Transmigrating to a Female-Dominated World: Pampering My Little Husband

I admire it, but this reform is not something that can be achieved overnight.

And the current occasion is not a debate about his male and female rights.

"Now is the time for war between the two countries," Han Zixuan could only interrupt.

"While Prince Wen is shrewd and calculating, that does not justify his burning, killing, and looting of my Fenglin Kingdom..."

He unconsciously tightened his grip on the long sword in his hand.

Wen Qing gradually came to her senses, "Han Zixuan, if you're so stubborn, then this prince won't waste any more words with you!"

The atmosphere instantly became extremely tense, and the army behind immediately took up positions.

"what!"

The sound waves shook the surrounding flocks of birds, causing them to take flight.

General Du gave the order, and the soldiers standing behind the civilians immediately began to slash at them.

Han Zixuan suddenly raised her longsword high above her head, and Vice General Hai on the city wall immediately saw the signal.

He shouted, "Release the arrows!" and a hail of arrows rained down instantly.

Wen Qing suddenly took her sword from the hand of a servant.

The attendant, worried, quickly exclaimed, "Your Highness, your injuries..."

Wen Qing gave him a cold look, and the servant immediately shut up.

Before he could react, more than a dozen men in black robes rushed towards Han Zixuan.

They were all guards who followed Wen Qing around, so naturally they always rushed to her aid.

In addition, the death of Chen Pi fueled their long-simmering anger.

A dozen or so figures in black robes darted out like ghosts, carrying a chilling killing intent, and rushed straight towards Han Zixuan.

Ruthless moves intertwined to form an impenetrable encirclement, but Han Zixuan only glanced around and curled a cold smile at the corner of her mouth: "We meet again."

Before she finished speaking, the longsword in her hand had already transformed into a silver light, each collision accompanied by a sharp, piercing sound.

The men in black moved swiftly, changing positions rapidly, each move aimed at Han Zixuan's vital points with vicious intent.

Han Zixuan narrowed her eyes as the sword in her hand flashed.

A muffled groan suddenly rang out—and moments later, a man in black robes clutched his chest and collapsed heavily to the ground.

At the same time, the 30,000-strong army behind Wen Qing was roaring and charging toward the city gate, their dust billowing and carrying an overwhelming ferocity.

On the hillside where they were lying in ambush in the distance, Lieutenant General Li was sweating profusely, while Qin Ying beside him clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Her dad... even her mother can't wait..."

They watched as the army of Dongsang Kingdom finally arrived at the location that Han Zixuan had marked beforehand.

Lieutenant General Li suddenly stood up and shouted in a booming voice: "Sisters, charge!"

Don't let those bastards get away!

"Charge...charge!"

The moment the two armies clashed, the heavens and earth seemed to shake.

Banners fluttered in the gale, mingling with billowing smoke that stained half the sky with a murky, yellowish hue.

As soon as the soldiers collided, countless swords drew bright arcs in the air, their clanging sounds as dense as popping beans.

Sparks flew onto the blood-stained armor, and their eyes burned with intense passion.

"kill--!"

A deafening roar tore through the clouds, accompanied by the crisp sound of a long sword cleaving through a shield.

There was the dull thud of a spear piercing a body, and the unwilling roar of a dying warrior.

Some leaped forward over the corpses of their comrades, while others tumbled into the dust, clutching their enemies, amidst the dull thud of steel blades piercing flesh.

Mixed with the dull thud of horses' hooves crushing bones, broken halberds and shattered swords were stuck in the scorched earth.

The broken banners swayed precariously amidst the smoke of battle, while the sounds of fighting rose and fell.

It was fiercer than a gale, more violent than thunder, swirling up clouds of dust.

Han Zixuan swung her longsword wildly within the encirclement.

In a turn, he grabbed the wrist of a man in black.

With a sudden exertion of force, the man's wrist cracked with a soft, shattering sound.

The man in black gritted his teeth but couldn't suppress the excruciating pain.

"Ah! Ahhh!"

Seeing this, the others drew their swords and swung them at Han Zixuan.

But they missed their target; Han Zixuan had already slipped behind them.

He dealt a heavy blow to the group, and a cloud of blood mist filled the air.

Those men were no longer alive. With a flick of his longsword, he pierced through the chest of the man with the severed hand.

She quickly withdrew it again, and throughout the entire process, Han Zixuan's face remained expressionless.

With a hint of anger in her eyes, Wenqing drew her sword and thrust it forward.

Wenqing was already carrying a heavy wound, and every movement aggravated the excruciating pain of her injuries.

His hand gripping the sword hilt was already trembling slightly from exhaustion, but when facing Han Zixuan, his eyes still burned with a desperate fire as he swung his sword with all his might to meet her attack.

Han Zixuan's gaze, however, was as cold as ice, showing not a trace of pity.

The longsword, accompanied by a strong wind, pierced through, each collision carrying immense force.

The sharp clang made Wen Qing's arm go numb, her hand split open, and her longsword almost flew out of her grasp.

He staggered back half a step, and the old wound on his shoulder suddenly tore open, and blood instantly soaked half of his sleeve, dripping down his fingertips and spreading into bright red spots.

"Still not willing to admit defeat?" Han Zixuan's voice was icy.

Wenqing seemed not to hear, and dragged her injured body forward again, her moves now disordered, only a ferocious ferocity remained.

But every sword strike he made was precisely blocked by Han Zixuan. The sparks from the clashing swords were reflected in Han Zixuan's cold eyes, without the slightest ripple.

Seeing the struggling figure in front of her, Han Zixuan was unwilling to waste any more time.

His body suddenly leaped up, like a bolt of silver lightning grazing past Wen Qing's side.

With a soft "swoosh," the longsword had already drawn a line of blood across her slender neck.

Wenqing felt a chill on her neck, followed by a gush of scalding blood.

He looked up blankly, his gaze passing over the fighting crowd and landing on the leisurely drifting white clouds in the sky, his pupils gradually dilating.

Darkness crept in from the edge of his vision, and the hand gripping the longsword finally lost its strength. With a clang, the sword fell to the ground.

His body swayed, and finally he couldn't hold on any longer, slowly falling backward, splattering dark red blood all over the ground.

General Du had just killed a soldier when he turned around and saw Wen Qing lying on the ground.

His eyes flashed, and he spurred his horse on, shouting, "Retreat! Retreat!"

Since even the Third Prince has been killed, there's no need to continue fighting.

It's more important to retreat and save your own life.

She turned and retreated, unaware that Han Zixuan had already spotted her.

With a light touch on the horse's back, he leaped into the air.

The longsword locked onto General Du, who was running away in a panic.

General Du felt a chill run down his spine, as if there were thorns behind him, and turned around to look.

Then a dazzling light shot straight at her vital point.

A sword's edge flashed in her pupils, and then her head was severed from her body.

The horse, dragging a headless corpse, galloped blindly on its back.

With a flick of its hoof, the corpse on the horse's back fell to the ground, rolled several times, and was finally decapitated.

Han Zixuan sheathed her longsword and looked at the soldiers who were still fighting.

He shouted, "The enemy general is ordered to die! The enemy leader has been beheaded!"

On the high slope, a messenger, holding a blood-stained spear, roared, his voice piercing through the sounds of battle, like thunder exploding in the sky above the battlefield.

Following the direction he pointed, countless eyes caught sight of the figure lying in a pool of blood, and instantly erupted in deafening shouts:

"The enemy general is dead—!"

"Kill!"