The enemy army, long since on the Verge of Collapse, heard the retreating horn and instantly fell back with a boom, like the tide receding.
Chen Fei still stood with spear in hand, standing in the center of a battlefield paved with corpses and blood. The Spear Tip of the Point Steel Spear in his hand was still slowly dripping sticky blood, sending tiny ripples through the Blood Pool Beneath His Feet.
Chen Fei slowly raised his head. No joy or anger could be seen on his bloodstained face, only calm. His gaze passed over the corpses strewn across the ground and looked toward the direction of the fleeing Enemy Army, yet it also seemed to pierce through this mountain of corpses and sea of blood, gazing into the deeper void of this illusion.
The Silver Armored General, Lu Shaoyuan, sat high upon his black warhorse, his expression so dark it nearly dripped water.
He stared fixedly at the figure standing with spear in hand at the edge of the distant cliff, hundreds of corpses sprawled Beneath His Feet. Shock and Anger churned in his chest, disbelief, and a trace of chill even he himself was unwilling to examine too deeply.
Elite armored soldiers, further aided by a strict Military Formation, Was Actually slaughtered by one man and one spear until corpses lay strewn across the field, morale collapsed, and they were forced to sound the gong and withdraw.
This Chen Fei... was he human or ghost?
Lu Shaoyuan had fought on battlefields for more than twenty years. He prided himself on having seen countless fierce generals and hardened soldiers, and he had also heard the legends passed down through the army about peerless warriors, but something like what stood before him now was unheard of.
This had completely exceeded