In that short span of time, his lifespan had directly increased by more than three million years. This time, Qin Yue had truly presented Zhao Cheng with an incomparably generous gift.
If Qin Yue had known what was good for him and chosen to open the city gates and surrender early on, Zhao Cheng might truly have been willing to spare his life.
Sadly, he was far too blind to the times, and in the end, he had fallen into this irredeemable fate.
Zhao Cheng stood with his hands behind his back, quietly upon this battlefield carpeted with corpses. His gaze was distant as he looked toward the inner city, a trace of barely perceptible chill in his eyes.
Just then, an extremely muffled cry of alarm came from a corner not far behind him, breaking the battlefield's brief silence.
The cry had come from a Yan army scout.
One incense-stick's time earlier, having received no news from the outer city for far too long, Qin Yue had been overcome with anxiety and dispatched another group of scouts to travel through the city's secret tunnels and investigate the battle.
This scout was one of them. He made his way through the narrow, dim tunnel and finally reached the exit into the outer city.
He pricked up his ears and listened. The earth-shaking sounds of slaughter from before had already vanished outside, and he could not help letting out a breath of relief.
So he cautiously shifted aside the cover over the tunnel. Before he could even poke his head out to inspect the situation, a stream of warm, viscous blood surged down through the gap, instantly drenching his head and face.
The sudden turn of events left him frozen on the spot. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and after