Until Dongfang Gan was pierced through the chest by an arrow, the tens of thousands of soldiers still hadn't reacted.
In everyone's eyes, if only his sword had been a little faster, then the one who should have fallen would have been the great general, his arm severed in the wind.
But that arrow had been too fast—so fast that Dongfang Gan's sword could not be even half as quick.
The blood-soaked great general swung his sword backhanded, severing the spirit sword in Dongfang Gan's hand before laying his own blade against his neck.
Even with countless fine sword cuts across his body, Qin Wentian still hadn't fallen. His severed arm dropped into the dust, and he didn't even glance at it.
Instead, he quietly looked at the strategist who had followed him for more than a decade.
Likewise, Dongfang Gan felt the great general's sword intent... Nalan Xiongfeng, fallen into the dust with his breastbone shattered, had clearly been a match for the great general and could no longer swing his sword to save Dongfang Gan's life.
"Why?"
Qin Wentian's voice trembled slightly. His blue robe was stained red, and blood kept dripping onto the ground.
Blood gushed from the stump of his arm like a spring.
Just as that arrow had flown through the wind, Hua Mantian had already ordered his men to lower the drawbridge... Dozens of armored soldiers charged across the moat.
Two personal guards immediately caught the great general and staunched the bleeding from his severed arm.
Feeling his life rapidly slipping away, Dongfang Gan wore a bitter expression.
He murmured, "Why? You're nothing but a general abandoned by His Majesty..."
"Impudent!"
Qin Wentian snapped coldly, "Until His Majesty's body is found, that someone in the palace can forget about ascending the throne!"
"You're thinking