We have fought to the Arctic Circle, and you want me to inherit the throne?

To the north, Ma Zhong and Dorje Tsering stood back to back, fighting side by side. One was a sharpshooter with ruthless skill, while the other was a shrewd and powerful swordsman.

The two worked together very well, holding off the enemy soldiers scaling the city walls at the narrow crenellations.

Ma Zhong even managed to throw out his eagle claw rope, pulling a Tibetan soldier who was climbing down from mid-air, causing him to fall to his death against the base of the wall.

Duan Rui, the most timid fellow, actually went into battle himself.

However, his skills were really lacking. He could handle two or three Tibetan soldiers with ease, but he was helpless against a larger number of them.

He was saved from being hacked to death by Ma Zhong.

Ma Zhong was furious and kicked him back into the crowd, telling him to stop causing trouble.

Meanwhile, Li Che personally guarded the south city gate tower.

Several siege ladders simultaneously approached this section of the city wall, and countless enemy soldiers swarmed up.

Although the defenders fought bravely, they lost the suppression of arrows, and the enemy's speed in scaling the city was too fast. As their forces shifted, several breaches were successively broken.

The fierce Tibetan soldiers, wielding curved swords and maces, clashed fiercely with the Qing army soldiers, tearing the battle lines to shreds.

"Your Majesty! It's dangerous here, please retreat!"

Qiu Bai and several guards stood firmly in front of Li Che, brandishing their swords and deflecting the flying arrows and thrown short axes.

Hu Qiang had already roared and was now wielding an iron rod, moving back and forth among the densely packed enemy troops on the city wall.

Li Che acted as if he hadn't heard. He pushed Qiu Bai aside, who was blocking his way, and with a clang, drew his goose-feather saber from his waist.

This knife was a gift from Yang Xuan; it was her personal scabbard that accompanied her in battles for many years.

Because Yang Xuan was tied up with affairs in the capital and could not come along, she gave the knife to Li Che to carry, which served as a kind of talisman for Li Che.

"I will defend my own city walls!"

Having said that, Li Che fluttered his black cloak and stepped forward to meet a battle.

"Your Majesty!" Qiu Bai exclaimed in horror, but it was too late to stop him.

The area had just been breached by Tibetan soldiers, and several fierce Tibetan soldiers were howling as they hacked and slashed at the defenders, trying to widen the gap.

The Tibetan soldiers also noticed the Qing man, who was dressed in black armor and had an extraordinary bearing, and their eyes immediately lit up with greed.

Judging from the exquisite craftsmanship of this armor, this person must be a high-ranking official; killing him would bring immense wealth!

"Ow!"

The first Tibetan strongman, wielding a heavy axe, immediately abandoned his opponent and lunged at Li Che with a sinister grin.

The giant axe came crashing down with a fierce wind, its force overwhelming, clearly belonging to a brave warrior in the Tibetan army.

Li Che neither dodged nor avoided the axe blade. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and his footwork shifted slightly like a ghost as he sidestepped it.

At the same time, the goose feather saber in his hand was slashed diagonally upwards!

The blade flashed like lightning, so fast that it left only a blur!

"laugh--"

The sharp blade sliced ​​through the leather armor, cut into the flesh, and severed the bones.

The Tibetan strongman's momentum came to an abrupt halt, and the giant axe slipped from his grasp.

The precious sword that Yang Xuan used was incredibly sharp.

He looked down in disbelief and saw a terrifying, deep gash running from his right rib to his left shoulder, almost cleaving him in two.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, and before he could even scream, he collapsed to the ground.

The other two Tibetan soldiers were both shocked and enraged, and simultaneously thrust their scimitars and spears from the left and right.

Li Che moved again, twisting his body the instant the spear tip touched his body, and slashed the spear shaft upwards with his goose-feather saber.

The blade swept across the wrist of the Tibetan soldier holding the spear, and with a scream, all five fingers were severed!

At the same time, his left hand reached out like an iron clamp, precisely grabbing the wrist of the scimitar coming from the right and twisting it forcefully.

"Crack!"

A crisp cracking sound rang out as the wrist bone broke.

The Tibetan soldier screamed in agony as his scimitar fell to the ground.

Li Che's right hand wielded the goose-feather saber, which, like a venomous snake, flicked back, its tip lightly piercing Li Che's throat.

"Uh!"

The Tibetan soldiers stared wide-eyed at the figure in black armor before them, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Li Che revealed a sinister smile, then drew his goose-feather blade, unleashing a spray of blood.

In the blink of an eye, all three fierce Tibetan soldiers were killed.

Li Che, however, did not stop for a moment. He charged into the city wall with his goose-feather saber, slashing at anyone he encountered, each strike drawing blood.

The morale of the Qing soldiers near the city wall was suddenly dampened by the enemy's breakthrough.

Seeing that His Majesty the Emperor had personally taken to the battlefield and possessed such superb martial arts skills that he had killed several enemy soldiers, the soldiers' blood boiled and their morale soared!

"Long live His Majesty! Kill!"

"Follow His Majesty to kill the Tibetan dogs!"

"Great Qing! Great Qing Army!"

"kill!!!"

The roar instantly drowned out the fear, and the Qing army on the city wall began to counterattack.

Li Che, sword in hand, led his soldiers in a counter-attack, charging towards wherever the breach was most dangerous.

The goose feather saber seemed to come alive in his hands; his slashes, cuts, parries, and thrusts were all simple yet precise and deadly.

His dark cloak was soaked with blood, but his hand holding the knife was as steady as a rock, and his eyes were as cold as ice.

The emperor himself braved arrows and stones, fighting a bloody battle!

This is the most potent stimulant in the world, and its effects spread throughout the four gates in an instant.

The Qing army, which had been showing signs of fatigue in close combat, was infused with a savage power and began to unleash astonishing fighting strength.

Yue Yun's spear swept through the air, sending a Tibetan flag bearer flying; Luo Yueniang's spear moved like the wind, slaying more than a dozen men; Ma Zhong yelled as he threw his last grenade, which exploded in the enemy ranks, and together with Dorje Tsering, they fought off a wave of enemies scaling the city walls...

The fierce battle lasted for the entire morning.

Corpses littered the city walls, their blood melting the ice armor and then freezing back into a dark red, slippery shell at the low temperature.

Both sides were in a frenzy of fighting, and the air was thick with the stench of blood.

Finally, as the sun rose to its zenith, the Tibetan rear guard sounded the retreating drums in resentment.

The tidal wave of attacks slowly receded, and the Tibetan soldiers already on the city walls were all abandoned, dying in despair amidst the Qing army's siege.

The four gates of Chuimacheng were still in the hands of the Qing army, but many of the crenellations of the city walls were damaged.

The wounded defenders leaned against the battlements, panting, while the reserves carried away the bodies of their comrades and piled up the corpses of the enemy at the city gate.

Li Che, leaning on his goose-feather sword, stood by the broken crenellations of the south city gate tower.

Blood seeped from the blade into the ground, and the black armor was covered with knife marks and arrow wounds.

He gazed at the retreating enemy troops, his expression remaining calm, though his chest rose and fell slightly.

Qiu Bai hurried forward, noticing the marks on his armor, and said anxiously, "Your Majesty, you are injured..."

"Skin and flesh injuries, nothing serious."

Li Che interrupted him, slowly exhaling a breath of white air that smelled of blood.

His gaze swept over the tragic scene on the city wall, then turned to the distant horizon.

They held on once again.

But their arrows were exhausted, and most of the rolling logs and stones had been used up, and the casualties among the soldiers continued to rise...

Next time, if the Tibetans attack like this again, can we still hold our ground through hand-to-hand combat?

Logically speaking, Wang Sanchun's reinforcements should have arrived long ago, so why haven't they come yet?

Li Che felt a pang of regret; he had indeed been careless.

He considered himself a renowned general of his time, with flawless strategies, but he failed to realize that the situation in war is ever-changing.

Given this situation, Wang Sanchun must have encountered some trouble, which is why he has been delayed.

His decision to defend Chuimacheng to the death seemed too risky.

At that time, we did not expect so many enemy troops to return, nor did we expect the reinforcements to arrive so late, which led to the current situation.

This made Li Che secretly wary; underestimating his enemy could very well lead to his death.

. . . . . .

The night was as dark as ink, and the cold wind was like a knife, howling through the air above the Tibetan camp with snowflakes.

Dorje, accompanied by a group of personal guards, inspected the camp as he walked on the crunching frozen ground.

The failed daytime siege led to an increasingly somber atmosphere in the camp, permeating every tent.

Suppressed groans could be heard everywhere, occasionally punctuated by a painful scream.

The wounded soldiers' camp was a living hell. Soldiers who were scalded by boiling oil and molten gold during the day had festering, festering flesh that rapidly deteriorated in the freezing cold, emitting a strange stench of sweet, fishy, ​​and putrid smells.

The mournful cries were intermittent, like the whimpers of a dying beast.

Many more suffer from frostbite, their hands and feet black and swollen, with severe cases of necrosis and loss of toes, huddled in thin blankets, shivering.

The accompanying shaman was helpless, and the meager amount of herbs he had was of no use whatsoever.

Dorjee could only watch helplessly as the lives of his wounded soldiers slowly slipped away in the cold and infection.

He stopped outside a large tent for wounded soldiers, listening to the heart-wrenching coughs inside, his expression shifting between light and shadow in the flickering torchlight.

He tightened his wolf-skin cloak, but still felt little warmth.

The siege has lasted for more than four days, but the losses have exceeded expectations.

Chuimacheng, however, remained firmly rooted in the frozen soil, like an iron thorn, unmoved.

Or... should we retreat?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he forcefully suppressed it.

Having paid such a price, how could he possibly explain himself to the Grand Master if he were to simply retreat?

Such a complete defeat meant that even if Dorje was a high-ranking commander in charge of the central border defense forces and enjoyed the great trust of the Grand Master, he would certainly not have a good end.

Moreover, setting aside the severe punishment, he simply couldn't swallow this insult!

But if we continue with a strong attack...

Looking at the devastation in the camp before him, Dorje felt as if a heavy, cold block of ice was lodged in his chest.

The resistance of the Qing people was more tenacious than imagined, especially since the emperor dared to personally brave arrows and stones to scale the city walls and fight, which greatly boosted the morale of the defenders.

Although the arrows in the city seemed to have run out, the city walls remained unmoved.

He turned abruptly, no longer looking at the wounded soldiers' tent, and strode towards the central command tent.

My footsteps crunched and cracked in the snow, as if trying to bury all my frustrations into the ground.

We cannot back out, at least not now.

Tomorrow...tomorrow we must take down Chuimacheng!

If all else fails, commit the entire army and gamble our fate on this battle!

. . . . . .

Under the same night sky, the wind blows across the city walls.

The torchlight flickered between the crenellations, making the scars on the city wall appear even more grotesque.

Li Che, wearing a black cloak stained with blood, walked silently along the city wall, accompanied by Qiu Bai and several guards.

The traces of the daytime bloodbath were shocking.

The rammed earth city wall was pierced by stones, leaving several shallow pits with jagged edges.

Many sections of the battlements were destroyed by the battering ram, and the broken bricks from the grappling hooks could not be repaired in time. They were barely filled with debris and frozen sandbags.

The smooth ice armor that once covered it was gone, replaced by large patches of dark red and black frozen blood and bits of flesh.

The scene at the city gate was even more appalling.