"One man at the gate—ten thousand cannot break through!" A Tang battle standard lies torn and ragged, half‑dev…
"One man at the gate—ten thousand cannot break through!"
A Tang battle standard lies torn and ragged, half‑devoured by war. Across the faded cloth, brown streaks of dried blood spell out the soldiers' final vow.
The setting sun burns red, staining the shattered walls of the Howling Sand Outpost and sounding the last silent beat of the war drum.
A young soldier tastes blood rising in his throat, unable to speak another word.
Yet he holds fast to his oath. Like the desert poplar, he will stand unbending for a hundred years.