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

On the edge of the raging battlefield, the air was thick with the scent of death, and gunpowder smoke swirled in the air like a ghost. The enemy general's fury erupted like a volcano, a fury at the enemy's resistance and a frantic desire for victory. His eyes, bloodshot, seemed to burn with two blazing flames. He gripped the long sword at his waist tightly, as if it were the only way to vent his rage.

As he yanked out his long sword, its blade flashed with a chilling cold light, like a death messenger from hell, foreshadowing the bloodshed and terror to come. He trudged towards Erica, each step carrying murderous intent, and the earth seemed to tremble beneath his feet.

Erica, the young and brave soldier, was now pale as a sheet. Her eyes were filled with fear and despair, like a lamb trapped in a dark abyss. She struggled, but her body felt pinned down, unable to move, as if the shackles of fate had bound her tightly. She was filled with resentment. She had once cherished the dream of defending her homeland, but now faced such a cruel end.

Without hesitation, the enemy general raised his long sword, his arm raised high, muscles tensed, as if accumulating endless strength. Then, with force, he swung it down, the long sword drawing a sharp arc through the air, accompanied by a sharp sound of wind, like the scythe of the god of death, slashing towards Erica's neck.

There was a dull crash, as if the entire world shook. Like the death knell of fate, it sounded the end of Erica's life. Erica's body trembled violently, and her head seemed to be torn away by an invisible force. It tumbled through the air before landing heavily on the ground with a resounding thud, a sound that echoed across the silent battlefield, seeming particularly harsh.

Erica's eyes widened, a look of disbelief on her face. Her mouth parted as if she were about to utter a final cry, but no sound came out. Her eyes were filled with pain and resentment, as if she spoke of her attachment to life and her fear of death. Perhaps she was still thinking of her distant loved ones, of those unfulfilled wishes, but everything was shattered in an instant.

Blood gushed from her headless neck like a crimson fountain, splattering the surrounding female soldiers. The stench of blood filled the air, making them sick. The surrounding female soldiers watched this tragic scene, some screaming in fear, others silently weeping, their hearts filled with grief and anger. This wasn't just Erica's tragedy; it was a cruel portrayal of war as a whole.

War, like a merciless storm, sweeps away all that is beautiful. It shatters countless families and takes countless lives. Erica is just one of the countless casualties of war. Her death reveals to people the ugliness and ruthlessness of war.

On this bloody battlefield, life seemed so fragile, so insignificant. Those female soldiers knew they could be next, yet they refused to retreat. With a gleam of determination in their eyes, they gripped their weapons tightly, ready to defend their dignity with their lives. They knew that only by persisting in the fight could they avenge their fallen comrades and restore life to this war-torn land.

After slashing Erica to pieces, the enemy general revealed a ferocious grin. He believed victory was within reach, yet he didn't realize his brutality would only provoke further resistance. This war was far from over, and countless blood would continue to flow until the dawn of peace finally arrived.