The soldiers lay together in groups of three or five. They simply took off their saddles and spread them on the ground, some sitting, some lying down.
Clusters of bonfires burned, iron pots set over them to boil meat soup.
There was no lack of firewood here. Chopping down a few trees at random was enough for their use, and there was no lack of water either; not far off beside them ran a nameless little river.
They still had plenty of horse meat, and plenty of wild game as well. There were still many wild beasts in the Snow Plains.
Tigers, bears, wolves, wild boars, and the like.
However, with so many men and so many horses, they had still trampled the area for over ten li around them into a sorry state.
By the time the sky brightened, the forest for over ten li around had already become a complete mess. Fortunately, this world had no environmental protection laws, nor any environmentalists to condemn them.
Just as the sky was beginning to pale, Yang Zhengshan led the army slowly toward the tribe they had scouted out the day before.
The tribe Yang Minghao had scouted yesterday was not large, numbering just over a thousand people in total.
A small tribe like this probably was not even a tribe of the Wuliang Hu Tribe. They should be a tribe wandering between the Wuliang Hu Tribe and the Snow Plains.
How could a small tribe withstand the spearhead of an army of tens of thousands?
With the army pressing down on their borders, the battle was settled in less than half an hour.
Men and women, old and young, all died beneath the butcher's blade. Perhaps a few infants who could only cry were spared, but Yang Zhengshan would not