White Horse Might

Everyone had the instinct to survive. Qu Yi, however, was one of those lunatics with a heart set on dying.

Having fought his way from an ordinary soldier to a high-ranking officer in the Xiliang Army, Qu Yi had battled in over a hundred large and small engagements. In the end, he had summed it up with one point: on the battlefield, the more afraid you were of dying, the more likely you were to die!

The more you feared death, the more certainly you died. If you simply abandoned defense on the battlefield and focused on killing like mad, until you looked as though you had been soaked in blood from head to toe, the enemy would lose their nerve at the sight of you and naturally wouldn't dare approach. Then you wouldn't die!

Later, the soldiers under Qu Yi gradually became more and more like him. The moment they entered battle, their eyes would turn bloodshot, with nothing but slaughter in them. If you swung a blade at them, they swung one back. Whoever dodged first would die!

More often than not, the ones who survived in the end were his subordinates. This army was the fiercest in the Xiliang Army, but lunatics like them were few and far between, so Qu Yi had never had many men under his command.

Of course, that was also related to the fact that he led infantry.

At that moment, on the battlefield, Qu Yi was leading three thousand Death Warriors clad in light armor, long blades hanging from their waists and bows in their hands. They stood behind the infantry led by Zhang He and Gao Gan, waiting for the right moment.

The Death Warriors did not use crossbows, but bows—heavy bows.

After all, this world was different. Every one