The Fall of the Four Saints

The night vanished in a blink. At dawn the next day, daylight broke over the horizon.

War drums thundered through the Shang Army camp. The Four Sages of Nine Dragon Island donned their armor and took the field, each summoning the strange beast he rode. Four torrents of savage qi shot straight into the clouds.

Wang Mo rode a suanni with a tiger's head, a lion's body, and red-gold scales. Black mist billowed from its jaws.

Yang Sen sat astride Bi'an, whose body was covered in green scales and whose fangs jutted past its cheeks. A soul-locking chill followed it wherever it went.

Gao Youqian rode a spotted leopard that chased the wind, trod upon mist, and crushed stone beneath its claws.

Li Xingba rode a fearsome xiezhi. Its eyes discerned right from wrong, and its oppressive presence weighed heavily on all who faced it.

All four were extraordinary beasts of Dragon Clan blood. Their savage qi preyed upon mortal warhorses and flesh-and-blood soldiers alike.

The Four Saints rode abreast, bringing Zhang Guifang out to challenge the enemy. Their voices swept over Western Qi's walls: "Rebels of Western Qi, open your gates and submit! Jiang Ziya, Nezha, come out and die!"

Civil and military officials climbed the walls to look out. At the sight of the four beasts, countless Zhou Army horses below went weak at the knees. They whinnied in terror; many collapsed outright, trembling. The troops' morale wavered at once.

Jiang Ziya frowned, a chill settling in his heart.

After years of cultivation, he recognized the four as extraordinary Dragon Clan beasts. They naturally subdued ordinary livestock, and their savage qi even suppressed the souls of mortal soldiers.

"So these four were behind yesterday's defeat after all." Huang Feihu gripped the sword at his waist, his face grave.