"Fang Chen seemed to see in that very instant all the suffering of all living beings, countless souls living as if in a sea of fire, unable to find peace for even a single moment.
In the blink of an eye, he saw a familiar mountain once more.
Three Realms Mountain.
He saw familiar faces, including his own, dressed in silver armor stained crimson with blood, flanked by hundreds of thousands of soldiers fighting valiantly behind him.
One figure after another fell; one figure after another charged forward unflinchingly.
The yellow earth was stained crimson with blood.
Young, pale faces resolute unto death.
'Li Wei, only an aged mother remains at home, day and night praying for his return.'
'Han Cheng, with three younger brothers and a younger sister; the sister is now married and her husband treats her well, but he will never get to taste the wine at her wedding banquet.'
'Xu Yan, who loved to chat—the soldiers in the same tent could not bear it and begged for mercy, but now he can never speak again.'
'Man Hu, born in the southern lands, wandering as a refugee to the northern lands since childhood, only getting a full meal once he joined the army; as he drew his last breath, he still clutched an unfinished steamed bun against his chest.'
Before he knew it, Fang Chen's face was covered in tears.
Every single one of these figures had died in battle to protect Daxia.
They were so young; if they had not entered the army, they would have had an abundance of youth to squander.
Yet th…
Chapter 125