scarred old man.

Bursts of sharp whistling sounds cut through the sky.

"Prepare defense!"

The roars of the coalition generals echoed on the city walls.

However, all defensive preparations seemed so pale and powerless in the face of the terrifying power of the Divine Fire Crow.

The first divine fire crow slammed heavily into the center of the camp within the defense line, bursting into dazzling flames.

Immediately afterwards, there was a deafening explosion, and the air wave was like an invisible giant hand, ruthlessly blowing away the surrounding tents, carriages and soldiers.

The flames instantly engulfed everything. The wooden buildings burned rapidly under the high temperature, making crackling sounds, sparks flying, and fire rained down from the sky.

An Arab warrior was knocked over by the air wave and slammed heavily against a stone pillar, blood spurting from his mouth and his eyes full of unwillingness and fear. Not far away, the Byzantine shield guards tried to form a shield wall to resist the impact, but were blown to pieces by the powerful air wave.

Then, more divine fire crows fell like raindrops.

The entire defense line fell into chaos, with explosions and screams intertwined.

The bravest soldiers in the coalition forces also lost their usual composure at this moment. They fled in all directions, looking for corners to hide.

Some hid behind heavy shields, some crawled into ruined cellars, and some even dropped their weapons and ran madly in the flames, trying to escape from this hell on earth.

A young Indian soldier was forced into a corner by the flames. He waved his dagger desperately, but was burned by the heat wave and fell to the ground, rolling in pain.

Several soldiers rushed into the fire regardless of danger to rescue the wounded, but were blown away by the blast of the second explosion and their lives were in danger.

In this war, there was no fierce clash of swords and no face-to-face fighting as in traditional wars. However, the casualties of the coalition forces were far more severe than imagined.

The wounded soldiers fell in a pool of blood, wailing in pain.

Their wounds were bloody and mangled by the impact of flames and explosions, some lost limbs, and some were burned beyond recognition.

The blood dyed the land of Isfahan red, contrasting with the burning flames, and the entire battlefield looked like a real hell.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of blood and burnt things, which made people feel sick.

Fortunately, after the Divine Fire Flying Crow's bombardment continued for a while, the Tang army chose to retreat.

On the horizon, the flags of the Tang army gradually disappeared into the twilight, leaving behind only a devastated battlefield and the frightened coalition forces.

Everyone was speculating about the reason for the Tang army's retreat. Some said that the Tang army had run out of artillery shells, and some said that their firearms had malfunctioned.

Various speculations spread among the coalition forces, becoming a little comfort they sought in their fear.

Some soldiers collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath, their eyes dull, having not yet recovered from the nightmare.

Some generals began to organize manpower, clean up the battlefield and treat the wounded.

Amidst all this chaos and speculation, only Muawiyah had a clear mind.

He slowly walked up to the defense line, looking deeply in the direction where the Tang army was leaving.

He knew that all this was a common tactic used by the Tang Dynasty to win over people's hearts and minds.

The strategic wisdom of the Tang Dynasty has always been to pursue "subduing the enemy without fighting."

The main generals of the Tang army obviously did not want to waste too much time and energy in Isfahan. Their real purpose was to make the coalition forces surrender voluntarily and exchange the greatest victory for the smallest cost.

He gently stroked the scimitar at his waist, recalling past battles with the Tang Dynasty. He knew how formidable the other side was, and secretly thought about how to deal with it.

Muawiyah looked at the city engulfed in flames and sighed inwardly.

This was just a tentative attack by the Tang army, but it completely destroyed the morale of the coalition forces.

In war, failure is not terrible. What is really terrible is losing the will and courage to fight.

Once the morale is lost, even the most powerful army will become a pile of loose sand.

He looked at the dejected soldiers and the desperate civilians, and knew that the most important thing now was to rally everyone's fighting spirit, otherwise, only destruction would await them.

At this time in Isfahan, the streets were full of people busy putting out fires.

They carried buckets of water and sacks, moving through the thick smoke, trying to put out the raging fire.

Although the fire was still fierce, their efforts preserved a glimmer of hope for the city.

Justinian, the Byzantine emperor, was now hiding in the relative safety of a tent.

His heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst through his chest. The sounds around him were blurred in his ears, and he could only hear the pounding of his own heartbeat.

His imperial robe was soaked with sweat. He kept wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, his eyes full of fear and helplessness.

Extreme fear made him lose his former dignity. Like a frightened rabbit, he pulled away the hands of his personal guards and shouted in a trembling voice: "Muawiya! Where is Muawiya! I want to see him!"

His eyes were filled with despair and fear. "We can't fight any further! The gap is too big! No matter how many of us there are, we are no match for the Tang army! Go find him! Surrender! We can't fight anymore!"

His voice was sharp and trembling, with a tearful tone, completely lacking the demeanor of a king in the past.

Justinian's words caused a huge stir in the tent.

Everyone around, regardless of which camp they came from, lowered their heads silently.

Their silence is a helpless acknowledgement of reality and a confused fear of the future.

Justinian said what they had always wanted to say but dared not say, and revealed the powerlessness of the coalition forces in the face of the powerful offensive of the Tang army.

Some generals clenched their fists, feeling unwilling but unable to find any reason to refute.

Some soldiers showed expressions of relief, as if surrender was a relief for them.

Not far away, Muawiya came with Susulia and India's general minister Khufu.

Muawiyah looked at Justinian's distraught expression, a complex expression flashing in his eyes. "See? That was the last ray of light of the Holy Roman Empire, the Byzantine Emperor. He was so scared that his guts were broken."

The attitude of the Byzantine emperor is likely to affect the direction of the coalition forces.

Muawiyah turned to look at Khufu and asked, "Khufu, do you still want to fight?"

Kefu met Muawiyah's gaze, his eyes firm and fiery. "We, the entire nation of India, have annexed Arabia, abandoning our homeland and traveling thousands of miles. Even if you are frightened, we Indians will not. We, the Indians, will resist to the end."

"We in India are different from you Arabs. We have been kneeling for too long. We finally stood up thanks to the Tang Dynasty."

"If I make them kneel again, they'll never be able to stand up again. Kneeling for so long will make you numb."

"Caliph, will you surrender?"

His voice was sonorous and powerful, full of ambition and passion, which attracted the attention of everyone present.

As Muawiya listened to what Khufu said, he couldn't help but feel a little respect for the Indian leader.

"Indeed, it's the luck of cowardly India that a leader like you can emerge. It's a pity that you were born at the wrong time. You met the Tang Dynasty, but the Tang Dynasty will not give you the opportunity to develop."

He paused slightly, a flicker of reminiscence in his eyes, "As for me, during Ali's time, he brought our Arab Empire to its knees. Every year, Ali offered half of our annual income to the Tang Dynasty in exchange for peace."

"Before, I looked down on Ali. I thought he was a coward. I know the Tang Dynasty is strong, but we, the Arab Empire, will never kneel down."

"But today, seeing the Tang Dynasty's military might, I suddenly understood Ali's thoughts. Even so, I still look down on him."

"We Arabs can die standing up, but we can never live on our knees!"

His words were firm and powerful, which made some of the people around him who had been wavering reaffirm their determination to resist.