In an instant, dust billowed and smoke spread thickly.
The narrow pass fell into a deathly silence.
The cavalrymen of the Northern Frontier Army's Vanguard Camp reined in one after another, staring wide-eyed toward the direction where the dust and smoke churned.
They had seen that scene clearly.
The mighty Xiao Jin, Grand General Who Pacified the North—the Xiao Jin who wielded the Demon Blade at the Peak Organ Tempering stage—had been sent flying, man and horse together, by a single punch from a youth barely in his twenties.
That Black Steed had followed Xiao Jin for twelve years. It had never retreated half a step from a charge, yet now it lay among the broken stones, blood spilling from its nose and mouth as its four limbs spasmed.
The deputy generals behind them had gone deathly pale. Some subconsciously clenched their sword hilts, while others worked their throats up and down without managing to make a sound.
The formation of Thirty Thousand Cavalry had erupted into visible unrest for the first time.
Their own grand general had fallen.
The cavalry at the front reined in and refused to advance, while those in the rear could not hear any orders and had no idea whether to move forward or retreat.
In the space of a few short breaths, the entire battle line had gone from crushing dominance to paralysis.
Inside the pass, Daoist Fencang was half leaning on Su Qinghan's support. He stared at the golden figure amid the dust and smoke, shock filling his flushed face.
He had just watched the Chiyan Coiled Dragon Armor—armor he had worn for three years without ever daring to activate at full strength—operate on that youth as freely as an ordinary robe.
When the armor absorbed his essence, energy, and spirit, it had