All of a sudden, the siege began. Boom, boom, boom...
The six hundred thousand troops began charging the city walls like mad.
The Xia Kingdom experts atop the walls had formed into groups, continuously unleashing true energy and volleys of arrows to reap lives. Cries of agony rang out as Yun Province City guards were constantly knocked from the walls and smashed into pulp.
In the blink of an eye, a quarter of an hour had passed. Every officer's face had turned incomparably grim. There was simply not the slightest chance.
Fan Zhong could not help clenching his pale hands, which trembled without cease. Suddenly, he shouted at Sikong Jing, "What kind of bullshit method was that? If everyone is slaughtered in this battle, I'll hold you accountable!"
The losses were far too great. If this continued, let alone six hundred thousand—even six million would not be enough for the enemy to slaughter.
If the entire army was wiped out, he, Fan Zhong, would surely be punished. Thus, he immediately shoved the matter onto Sikong Jing.
In other words, I take the credit, and you shoulder the blame!
"Sikong Jing, what are you still standing here for? Why aren't you attacking the city?"
A second aged roar rang out. Mo Yang, at some unknown point, had become utterly invigorated.
He wanted Sikong Jing to hurry up and die—die in the siege.
Yet Sikong Jing merely shrugged and replied, "If I die, who will take the blame for Lord Fan? You, Mo Yang?"
That one sentence left Mo Yang speechless, and he hastily retreated far away.
Ignoring the old bastard and everyone else, Sikong Jing continued watching the situation at the city walls.
Time passed...
The officers and City Guard Generals from the various cities began urging Fan Zhong to withdraw