The setting sun hung low in the west, its dying rays resembling fresh blood.
Corpses littered the battlefield, and blood flowed like rivers across the ground.
More than half of the two hundred thousand Imperial Army soldiers were lost.
Of the fifty thousand elite Imperial Guards, barely over twenty thousand remained; of the ten thousand Heavy Cavalry, fewer than three thousand rode back alive.
Ten thousand Light Cavalry suffered over fifty percent casualties, while the one hundred fifty thousand Prefecture Soldiers fared even worse, with barely three in ten surviving.
Li Siyi sat astride his war horse, gazing out over this Asura Field, remaining silent for a long time.
His eyes looked weary and aged, as if he had suddenly aged a decade all at once.
"Commander." The Deputy General cautiously stepped closer. "The rebel army has retreated, and our army has won a great victory. Would you like to return to the camp to rest first?"
Li Siyi did not answer.
He simply stared toward the south, gazing at the plains stained crimson by blood and watching the soldiers search through the piles of corpses for their fallen comrades.
"A great victory?" he muttered, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible. "You call this a great victory?"
The Deputy General opened his mouth, unable to utter a word.
Li Siyi closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. The air was thick with the stench of blood, so heavy it could not be dissolved.
"Pass down the order," he began slowly, his voice weary and aged:
"Gather the troops, treat the wounded, and tally the battle losses.
Send men back to the capital to report the victory... tell them our army crushed Huang Chao, severed one hundred thousand heads, and captured countless prisoners."
"Understood!" The Deputy General acknowledged