A few days ago—

Within the palace of Ying Country, at about the same time, Jiang Wanxiang received the intelligence from the front lines: Zhenbei City, the number one heroic city under heaven, lay before him like a succulent piece of meat.

All he needed to do was reach out his hand, and it seemed he could grasp this monumental achievement.

Were he a mediocre ruler, he might have already been unable to resist his ambition, urging his armies to advance. But the aging monarch gazed upon Zhenbei City for a long while, then merely smiled helplessly:

"Chen Dingye, oh Chen Dingye, at such a time, you still manage to present me with such a problem."

Jiang Su stood beside Jiang Wanxiang, watching the aging monarch smile helplessly. Jiang Wanxiang said, "Though we had previous plans, this opportunity is once in a lifetime."

This venomous dragon, Chen Dingye, is seldom willing to use himself as the cost for a meal, inviting us to join in the feast. My body may not withstand it, but you must not let this grand banquet go to waste."

"A meal opened once in eight hundred years is enough to make a name in history, enough to uplift the spirit, enough to be thrilling. As for future plans, they are of lesser concern..."

Jiang Wanxiang’s hair was already gray and white. As he looked at the intelligence, composed and unhurried, he said, "Before my life ends, seeing such a scene makes a lifetime of battles worthwhile. You may go."

"It’s also a greeting to Li Guanyi. In the end, it will be our struggle against him. We are all heroes of the Central Plains, fighting life and death; it is nothing. Over the many years, the heroes of the Central Plains fought desperately, no?"

"But if in fighting desperately, exhausting the blood of heroes, a chance for unity arises only after much difficulty, yet internal conflicts cause exhaustion, allowing outsiders to take advantage, causing chaos in my Central Plains, we’ll be cursed by future generations."

"Jiang Su."

Jiang Su bowed his head and said, "Your Majesty."

Jiang Wanxiang wore a majestic smile on his aged face:

"Go and annihilate the Turks."

The aging monarch walked past the Grandmaster, step by step, saying, "My life has been like a grand play; a play inevitably has an ending, and a final climax, but before that, there must be a warming prelude."

"Chen Dingye is perhaps doomed, and I, must also go for this final battle."

As the wind blew by, the grasslands swayed like turbulent waves.

The Great Khan of the Turks failed to await his reinforcements, and at this time, he finally realized something. He finally realized what Chen Dingye intended to do, the gray-haired Great Khan watching the front.

Poisoned by the Fei Poison, Chen Dingye propped himself on his sword, watching from afar the strongest Great Khan of the Turks in centuries. As the wind blew past, Chen Dingye’s battle robe fluttering, his white hair disheveled, if observed closely, his eyes held a peculiar color caused by the Fei Poison—

But the life of the Turkic Khan, how could it be enough?

The kingly dignity in death lay in using one’s own life as a ransom, holding the strongest warriors and the monarch of the Turks tightly here. If possible, he also wished to achieve more, but alas, alas.

In the face of such a situation, Chen Dingye decided to stake everything.

He, although lacking reinforcements, never believed in any camaraderie, but rather trusted his opponents, trusted his enemies.

He believed in profit.

He believed even if Prince Qin or Jiang Wanxiang chose to seize Zhenbei City, they wouldn’t just curl up inside.

He had exhausted the last blood of Great Chen, dragging the Great Khan firmly here. With Prince Qin’s valor, with Jiang Wanxiang’s grandeur, facing such a scenario, was there really a second choice?

With their determination, would they give up that opportunity?

The worst, it was only their choice to trample underfoot, along with Chen’s last flame, and the spine of the Turks.

"Thoroughly end these eight hundred years of grievances."

"Since the unification of the Central Plains eight hundred years ago, there have been all sorts of disputes, and with the blood of Great Chen, let these eight hundred years of grudges be buried, let the Turkic on the grassland—"

"Be annihilated!"

Chen Dingye drew the sword at his waist, eyes downcast, yet thought of that steadfast and serious general, a slight smile playing at his lips; you were right, Lu Youxian.

Great Chen, oh Great Chen.

With the sound of zithers and flutes, with the Buddhist, Taoist, Confucian, and Mohist schools, cultural flourishing, world-leading military strength feared by all four corners, the people living peacefully, even street vendors discussing poetry.

Great Chen, such a splendid name, such a magnificent past.

The end of this name.

Should not come to a close through treachery and deceit.

Great Chen’s demise, how can it be all scheming and plotting?

That would be too unseemly, too dull. Great Khan, let your ambition accompany Great Chen to the grave. Even if Great Chen truly perishes, it will drag the Turks down with it!

Chen Dingye swung the sword in his hand.

The banners of the Qilin and the fierce tiger billowed on the battlefield, and after cutting off the rear reinforcements, Military God Jiang Su didn’t turn towards Zhenbei City but chose to march directly with the Ying Country armies from behind.

Jiang Su’s military might, like a sharp blade, piercing straight into the Royal Tent of the Turkic Great Khan.

Outside Zhenbei City, the battle raged, the former second Divine General, the Khan, realizing something was amiss, decisively broke through and retreated from the battlefield, while Prince Qin’s eyes lifted slightly, battling with the Khan in the field, yet didn’t block him with a fight to the death.