Tired from the journey, and with the nearby forest either felled or burned, Liumuer had not ordered his n to venture further to cut wood and establish a camp.
Firstly, when the wild people annexed and slaughtered each other on the snowfields, their discipline was lax to begin with. To a certain extent, their thods and patterns of warfare were still quite primitive.
The Wild People's King had served as auxiliary troops under the Earl of North Border in Beifeng Prefecture for many years. All of his top generals were "n of exceptional ability" whom he had personally selected. Therefore, the troops directly under the Wild People's King actually paid great attention to hierarchy and thods in battle.
However, the wild people's forces at the rear of the main army were assembled from major tribes that had joined later. Firstly, they had not undergone formal training. Secondly, due to the Wild People's continuous victories over the past year—first crushing the Situ Family and then defeating the Yan Army on the banks of the Wang River—they were currently in a state of overconfidence.
Even though Snow Sea Pass had been lost, in Liumuer's heart, he really didn't take these Yan people too seriously.
A virtually undefended camp, filled with clusters of tents, was like actively exposing its vulnerable underbelly for the enemy to strike.
Ablaze, Fanli charged into the wild people's camp like a "fiery bull." Though swinging his axe with both hands, he didn't focus on deliberate killing. Instead, he crashed into a tent with brutal force, then imdiately burst out and charged into the next, effectively turning himself into a mobile inferno.
Behind him, eight hundred Shengle cavalryn followed closely, using their torches to start an impromptu bonfire party for the wild people.
Screams from the wild people echoed intermittently. Caught in their sleep, none had anticipated such a move from the Yan forces. With the dead of night adding to the confusion, the camp instantly erupted into chaos.
Seeing the fire spreading and sensing the ti was right, Liang Cheng began to signal the retreat. The rest of the Shengle knights, having set their fires and sown chaos, also started to withdraw according to the prearranged plan.
The grease and oil on Fanli's armor had nearly burned out. He rolled on the ground several tis to extinguish the last embers, then, still smoking, sprinted back.
North of the wild people's camp, the knights regrouped.
Zheng Fan clenched his saber, his palms sweating slightly. When setting the fires earlier, General Zheng hadn't ventured too deep, rely throwing a torch at a tent from the periphery.
But next, he would have to charge headlong with everyone else. Only by breaking through the camp could they find safety again. Anyone who fell from their horse or was delayed for any other reason would be left to fend for themselves in the pandemonium.
Zheng Fan raised his saber,
And roared, "To pierce the lines!"
The surrounding knights shouted in unison, "Death before dishonor!"
Then, everyone began the second charge.
Unlike the first, this ti there were no reservations; they pushed their warhorses to their absolute limits.
Because they had initially set fires from the east side of the camp and were now charging from the north, it easily created the illusion among the disoriented wild people that they were "surrounded on all sides."
Liumuer was leading his personal guards, trying to rally the panicked warriors and head towards the east side of the camp where the fires had started. Unexpectedly, a cavalry troop burst in recklessly from the north.
The warhorses didn't slow. Any wild person in their path was either sent flying by the impact or trampled underhoof. The Shengle knights on horseback would then bring their sabers down; without needing to swing forcefully, simply holding the sabers out and using the montum of their charging steeds, they easily cleaved through the wild people's less-than-sturdy armor, cutting them down.
The chaos within the wild people's camp was directly intensified by this second assault. Liumuer was also unlucky; he and the hundreds of personal guards and warriors accompanying him found themselves directly in the path of the Shengle Army's charge.
At this point, evasion was impossible; they could only brace themselves and fight.
However, one side was charging fiercely, their warhorses already at full speed, while the other was scrambling to respond in panic. Thus, the mont they clashed, the situation beca starkly clear.
Many tribesn around Liumuer were instantly knocked aside and cut down. The small asure of order he had painstakingly managed to establish, intending to use these forces to stabilize and rally the entire camp, was shattered and dispersed once more by the onslaught.
At the sa ti, a warhorse charged directly at him.
His appointnt as a myriarch was certainly influenced by his tribe's prestige, but to command the tribe's forces, he had to be, at the very least, a warrior recognized by his own people. Although he had made a grave error in underestimating the enemy, Liumuer's personal strength was still comndable.
As the warhorse bore down on him, he reacted almost instinctively, sidestepping and bringing his blade down to slash the horse's legs. When the knight began to fall, Liumuer's left hand shot out, grabbed the man's armor, and yanked him from the saddle.
General Zheng never considered himself "chosen by fate."
Sotis, General Zheng's caution and prudence were so extre that even the demons whose existences were intertwined with his found it hard to watch.
But as it turned out, General Zheng's caution and prudence were entirely justified.
He truly did not possess the kind of luck that allowed one to wade through an army of thousands as if it were an empty field.
Yes, the man Liumuer had just unhorsed was Zheng Fan.
A few seconds earlier, an arrow had flown towards Zheng Fan. A Ming had shifted, shielding him from the projectile.
Because of this, the distance between them had widened slightly. Compounded by the charging warhorse's movent, this small separation, amplified by the horse's speed, instantly left A Ming unable to continue protecting his lord.
And Zheng Fan, as luck would have it, had charged right at the enemy's commander!
Liumuer had no idea that he had just caught such a big fish, nor did he believe that the man he had just unhorsed—whose armor and warhorse were indistinguishable from those of an ordinary Yan Army knight—was actually the true commander of the Yan people at Snow Sea Pass.
But that didn't stop him from imdiately trying to slice his blade across his opponent's neck, where the armor offered the least protection.
All of this transpired in the blink of an eye.
General Zheng was also decisive. The mont he felt his warhorse lurch forward and realized he was about to fall, he yelled inwardly, Mo Wan!
If there was even the slightest chance of danger, Zheng Fan would call upon Mo Wan without hesitation.
Fortunately, General Zheng hadn't hesitated in the slightest, and Mo Wan had imdiately channeled his power and consciousness into Zheng Fan's body.
So, just as Liumuer's blade was about to cut into Zheng Fan's neck, while Liumuer himself, already looking around at the broader situation, was convinced the Yan knight beneath him was incapable of any further struggle, Zheng Fan's fingers dug sharply into the mud. Then, using his arm strength, Zheng Fan ducked his whole body down, successfully evading the blow an instant before Liumuer's blade could connect.
Liumuer felt his blade et only air. As he prepared to withdraw his weapon and turn, he suddenly saw a pair of legs appear before him. Shifting his gaze downwards, he found the Yan knight he had just unhorsed and was about to kill, now facing him head-down and legs-up.
BANG!
Zheng Fan's feet locked around Liumuer's neck. Simultaneously, using his legs as a fulcrum, Zheng Fan pressed his lower body against Liumuer.
His hands clenched into fists and hamred directly into Liumuer's abdon.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Liumuer felt as if a sledgehamr were pounding him relentlessly. His eardrums throbbed with pain from the impacts, and a sweet, tallic taste began to fill his nose and mouth.
But he was, after all, a true warrior, one in ten thousand; even now, he hadn't released his grip on his blade. Despite Zheng Fan's ferocious assault, he instinctively raised his weapon to stab Zheng Fan.
THUNK!
The blade pierced Zheng Fan's armor.
With this thrust, Liumuer imdiately sensed that this Yan soldier was no ordinary man. His armor looked plain, but its internal construction definitely held so secret!
His blade was stuck. The force that should have been enough to pierce his opponent through had barely penetrated.
Zheng Fan, however, opened his mouth and let out a piercing shriek.
Suddenly, Liumuer felt a sharp pain in his head, and his vision began to darken.
This was a ntal attack from Mo Wan. At such close range, and catching Liumuer completely off guard, it took imdiate effect.
anwhile, Zheng Fan leveraged his leg strength again, righting himself from his inverted position, almost sitting on Liumuer's neck.
Just as Mo Wan (Zheng Fan) was about to seize the opportunity to twist Liumuer's neck, he saw Fanli charging towards them at a terrifying speed.
Because Fanli, when wearing his custom-made "iron can" armor, was too heavy for ordinary warhorses—only a Pixiu could bear his weight—he usually ran on foot when everyone else charged on horseback. Fortunately, his running speed and endurance were extraordinary, allowing him to keep up. He had fallen behind earlier because two wild people had briefly obstructed him.
Seeing his lord in danger, he let out a roar and charged.
ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!
Mo Wan (Zheng Fan) unleashed a series of furious roars, but Fanli simply couldn't halt his montum.
CRACK!
Zheng Fan twisted Liumuer's neck. The next mont, Fanli collided with Liumuer, sending both Liumuer and Zheng Fan flying.
BANG!
Zheng Fan slamd onto the ground. Fanli, his montum unchecked, reached out as he rushed past Zheng Fan, snatched him up, and threw him onto his own back, intending to carry his lord away as if he were a steed.
HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS...
An imdiate sensation of scorching heat washed over Zheng Fan.
ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!
Mo Wan roared. Fanli's armor had been scorched by the burning oil for quite so ti; though it might not be red-hot like a branding iron, its temperature was still incredibly high.
After a series of roars, Mo Wan decisively withdrew his consciousness and power back into the stone, allowing his "dad" to regain control and sensation of his body.
Soon, a furious curse erupted, "Damn it, it's burning to death!"
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