The Demon Lords-Chapter 645 - 115: Heroes Exhausted by the Waves_2

Deng Jiuru, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, quickly saw Yan Army soldiers continually being pushed into the water behind him. They were all clad in armor; even if there happened to be strong swimmers among them, they would inevitably drown, weighed down by their mail.

Deng Jiuru stood with his mouth agape. His lips, which he had bitten himself, showed several bloody cuts, and his gaze started to become somewhat blank.

The wild people continued their onslaught, growing more and more savage. The collapse of the Yan Army's ranks was accelerating.

Gradually, soldiers started turning and running towards the river. Some had already begun removing their armor in hopes of swimming across. The army's morale instantly dissipated.

Fleeing, escaping, retreating—these thoughts consumed most of the soldiers. Though they knew the river lay behind them, the already routed soldiers had lost the courage to continue fighting the enemy. They would rather face being swallowed by the river, gambling on that slim chance of survival, than turn back to fight the wild people.

Deng Jiuru gasped for air. The screams and battle cries around him seemed to fade, as though he was completely cut off from the battlefield.

Group after group of Yan soldiers either jumped in willingly or were driven into the river. In no time, the river was teeming with struggling men—countless heads and flailing arms. Soon, a dense mass of corpses began to appear on the water's surface.

On the Chu State warships, the Chu people laughed as they shot the Yan Army soldiers in the river with their bows and crossbows. To them, this was no longer a battle but a form of entertainment.

The black Dragon banner once made the entire East tremble.

But now...

They were nothing but pitiable playthings, pigs floundering in the water.

Sailors on the Chu warships began to sing folk songs from the Chu region. The scene filled them with exhilaration and unrestrained joy. Coupled with the wails and screams of the Yan people on the river, it sounded almost like a sweet melody, tingling their very souls.

"Haha! Yan people, is this all you amount to?!"

Deng Jiuru opened his mouth wide, trying to scream, but his voice was completely hoarse. His throat was filled with the taste of blood.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

Those in the river... they were the soldiers of Yan, the sons of Yan! He had brought them across the river, but now, he was unable to take them back.

This isn't real! This can't be real!

For a hundred years, when had the Yan people ever suffered such a terrible defeat!

No, even in hundreds of years, even when defeated, the Yan people always faced forward, falling forward in death! When had they ever been so utterly routed, so disheveled?

But this time, under his command, this... this happened!

Tears streamed down Deng Jiuru's face, his heart filled with humiliation, fury, and bewilderment. The old general seemed as if possessed by despair.

For hundreds of years... and now, under his command, the Yan people had lost their inherent pride! It was his fault, his incompetence, his unforgivable failure!

Family legacy, his grandson seizing the throne, the disputes in the court... compared to the scene unfolding before his eyes, it was all a joke!

"General, we will escort you and break through!"

The Deng Family's personal guards gathered around Deng Jiuru. The vast river behind them was impassable; truly impassable. So, they resolved to fight to the death to escort Deng Jiuru out. Even if they couldn't cross the river immediately, if they could just break out and hide, there would still be a chance of survival!

Deng Jiuru violently pushed away his loyal guards.

At this moment, with no hair or beard, his face didn't look disheveled in the conventional sense, but the hysteria in his eyes was starkly clear.

"I am the commander of the Left Army! I will not retreat!!!"

Deng Jiuru raised his battle flag again.

"I am a member of the Deng Family! I will not retreat!!!"

The battle flag continued to wave.

"I am the Imperial Father-in-Law! I will not retreat!!!"

The wild people began to break through. The Deng Family guards engaged in fierce combat with the surrounding wild people.

The old general was aged. An aging warrior's vitality wanes. Even though he had been a formidable fighter in the army during his youth, at this age, it was incredibly difficult to summon the vitality to fight any longer.

He leaned on the battle flag, gazing fixedly ahead.

The Deng Family guards were falling one by one.

At this moment, his own advanced age became Deng Jiuru's greatest source of frustration.

A commander of an army didn't necessarily need to be a high-grade warrior like Tian Wujing. Like the Earl of North Border, one could still command large armies to conquer cities and strongholds with ease, even with a smile.

But how Deng Jiuru wished he could be younger! If he were still in his youth, if his vitality hadn't declined so drastically, he could have slain a few more wild people, taking them down with him!

SWOOSH!

An arrow struck Deng Jiuru in the chest.

Leaning on the general's standard, Deng Jiuru sank to one knee. His right hand gripped the flagpole, while his left clutched the arrow embedded in his chest. Blood continuously oozed from his mouth.

A dark figure, having instantly killed several Deng Family guards, appeared before Deng Jiuru. It was Sang Hu, the chief general of the Wild People King's personal army.

Sang Hu, too, was covered in wounds, some so deep that bone was visible. But he was the one laughing now; victory was his!

He reached the Yan commander first and, like a shaman performing a rite, intoned, "By the stars above, if you are willing to surrender, you shall be granted their warm radiance."

This was an offer of surrender—a condescending one, delivered with the full display of a victor's arrogance. Rather than truly seeking surrender, it was more an opportunity for Sang Hu to satisfy his own psychological needs.

Look, the high-and-mighty Yan general is kneeling at my feet. He will beg for my mercy; he will plead for my forgiveness!

Deng Jiuru's lips stretched into a grimace. At this moment, using all his remaining strength, he said, "One day, the iron cavalry of my Great Yan will sweep across the snow plains..."

Sang Hu's gaze darkened.

"The wild people... will be annihilated!"

Deng Jiuru roared out these last words.

At the same time, before Sang Hu could make a move, Deng Jiuru gripped the arrow in his chest and plunged it deeper.

SQUELCH!

Sang Hu had just raised his hand, not yet bringing it down, when the old general took his own life before him.

Even in death, his body remained kneeling, propped up by the general's standard, unyielding.

"Heh."

BANG!

Sang Hu kicked the old general's corpse over.

He squatted down, brought his mouth close to the old general's ear, and whispered, "On the snow plains, only tribes facing annihilation utter such pale and useless curses in their desperation."

Finished speaking, as if still not quite satisfied, he added, "The Holy Tribe shall greatly prosper!"

Now, on the river, the songs of the Chu people drifted with the wind, while on its surface, the bodies of the Yan people flowed downstream.