The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

Bishan's head drooped weakly to one side, as if she had lost all life. Her eyes remained wide open, revealing a deep sense of despair and unwillingness. Those eyes, as if frozen in death, seemed to contain endless sorrow and resentment.

Her gaze stared straight ahead, as if peering through the void, glimpsing her unfulfilled wishes and dreams. It was a longing for life, an anticipation for the future, yet all of it vanished in an instant. The reluctance in her eyes seemed a rebellion against fate, a confession of regret for what could not be realized.

A trace of pain lingered on her face, a mark of the suffering she endured in her final moments. Her lips parted slightly, as if about to speak, yet swallowed by the silence of death. That trace of pain, like a torn scroll, revealed her inner struggle and pain.

Her hair fell in disarray, obscuring her once beautiful features. She was no longer the radiant woman she once was, but a pitiful soul abandoned by fate. Her body trembled slightly, as if she were making a final struggle against the power of death, but nothing could be undone.

The other sisters stood at a distance, watching Bishan's death with their own eyes. Their bodies seemed frozen, unable to move, they could only stare blankly at what was happening before them.

Bishan's body slowly collapsed, eventually dying. Even then, not a single sister dared to step forward to investigate. Their hearts were filled with fear and despair, for they knew full well the vast gap between their realms and Bishan's. Facing such a formidable foe, they stood no chance of victory.

The enemy general stood still, spear drawn, like a god of war. He emanated a powerful aura that sent shivers down their spines. The young female soldiers trembled uncontrollably, their eyes revealing a deep sense of fear and helplessness.

The enemy general suddenly let out a roar, resounding like thunder in the women's ears. It seemed to possess some kind of magical power, and the two timid women immediately bled from all seven orifices, frightened to death. The other women, terrified beyond belief, hurriedly dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.

After Bishan's death, the fifty female soldiers she led succumbed to the enemy's tyranny. Their original courage and fighting spirit collapsed in the face of the enemy's strength.

Bishan's body hung lifeless on the city wall. Her skin was as pale as paper, as if all the vitality had been drained away. Her eyes were closed, and her once beautiful face now looked extremely miserable.

Her body was roughly stripped by the Gallic enemy, and her clothes were thrown aside casually, as if she were just a worthless object. Her long hair fell messily on her chest, covering her body but unable to hide the heartbreaking scars.

The wind from the tower blew, ruffling Bishan's long hair and causing her body to sway slightly. Her arms and legs hung limply, as if telling of the suffering she had endured. Bloodstains still lingered on her body, the final mark of her life.

Below the tower, the female soldiers watched in horror, their eyes filled with fear and sorrow. Unable to accept the tragic scene before them, their hearts filled with pity for Bishan and resentment towards the enemy. The enemy general, standing atop the tower, watched all this with smug complacency, his gaze revealing cruelty and ruthlessness.

The smoke of war had not yet completely dissipated from this land, and the acrid odor still permeated the air, making one want to vomit. The ferocious banners of the Gallic enemy army waved wildly on the city walls, as if showing off their "victory."

Bishan's lifeless body hung lifelessly from the city wall, a piercing sight on the devastated battlefield. Her skin was as pale as paper, as if drained of all life force, its once vibrant glow long gone. Her eyes were tightly closed, her long lashes resting quietly on her lids, but her once beautiful face now looked utterly miserable, like a soulless statue, left to the ravages of fate.

The Gallic enemy was brutal and cruel. They stripped Bisan naked, discarding the clothing she once cherished as if she were a worthless object. In their eyes, she was nothing more than a defeated victim, an object to be insulted and trampled upon. Her long hair draped across her chest, a fragile barrier that tried to hide her body, but could hardly conceal the heartbreaking scars. Those wounds, like the branding of the enemy's hideous face, spoke of their brutality and sin.

The wind from the tower, carrying a hint of chill, blew Bishan's long hair and caused her body to sway slightly. Her limbs hung limply, as if telling of the suffering she had endured. Each sway was a silent accusation against the world. Blood still lingered on her body, the final mark of her life, proof of her struggle in this cruel world.

Once, Bishan was a girl full of dreams. Under the warm sunshine, she would laugh and play with her friends; in the quiet of night, she would make beautiful wishes under the stars. She longed for the future, fantasizing about one day being with her beloved. However, the ruthless war shattered all her fantasies. When the Gallic enemy troops set foot on this land, she bravely took up arms and fought alongside other female soldiers. She feared no death, her heart filled only with love for this land and a desire for peace. However, she was ultimately no match for the ferocious enemy. In a fierce battle, she was tragically shot through the throat by an enemy general, killing her on the battlefield. What awaited her was untold torture and humiliation from the enemy. But she never gave in. Even in her final moments, her eyes remained firm, her unyielding spirit shining brightly in the darkness.

Now, she hangs silently atop the city walls, a casualty of this war. Her death is more than just the loss of one life; it epitomizes the tragic fate of countless innocent civilians. Gazing upon her body, anger burns within the people. Those who survived secretly vow to avenge Bishan and all their compatriots who died in the war. They wipe away their tears, take up their weapons once more, and hold a single conviction in their hearts: to drive out the enemy, reclaim their homeland, and bring peace back to this land.

Bishan's story will be forever etched in people's hearts. Her bravery and tenacity will inspire generations to fight for peace. Perhaps one day, this land will be free from the smoke of war, and tragedies like Bishan's will never happen again. Then, people will lay flowers at her grave, commemorating her heroic deeds and allowing her soul to rest in peace in a land of peace.

"You women, if you behave yourself today, maybe you can still have a chance to live." His voice was low and cold, but it carried an unquestionable threat.

The enemy general was like a vicious wolf, looking down on the bloody battlefield at will, and the fifty female soldiers led by Bishan were now completely in a desperate situation.

Seeing the female soldiers drop their weapons and raise their hands, the enemy general sneered cruelly. With a wave of his hand, a group of soldiers, as ferocious as wolves and tigers, pounced on the female soldiers.

The enemy general then ordered his soldiers to escort the women back into the city. Along the way, the women stumbled, their steps shrouded in fear like a dark cloud. The surrounding enemies constantly humiliated and abused them, their unbearable words piercing their hearts like sharp arrows.