Master Head of the Dragon Soul

Chapter 825 Jiang Wanjun, You Go To Hell!

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Sensing Jiang Wanjun's unwavering determination towards death, the warhorse beneath him let out a long howl, thundering like a lightning bolt as it charged towards the Donghua camp.

Jiang Wanjun's plain knife swept horizontally, each move executed with grandeur, a force like thunder.

Dozens of soldiers attempted to intercept him, their long knives falling collectively with a crisp sound...

Despite being attacked and surrounded by dozens of shields, he urged his horse to charge forth, scattering them in disarray...

Hundreds of arrows were released like a torrential rain, yet he effortlessly swept through them...

"Step back!" Chu Feng waved off the Dragon Soul Army that intended to surround him, facing the charging Jiang Wanjun with a lone spear, rushing headlong.

"Haha, fight me!" Jiang Wanjun's boldness surged as he roared, and his plain knife descended directly without any retreat.

Boom!

The clash of blades and spears echoed, and the two had already exchanged blows for at least ten moves in an instant. Sparks flew, resembling a scene of war with blazing fires.

Both were seasoned warriors with extensive battlefield experience. While their moves might not be as flashy and dazzling as those in movies, they were highly lethal, filled with vigor, and extremely

awe-inspiring. The sight sent shivers down the spines of onlookers, stirring their blood with excitement.

The battle between Chu Feng and Jiang Wanjun continued, and ten minutes later, after hundreds of exchanges, Jiang Wanjun's stamina couldn't keep up with his charges. Wounds crisscrossed his body, sharp spear tips penetrating his arms and thighs.

Jiang Wanjun, with his white hair scattered, faced death fearlessly, never taking a step back.

Tragic, awe-inspiring, and profoundly respectable!

Neigh!

With a long and resounding neigh, Jiang Wanjun's warhorse collapsed thunderously beneath him, succumbing to exhaustion.

Thud!

Simultaneously, the cold radiance of Chu Feng's spear arrived, a force like a thousand pounds piercing directly through Jiang Wanjun's heart.

"Mr. Jiang!"

"Wargod!"

Xiahou Jun, Jiang Wanjun's disciples, and the soldiers in the Xi Xia army all exclaimed.

Even in the face of overwhelming defeat, surrounded on all sides, and with no hope of victory, Jiang Wanjun didn't run, didn't surrender, and didn't flinch.

An old horse, a plain knife, an elderly man fought fiercely until the very end, until the last second of his life.

Pfft!

Jiang Wanjun spat out a jet of blood as he sensed his life slipping away gradually, and the world before his eyes became increasingly blurry.

Past memories flashed before his eyes, scenes passing like a film. He saw himself joining the army at a young age, a spirited youth bowing at the village head, bidding farewell to his parents, resolutely joining the military...

He witnessed his wedding night, candlelight flickering, the tender shyness in the eyes of his beloved wife...

He witnessed returning defeated, only a dozen or so surviving brothers huddled together, crying in grief...

The final scene depicted a mature man, weathered by experience, with sharp eyes and a military uniform, cheered by thousands as he ascended the stage, received the seal from the Six Nations, and bowed as the Wargod of the Six Nations!

A peerless figure, a hero of his time. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

At this moment, Jiang Wanjun's eyes turned into a murky blackness, and all consciousness came to an abrupt halt.

Clang!

The plain knife in his hand was suddenly wedged straight into the yellow sand, supporting his body, never falling down.

His life began and ended in battles. Even in death, he stood proudly under the vast sky, on the yellow soil, upright and honorable.

Chu Feng waved his hand. "Bring me wine!"

Taking a jug of Xi Feng Liquor, he poured it all into the yellow soil beneath his feet, his gaze filled with reverence. "I, Chu Feng of Donghua, pay my respects to Jiang Wanjun, the God of War."

Whoosh…