Chapter 1 The Pressure of Que Mu

Que Mu's pressure was immense, not only reflected in his kneeling posture, but even more so in the almost suffocating, overwhelming force that Tian Wu Jing exerted upon him.

Tian Wu Jing was like a massive mountain, crushing him into the dust from the outset.

But in the next moment,

The mountain dissipated, transforming into clouds and rain.

The Kunwu Blade flipped, lightning turned to dew, and the earth dragon twisted into a green snake. The blade hooked sideways, pulling backward.

Que Mu, caught between the exhaustion of old energy and the lack of new, felt his arms swell. In an instant, his wolf-tooth club had been pulled away by Tian Wu Jing's blade.

The previous strike was like a crashing wave against the shore, while this hook was like the dying moon in the morning breeze.

Between the extremes of hardness and softness, Que Mu felt like a lamb, his hide and flesh expertly tended to.

Despite being a clash between commanding generals, it had turned into an extremely clear scene of one side acting leisurely while the other struggled to cope.

"Roar!"

Que Mu roared. He thrust his knees upward and threw himself backward. This was a wise choice, not an escape, but to avoid the miserable fate of being slaughtered by Tian Wu Jing's next strike.

The barbarian warriors behind Que Mu were shocked to see their leader directly forced back by the enemy general. However, they still charged forward with extreme bravery. Firstly, their momentum was already established, making it impossible to turn back; secondly, everyone knew that even the most powerful being would become incredibly fragile in the chaos of the battlefield, easily perishing.

However, the Jingnan Army knights behind Tian Wu Jing had also charged in from both sides. They skillfully avoided the enemy's horizontal slashes with their horsemanship, and then used the length of their spears to directly pierce their opponents.

The knights following behind appeared incredibly light and agile on their warhorses. Even clad in armor, they remained nimble in their movements on horseback.

Li Fusheng had once said that the essence of war lay in "strong soldiers and sturdy horses." This was a simplification, but within certain limits, it was very true.

These barbarians' archery and horsemanship might not be as good as the Manren (Barbarians), but they were not bad. It was just that they might only have a few dozen sets of armor, and ordinary people, let alone wearing armor, might only have the chance to touch the armor of the nobles in the clan when helping them with work, even if that armor was already old.

This was the gap in generations…

When the Yan's elite cavalry had long become familiar with using the width, thickness, length, and hardness of their armor and weaponry to enhance their advantages in battle, the barbarians often didn't even have a decent set of armor.

The two sides' formations collided completely at this moment. Countless people fell from their horses, and countless others were pierced by weapons. Blood became the cheapest decoration.

Tian Wu Jing did not continue to pursue Que Mu, at least not intentionally. Under the Kunwu Blade, one barbarian warrior after another was cut down, none of whom could get close to him.

He seemed to have let Que Mu go.

But more precisely,

He didn't think that the death or survival of the enemy general would have any impact on the outcome of the battle.

Zheng Fan, on the other hand, looked quite battered. When charging into battle, fighting side by side on horseback was actually better. Relying on his seventh-rank martial artist cultivation, he could handle it with relative ease. What he feared was the kind of attack that came from some corner, taking advantage of the momentum of the horse to deliver a slash or a stab. Even a master could be killed by such an ambush if they weren't careful.

However, in this chaotic environment, he was still able to pay attention to these things. While fighting the barbarians in front of him, he even had the leisure to pay attention to his surroundings. Zheng, the city guard, felt that he had truly been tempered on the battlefield.

The Magic Pill (魔丸 mó wán) was also constantly adjusting its direction inside the armor. After several consecutive advancements, regardless of his true feelings, at least at this stage, the father and son were in their honeymoon period.

Therefore, the Magic Pill was also extremely concerned about his father not having any accidents. In the past, the Magic Pill was very calm, because Zheng Fan always had a group of Demon Kings deliberately protecting him on the battlefield, especially A'Ming, who shared a lot of things for him.

But now that A'Ming was gone, and the other Demon Kings were not around, the Magic Pill could only bear all the burdens for his father.

The collision between the two sides didn't really result in a clear victory or defeat at the beginning, but in other words, the outcome had already been decided.

Because Tian Wu Jing's central army, with only four thousand cavalry, had directly charged into the battle with nearly ten thousand barbarian cavalry, and didn't fall into a disadvantage.

At this time, the cavalry on both flanks directly penetrated the battlefield, and Liang Cheng, as the rear army, also seized the opportunity, leading his troops to rush into the battle at the most appropriate time.

Human power has its limits. These barbarian warriors were undeniably brave, but after their flanks were cut off and the enemy's rear army charged forward again, no amount of bravery could reverse the rapid shift in the battlefield situation.

Many barbarian warriors were only accustomed to the tribal conflicts of the past. Everyone would gather the warriors of their own clan and alliance, charge at each other, and the winner would take all. At most, they would use night attacks or encirclements, which anyone who had ever fought a battle would know.

But in more specific and detailed terms, for the battlefield, true segmentation and refinement, even if they could understand and comprehend it, they couldn't do it.

When the barbarian warriors discovered that the tribesmen and partners beside them were being picked off one after another, and that they were surrounded by Yan cavalry charging in all directions, a feeling called fear and bewilderment began to suppress their courage, gradually filling their hearts completely.

Not many collapsed, and not many fled, but being cut into scattered pieces and continuously attacked by the organized Yan army, their so-called resistance was truly too pale.

Que Mu, who had been knocked off his horse by the Marquis of Jingnan, had just picked up a knife and was preparing to rejoin the fight when he keenly sensed the unfavorable situation on the battlefield.

This was a feeling he had never experienced before. In the past, when fighting the Jin people, the Sima family's soldiers were fierce, but they couldn't achieve such precision.

For a long time, in Que Mu's eyes, the difference between the Jin people's army (the Sima family) and his own barbarian army was only that they had better equipment and more people.

And indeed, when the number of barbarians increased under the leadership of the king, and they obtained more and more armor through capture and their own manufacturing, they began to defeat the Jin people's army.

However, this army in front of him was the one that had once traveled thousands of miles in ten days and annihilated six hundred thousand Jin troops. Being able to move freely on a battlefield of thousands of miles, it was no exaggeration to say that they could dissect the situation like a skilled butcher carving an ox.

Que Mu's knife knocked down a Yan cavalryman's horse, and then he beheaded the Yan soldier who fell, the Yan's blood splattering on Que Mu's face, but he didn't feel any joy.

He raised his head,

Somewhat blankly looking at everything around him, how could they have been defeated so quickly?

Yes, how could they have been defeated so quickly?

This was the question in the hearts of many barbarians. They were clearly fighting with all their might, their hearts were still burning with passion, but they couldn't stop the collapse.

Many of these barbarians didn't want to escape, nor did they want to rout. They were simply trapped in this suffocating battle, and like drowning people, they instinctively wanted to break free and breathe a breath of fresh air.

First scatter,

And then,

What was unavoidable was defeat.

The balance of victory had completely tilted, and the spread of this despairing emotion made every living barbarian feel extremely tormented.

Angda's left arm had been cut off, but he was still fighting desperately. He could feel that his comrades-in-arms were becoming fewer and fewer, and the situation was getting worse and worse.

In an instant,

Angda saw that gilded figure,

He gritted his teeth and spurred his already exhausted horse towards that figure.

Was he going to kill that person,

Or was he begging that person to kill him?

Angda himself didn't know.

Just now, before the start of the battle, he had said to Que Mu that if they could avoid fighting, it would be best not to fight;

The current result had already proven his prediction. The Yan cavalry was still so powerful, but Angda didn't feel any joy in his correct prediction, only bitterness.

He didn't reach Tian Wu Jing.

Tian Wu Jing had already sheathed his blade,

Calmly watching everything around him, like an artist admiring his newly completed oil painting.

"Bang!"

A figure flew over and knocked Angda off his horse.

Angda's knife was also parried away,

But in an instant, he pulled out a dagger from his chest.

Right now, he was probably only thinking that even if he died, he had to die giving his all.

However, a stone flew out from the chest of the Yan soldier who had tackled him, directly hitting his wrist, and the dagger fell.

The Yan soldier raised his knife with both hands,

In a very ritualistic manner,

He directly nailed the blade into Angda's chest.

At such close range, even if Angda was wearing armor, it was almost useless.

"Pu!"

Angda's body trembled,

His eyes widened, and blood kept flowing from the corners of his mouth.

He didn't look at what the Yan person who killed him looked like,

His gaze wandered around,

Until,

He saw the black dragon flag. The flag was still flying.

They had once been followers under this flag, and students under this flag,

But what was despairing was that,

When the student returned after completing his studies, just as he was about to achieve his own results, the teacher suddenly arrived to completely bury the former student.

The light in Angda's eyes slowly dimmed, until it completely lost its luster.

Zheng Fan gasped for breath,

Getting off Angda,

At this time,

He didn't forget to turn his head to look at the Marquis of Jingnan not far away from him,

And the Marquis of Jingnan,

Was looking at the scenery.