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

September 18th, dawn.

On the top of Kyoto City, the cold was bone-chilling, and despair was like icy water, soaking every Japanese soldier huddled behind the battlements.

Whether it was the civilians who were forced to pick up bamboo spears or the warriors with pale faces, their eyes were fixed on the mist-shrouded field below the city.

Dead silence.

A heart-stopping silence.

Sudden--

Boom!Boom!Boom!

The deep, powerful sound of war drums, as if striking directly on the heart of the earth, slowly came from the depths of the mist.

Then, there was another sound.

sand!sand!sand!

That was the sound of thousands of iron boots stepping on the ground.

Neat and heavy, with the cold texture of metal friction, it surges silently like a black tide.

The sound became clearer and more frequent, and finally merged into an endless low roar of death.

The mist was torn and dispersed by an invisible force.

The first thing that caught the eyes of the Kyoto defenders was a row of flags.

Countless scarlet flags, like a raging fire, instantly ignited the distant horizon.

On the flag, the huge word "Celebration" sparkled with dazzling golden light under the rising sun.

It was not the Fengtian Army’s blood-stained flag with the word “Feng” on it, but the Daqing flag.

It was the vast empire in the East, the behemoth that they once thought they could challenge.

Beneath the sea of ​​scarlet flags lies endless black.

Black armor! Black swords and spears! Black phalanx!

Fengtian Army... No! At this moment, the soldiers are holding the banner of "Daqing", representing the will of the entire China. They are the Qing Army!

No shouting, no noise.

There were only the footsteps as heavy as a mountain, the sound of war drums as low as thunder, and the low hum of metal friction.

This silent oppressive feeling is more despairing than any roar.

The Japanese people on the city walls were already frightened out of their wits, their teeth were chattering, and many of them were pissing and defecating.

Even the hands of some warriors holding their swords were shaking uncontrollably.

At this moment, the Japanese finally realized what they were facing.

That is a force that is enough to destroy a country!

. . . . . .

Under the banner of the central army, Li Che, dressed in heavy black armor, sat upright on his warhorse.

His cold eyes swept across the city ahead, his face expressionless, only a bottomless cold pool.

"Wang Sanchun."

"The general is here!"

Wang Sanchun, full of courage and bravery, rode his horse forward.

"You lead your troops to attack the west."

"As ordered!"

"Yang Xuan."

"The general is here!"

The calm female general clasped her fists.

"The north is yours."

"As ordered!"

"Xue Wei."

"The general is here!"

"The East Gate is yours."

"The last general takes command!"

A series of commands, crisp and clear, full of murderous intent.

Finally, Li Che's gaze turned to the front - the south gate of Kyoto, which is also the main city gate with the most strict defense and the greatest symbolic significance.

"The rest of you, follow me to attack the South Gate!"

Upon hearing this, Yang Xuan frowned slightly. He couldn't help but take a step forward and whispered, "Your Highness, surround us from all sides and leave no way out?"

"Should we follow the ancient method of surrounding three sides and leaving one side open to prevent the Japanese pirates from fighting desperately?"

This is a safe way to use troops. Giving the enemy a glimmer of hope in desperation can often undermine their will to fight to the death.

Li Che slowly turned his head and shook his head: "No need."

He raised his hand and pointed to the top of Kyoto City, saying coldly:

"Today, I am not here to capture cities and territories, but to destroy nations."

"In this battle, we will not give the Japanese pirates any illusions and will not leave them any chance of survival! This king wants them to..."

A cruel smile slowly appeared on Li Che's lips:

"...Struggle in despair! Perish in fear! Make them regret coming into this world as Japanese!"

Yang Xuan's heart was shaken, and he no longer had any doubts. He clasped his fists and said solemnly, "I understand!"

The order quickly spread throughout the army, and the Fengtian Army's war drums in all directions suddenly became rapid.

Countless scarlet flags with the word "Celebration" on them fluttered in the strong wind, and the huge army began to accelerate.

Like four surging black steel torrents, from four directions, they rushed towards Kyoto, the last isolated island.

At this critical moment, a sudden commotion broke out from the tall city gate tower at the south gate of Kyoto.

Immediately afterwards, a gorgeous flag with a golden background and embroidered with intricate white chrysanthemum patterns was raised high.

On the bloody and murderous battlefield, this flag appears so abrupt, yet carries a morbid sense of sacredness.

The Japanese soldiers on the city wall, who had been lifeless, waved their weapons excitedly and shouted fanatically the moment they saw the flag.

Even the civilians who were driven onto the city walls seemed to have found some illusory support at this moment, and began to shout in confusion but full of hope:

"Long Live His Majesty the Emperor!"

"Amaterasu bless you!"

“Onboard!!!”

A strange and frenzied atmosphere instantly spread across the city walls of Kyoto.

The morale of the Japanese people actually rose again because of the appearance of this flag.

"Chrysanthemum flag?"

Wen Zaiyin, who was beside Li Che, had already picked up the monoculars. After carefully identifying it, he said in a serious tone:

"Your Highness, this is the Japanese imperial family's chrysanthemum flag. It seems the young emperor has personally come to the top of the city wall to boost morale."