Dusk hung heavy as night blanketed the wilderness of Mengjin.
Though Wu Wenhua had lost to Long Xuhu in the daytime battle and seemed to have had his edge blunted, he had also thoroughly lulled Western Qi into complacency.
All the Zhou Army generals believed that this Yin Shang giant was merely a reckless brute with great strength and no real skill, nothing to fear. Coupled with their small victory at the front just now and the vicious anger in their hearts over avenging themselves tomorrow, vigilance throughout the army had slackened. Even the sentries patrolling the camp were less rigorous than before.
Inside the central command tent, Jiang Ziya was still discussing tomorrow's strategy for defeating the enemy with the generals. Yang Jian and Nezha had already settled on their tactics, waiting only for the next day's battle to kill Chang Hao and Wu Long and repay Yang Ren's blood debt with blood.
Everyone's thoughts were fixed on magical combat at the battlefront. No one had expected Yin Shang to dare launch a nighttime raid on their camp.
In the Shang camp, the night had grown deep, and murderous intent lurked beneath the darkness.
Following the plan, Yuan Hong deployed his troops and selected twenty thousand elite death warriors. All were veteran Yin Shang soldiers hardened by countless battles and fearless of death. Each wore armor, held a bit between his teeth, concealed a sharp blade, and made not the slightest sound.
The two demons, Chang Hao and Wu Long, secretly accompanied them, concealing their demonic aura. Their task was to mask all movement and restrain the immortals patrolling the camp.
At the second watch, the night wind was bleak, clouds covered the stars and moon, and the land lay black as ink. It was the perfect time to