The screams for mercy echoed one after another, creating a horrific harmony under the hot afternoon sun of Xuzhou City. The sea of mud in front of the city gate was no longer brown. The floodwater and clay had mixed perfectly with thousands of liters of fresh blood. The swamp had turned a deep, glossy red, reflecting the image of death from every angle. “Mercy! Please, don’t kill me! I surrender!” a heavy Wei infantryman shouted. The soldier’s body had sunk up to his chest in the sucking mud. He had dropped his greatsword, raising his two trembling, mud-covered hands in the air. His terrified eyes looked at a Pingyuan soldier who was gliding closer on a lard-smeared wooden door. The Pingyuan soldier didn’t slow down at all. His face was hard, filled with a burning, vengeful hatred. “You ask for mercy after you slaughtered my brother’s wif

Thousands of iron boots trampled on the pile of flesh and bone that was beginning to rot. The metallic smell of fresh blood mixed with the swamp gas wafted into the air every time the Corpse Bridge was stepped on. The elite Wei army roared savagely. They ran across the hellish causeway with blazing red eyes, driven by hunger and the absolute instruction of their tyrant. At the end of that disgusting bridge, right at the mouth of the east gate of Xuzhou, which had become rubble, five figures stood tall, defying the sea of humanity. Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, Zhao Yun, and Zhou Cang stood firm. They formed a living barricade that closed the only access to the heart of the city. The strong afternoon wind carried a very thick smell of death, hitting the faces of the five heroes. Dian Wei stepped down from the corpse bridge. His large boots slammed into the rocky ground of Xuzhou with a thud. Behind him, a wave of Wei infan

Thirty seconds. The number flashed red in Jo Fan’s retina like an unavoidable death sentence. Down in the courtyard of Xuzhou’s east gate, the scene was draining what was left of Jo Fan’s sanity. In terms of fighting skill, the Shu-Han generals were absolutely superior. Guan Yu could parry the attacks of three top Wei generals at once. Zhao Yun could still break through the defensive line of five hundred elite infantry alone. Liu Bei and Zhou Cang continued to cleave through anyone who dared to get close. And Zhang Fei was still standing, even with a torn arm. They were winning by a landslide in terms of skill. But in terms of numbers and stamina, Xuzhou had lost completely. Human muscle has its limits. The air they were breathing had been replaced by the metallic smell of blood and dust. Guan Yu’s hand holding the guandao was beginning to tremble. Zhao Yun’s steps were no longer as light as