"Wheeze"
"Wheeze"
His breathing grew more and more labored.
The black armor covering his body was battered beyond recognition, and his flesh was a bloody mess.
One arm had already been severed halfway through at the elbow, fresh blood gushing from the stump like a spring.
His eyes were veiled in a haze of blood. Through the wolf-helmet mask stained with blood and scraps of flesh, his gaze gave off a savage, vicious air.
The leader of the Wolf Cavalry, clad in black armor and wearing a wolf helmet, gripped his horse-slaying saber tightly in his remaining hand. The long, broad blade was plunged deep into the black earth, barely supporting his tottering body.
His chest heaved violently. Every breath tugged at the countless wounds across it, sending streams of blood surging up his throat. His internal organs had also suffered severe injuries. Even an immortal would probably be unable to save him.
Every brother behind him had died. Of the hundred Wolf Cavalry soldiers, he was the only one still standing—and even that barely counted as being alive.
If a state like this could still be called living.
He did not want to fall. He did not want to fall before his enemies.
As long as he still had a breath left, he absolutely would not allow such a thing to happen.
He glared viciously at Cui Jian, Yan Xiangma, and the few remaining Supervision Historians standing across from him.
Cui Jian and Yan Xiangma wore looks of astonishment, as if they had seen a ghost.
The few Supervision Historians had trembling legs and were still trapped in the nightmare-like slaughter from moments ago.
Cui Jian looked at the corpses strewn across the ground, glared maliciously at the Wolf Cavalry leader, and said coldly, "I'm impressed, truly impressed. The