The 100000 troops outside the city called for battle, and people were panic stricken. It was almost two days since the news came out, and I don't know if the LORD had received it. In the dusk, young marshal who left the wall, red scarves like fire, the head under the silver helmet firmly looked at the distance, straight figure into the setting sun behind the mountain. He looked coldly at the noisy army under the city, as cold as a lifeless sculpture. Deep and sharp sword eyes, tight and sharp lips. The once childish white face has been sharpened by war and suffering. It's like a thousand hammers tempered...