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Yan Yun still wanted to struggle, but when he tried to grab the sword on the ground, he was kicked away. Yan Yu held the snake spear and stabbed it even deeper into his chest. With a fierce spin, his skin and flesh were all twisted into a ball.

Yan Yun's pupils constricted. He was in so much pain that his mind was in a mess.

He spat out a mouthful of blood.

He was at the end of his road, not far from death. Yan Yu's stab was just in time, hitting the tip of his heart.

Yan Yu straightened his body, stepped on his shoulder and asked with a cold and cruel tone, "Have you ever thought that this day would come?"

When he had cruelly killed Madame Song and Li Xiqing, when he had threatened him with Xie Zhen, when he had shot through Gao Xun with ten thousand arrows, had he thought of his own fate?

The cycle of karmic retribution.

Yan Yu clenched his serpent spear. After exiting his body, blood splattered all over the ground, but he didn't even blink, "It doesn't matter if you don't think of it, you can give it a try today." With that, she gave him a final look, and with a tone nearly filled with pity, she said, "Go and apologize to Father, Mother, and Gao Xun."

Yan Yun was already with him. The moment he had thrown out the snake spear, his entire body had convulsed in pain. He had heard his words and was terrified, but most of all, he was filled with hatred.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the youth that was so unremarkable would become what he was today. Initially, he looked down on him and thought that he was just a mediocre talent raised by a pair of commoners. He did not even put him in his eyes. Even after killing his parents, he never had the heart to repent. However, he didn't expect that the thin and weak youth from before would have such a decisive and decisive battle with a heaven-shattering man who wielded a heavy weapon. He had stabbed him with his own hands and had dealt him the heaviest blow.

All these years of scheming and scheming had all been for naught.

Yan Yun rolled his eyes, how could he be willing ...

Yan Yu got on his horse, turned around and walked back into the army, and ordered the archers who were already standing in a row: "Shoot, no one is to be lenient!"

The archers received the order and each of them skillfully nocked their arrows.

Just as Yan Yun stood up, an arrow pierced her leg, causing her body to soften and fall back down.

Arrows rained down like rain, and behind them, the screams of the soldiers could be heard. Blood spilled all over the ground, and grief filled the air. It was already a miracle that he had been able to withstand so many arrow wounds on his body and that fatal blow to his heart. Now that he had been defeated, the soldiers either fled or perished. Beside him were countless corpses lying in a pool of blood, unwilling to give up.

After the First Prince's death, his soldiers had naturally become Yan Yu's captives.

There were more than ten thousand prisoners, the majority of whom were strong men that the First Prince had forcefully recruited while he was still alive. No one wanted to kill each other. However, no one could do anything on the battlefield. They could only brace themselves and advance forward. Yan Yu did not punish them severely, he only tortured them with ink on the bodies of the hundreds of officers leading them. The word "Jing" was stuck on their backs. Once it was stained with ink, they would never be able to wash it off in their entire lives.

"Jing" represented the Da Jing, indicating that they would always be the citizens of the Da Jing.

This was already the lightest form of criminal punishment.

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