Over the past five days of attacks, the Ming Army had launched assault after assault.
The ground before the city was strewn with Ming soldiers' corpses, their casualties grievous.
Everywhere along the walls were the scars left by cannonball bombardments, while the Yuan Army within the city had suffered no small number of casualties as well.
Countless scaling ladders leaned against the walls. Ming soldiers climbed with sabers in hand, while those below fired arrows at the defenders above, keeping them pinned down.
Atop the battlements, the Yuan Army rained arrows down upon the Ming soldiers below and poured cauldron after cauldron of scalding hot oil over the walls. The Ming soldiers drenched in oil let out piercing screams, instantly turned into living torches—a truly miserable sight.
And that was not all.
Rolling stones.
Falling logs.
They crashed down ceaselessly from the battlements.
Even when Ming soldiers on the ladders charged forward like madmen, climbed onto the walls, and fought the Yuan soldiers at close quarters, they were immediately met by countless Yuan soldiers closing in to slaughter them.
At the city gates, dozens of Ming soldiers pushed battering rams, smashing them frantically against the gates.
The gates shook as though they were about to collapse, yet they could never be broken through. Clearly, the Yuan soldiers within the city were resisting to the death as well.
"Kill, kill..."
"Kill..."
Inside and outside the city, the cries of battle never ceased.
They were filled with the most brutal killing intent in this world.
Time gradually slipped away amid this battle of attack and defense.
"Damn it."
"These cursed Yuan soldiers."
In the Ming Army's central formation, Zhao Yong watched as such a fierce offensive still failed to take the battlements, his face full of fury and unwillingness.
But after glancing