Who Wins the Championship?

Troubled times are like a melting pot. You came through time and again, full of strategies but failed repeatedly. In the tempering of blood and fire, you put aside illusions, integrate ancient and modern wisdom, and deal with the heroes. From complete defeat to the surrender of people's hearts, the torrent you set off will eventually cleanse the world and rebuild the world. However, when the flames of war have cleared and all the people are happy, you stand before the dawn of a new era, but you are faced with the loneliest question: You have smashed all the crowns with your own hands. How should your achievements be defined in this world? The east is white, and the morning glow is soaked in stratus clouds. You finally walked on the morning dew from the high slope of the loess, your clothes were dyed gold, and your steps were windy. You raise your hand to brush away the last mist in the mountains, and the thousands of ravines behind you are instantly filled with dawn. Who wins this attack? Now that the history books have been written, why not rewrite them? I am the embodiment of the people!