Before Dayao Mountain, thick snow stretched vast and boundless; mountains and rivers were one color, heaven and earth all white.
Within the Yangwu Grand Barracks, sturdy gray-white tents extended from before Dayao Mountain all the way several li into the distance, packed closely yet arranged with order, scattered like stars across the sky.
With tens of thousands of people, the forward camp, central camp, rear camp, left and right wings, baggage area, and every other facility were all present. Backed by immense wealth and manpower, it had already become an independent little town—a military town.
Within it, people flowed like a weaving stream, their Blood Qi vigorous and masculine. Though vast, chaotic, scattered, and unstructured, their collective will still imposed an incomparably heavy pressure on outsiders.
Even from far away, one could still hear the earth-shaking sounds of drills rising from the camp from time to time.
When Meng Zhao, Beitang He, Liang Muqiu, and their party arrived outside the gates of the Yangwu Army camp, they happened upon a drill. With every brave, fearless, upright, and killing cry, they felt the earth beneath their feet tremble.
At this moment, the Yangwu Army was in truth leaderless. Their so-called drills were not truly conducted according to military strategy and battle formations. Rather, soldiers from different factions followed the leaders of their own groups in basic training. Uniform ranks and formations were the difficult hurdle they were currently trying to overcome.
The man guarding the camp gate was an expert from the Yanping Commandery Prince's Mansion. He had also been planted here as eyes and ears, secretly gathering information from all sides, compiling it, and ultimately sending it to Beitang He.
Seeing Meng Zhao and Beitang He arrive, the man repeatedly waved his hand and signaled the two sentry posts. The