The Decisive Battle Begins, A Bloody Prelude

Blood-red smoke still churned above Western Ridge, like a thoroughly scorched rag hanging amid the low clouds. Chen Wuya stared at that smear of red. The gash in his palm was forced open by Misaligned Force, blood seeping through his fingers and sliding down to his wrist, drop by drop striking the sandy ground.

He did not move again.

Three breaths later, he abruptly raised his hand. His short blade left its sheath and cleaved into the earth before his feet.

Boom—

A ring of ripples burst across the ground, the surging force driving forward like a tide. The foreign soldiers who had just stabilized their formation instantly staggered; some had their knees buckle and dropped straight to the ground, while even the archers in the rear had their drawn hands tremble for half a beat.

"Allied army!" He leaped onto the broken stump of a bannerpole, his voice tearing through the wind. "Crush the Eastern Plains—blood shall not return to the blade!"

Before his words fell, he had already plunged down.

Just as the first row of shieldbearers tried to close ranks, Chen Wuya had slipped into the gap. When his left foot struck the ground, he deliberately applied force at a crooked angle, his right shoulder sinking as though he might topple at any moment. Yet the instant the enemy soldiers thrust their spears at him, he twisted at the waist. Misaligned Force shot up from his tailbone, and using the ground's rebounding force, he slapped both palms against the shields on either side.

[Error Rationalization: Palm force deflected → resonance effect triggered, determination successful]

The two heavy shields seemed to have been struck from the side by iron hammers, sending their wielders rolling and crashing into the rear ranks. The gap in the formation abruptly