This kind of fight lasted about half an hour.
Because both sides have already tried their best and used up the last inch of strength.
At the final critical moment, he had to gradually slow down the movement output of his body.
Try to make up for even a moment of leisure, so that this tired body, which has long been dragged down, or rather a little convulsive because of excessive exertion, can be relaxed for a short time.
Everyone is trying their best to control the rhythm of their breathing, and has adapted to this change in the rhythm of the battlefield.
Now it seems that the number of people fighting is also a little sparse, which is produced by the reflection of a thin layer of blood mist on the bluestone bricks on the ground, but the only constant is the roar and furious mood of each samurai, although the dimly lit scene has been filled with so much blood that it makes those heart-deep roars especially weak in such an environment.
The dragon's groan sounded again.
As the old emperor raised his sword again and roared out the bright and ethereal command, the hidden archers at the back of the palace also quickly plucked the strings in their hands.
The string sounded so crisp that it was because it was too dark, or because they were all focused on fighting, and the people on the scene never saw its special brilliant dark red like a red flame.
The whole process was very hidden, and hundreds of arrows fell silently.
Finally, the movements in the hands of the samurai stopped.
The cold arrows full of anger and the murderous aura of the old emperor's dragon made this already empty and silent square return to its original desolate nature.
The old emperor looked at the three people who were still standing in front of him, blinked, and didn't say anything, the expression on his face was mixed with a trace of sadness.
Now that the so-called enemy has all fallen, it is clear that the glory of victory should be given to these three warriors.
Of course, the old emperor also contributed a lot.
If it weren't for the quiet hiding of the Chiyan Hanmang Army, which had been trained for many years, so that this moment might be the most important moment in his life, he suddenly appeared to save his body, then even if everyone in the world held flowers to worship the old emperor, I am afraid it would be useless.
But the people in this world don't know that at this moment, this scheming old emperor has exhausted all his vitality, and in the end, he can only leave him with a few hundred arrows.
Fortunately, the old emperor did not choose the wrong one, and this self-chosen gift, perhaps a gift that could be regarded as a blessing for him, finally saved himself.
The three warriors standing in front of him didn't say much, their faces covered in blood, tiredness, and confusion.
Although these arrows quietly saved their lives, and also saved a little face of winning more with less, and taking one as ten, the old emperor's expression was enough to prove that these arrows were not for them, but for them.
From the moment the rain of red and cold arrows fell, the three of them had already understood this truth.
The old emperor didn't deliberately want to spare the lives of the three of them, maybe he thought about it in his heart, but at most he just thought about it.
Two of the three samurai glanced at the third person, and what surprised them the most was that their robes were all bright red and bloody, and the robes behind them were also red, reflecting the dark and lonely sky, and they looked very slippery against the background of the torches that gradually burned around the square.
The two of them placed the Han Sword on the neck of the third person at the same time, which was done without asking the old emperor's consent, and it seemed to be the best move to prove their identity at this time.
There was a tear in the old emperor's eyes, but no one cared.
As the flickering torches approached around them, the two looked at each other for a moment, and with a strong hand, they were about to kill the third person.
Although the tears in his eyes blurred his vision a little, fortunately, the firelight at this time made everything in front of him come into view, and he didn't hesitate.
"Slow" The old emperor let out a trembling voice and gently raised his arm again, signaling the two of them not to kill him.
One of the young men was stunned for a moment, then glanced at the old man who had given the order with his cold eyes, and when his trembling voice had completely disappeared, he lowered his sword with the other.
The sound of horses' hooves sounded all around, and the group of horses stepped on such a bluestone slab, which was especially loud and vigorous.
"Brother!"
The young man looked around for a moment, and found the most familiar face in the group of knights very accurately, and while putting down the Han sword in his hand, he quickly ran over.
"Wu King Li Hongji has been captured, waiting for his brother to fall" The familiar face jumped off the horse, and without hesitation, he lifted the young man's body, looking at the blood stains all over his body and the residual smell of blood in his eyes, he couldn't help but be a little moved.
But in front of everyone, he just patted the young man on the shoulder, and then commanded thousands of knights to surround him.
The darkness once again hung over the palace, and scattered raindrops fell in the air, making the strong smell of blood even more steaming.
The crowd dismounted in unison and fell to their knees.
In front of them were two people.
A father and a son, an old and a young, one stood on the high imperial steps, his white beard twitching faintly.
The other stood on the blood-soaked bluestone slab in front of the temple, and the rain slid down his cheeks, making the blood-colored face, which was already difficult to see, particularly cloudy and lonely.
Gradually, the man in black standing on the bluestone slab knelt down.
Like the thousands of knights who had already knelt behind him, he knelt heavily on the bluestone slab, and the rain grew so long that it was difficult to see his cheeks or guess the expression on his face.
"Don't take this traitor down yet" After two breaths, as soon as Yan Yu's sonorous words came out, more than a dozen blue-armored warriors behind him swarmed up, pulled the man in black up, and tied an unknown number of thick hemp ropes behind him.
It seems that such an opportunity is very rare, as if his hands full of blood and evil will inevitably do very unbearable things once they are relaxed.
So much so that the binding force was so strong that the figure in black was somewhat deformed.
The old emperor closed his eyes lightly and twitched faintly.
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The surrounding fire was bright, and the clouds overhead and the rain in the wind were particularly cold.
Yan Yu stepped forward closely, his mouth was steady, his voice was melodious, and he knelt down in front of the imperial steps, "Weichen is late to escort him, I hope Your Majesty will forgive me."
Yan Yu didn't know how the old emperor on the steps would react when he heard such a voice, and he didn't know how his rebellious son would make him feel at this moment by such a bitter drama staged in front of his bedchamber.
He only felt that the bluestone slab under his knees was very cold and icy, and there was a tingling pleasure, and his legs did not know whether they were gradually lost consciousness by the atmosphere of the scene, or they were unbearable soaked by the biting rain.
In short, he was a little uneasy before the emperor in front of him could say anything.
The old emperor of "King Han" opened his eyes and looked at the young man in front of him fiercely, "Young man, you are the King of Han from today onwards"