Once King Zhou's decree had been issued, Su Hu, no matter how unwilling he was, could only marshal Jizhou's troops, bid farewell to his homeland of Jizhou, pull up camp, and march in a vast, rolling procession toward Xiqi's borders.
Along the way, his brows stayed tightly knitted, his mind filled with schemes for secretly communicating with Xiqi, and he deliberately slowed the army's pace.
Though the soldiers under his command advanced in formation, they had not the slightest sharp killing edge about them. They looked entirely like an empty show of force, only hoping they might find a suitable opportunity to surrender completely to Xiqi.
Before many days had passed, the Jizhou Army had arrived outside Xiqi City, where they made camp and faced off against Xiqi's army from afar.
The two armies confronted each other, war drums pounding, their heaven-shaking roar resounding across the wilderness. Banners snapped and rolled in the wind, dust billowing as soldiers on both sides spread into formation, swords drawn and bows bent, a slaughter ready to erupt at any moment.
Su Hu stood before the formation, watching his troops face off against the soldiers of Xiqi, and the conflict in his heart grew even heavier.
He had never had any desire to start this battle, yet he had no choice but to put on the posture of attack. And just as he found himself trapped between advance and retreat, fighting had already broken out before the lines.
From the Xiqi formation, Huang Feihu rode out in golden armor, awe-inspiring and majestic, holding the Golden Tiger-Head Spear. His sharp gaze swept over the Jizhou Army's ranks.
Seeing this, the Jizhou general Zhao Bing immediately spurred his horse forward, gripping a great saber as he charged straight for Huang Feihu.
Their warhorses crossed, their weapons