Chang'an, Bronze Sparrow Terrace, clear skies.
At this moment, the training grounds of Bronze Sparrow Terrace were packed with soldiers standing ramrod straight. Half wore red armor, while the other half wore black armor. They were imposing, yet filled with murderous intent.
Today, throughout An City, not even a single bird dared to fly past because of their presence.
After nearly four years of campaigns, training, and elimination rounds, every one of these soldiers was an elite among elites, forged through brutal training and crawling out of mountains of blades and seas of blood.
Although the other warlords were also rigorously training their elite troops,
Jiang Siming could confidently say that even his slightly weaker Red Armored Army was considerably stronger than their finest elites.
All seven hundred thousand troops had gathered at Bronze Sparrow Terrace. There was not even enough room on the terrace itself, and the lines stretched all the way to the vicinity of the imperial palace.
No one inside the imperial palace even dared to breathe too loudly. Liu Xie had practically barricaded himself in his sleeping quarters and refused to come out. He knew that Jiang Siming had a formidable army, but he had never imagined it could be formidable to this extent.
He had assumed that Jiang Siming was at most a little stronger than Dong Zhuo had once been. But today, when he looked out from an attic in the imperial palace, he was deeply shaken.
Even at the height of the Han Dynasty, it had never possessed an army like this! Liu Xie could not help asking himself: Could the Five-route Alliance really defeat Jiang Siming?
He had been very confident before, but now that confidence had become extremely faint.
Through a crack in his sleeping quarters, Liu Xie gazed at the