Yang Chengye rode a tall, powerful horse, clad in heavy armor, and led one thousand heavy armored cavalry as they plunged headfirst into Emperor Tianwu's imperial guard formation.
His horse truly was a towering steed, its shoulder height over two meters. The horse's shoulders alone were not much lower than an ordinary cavalryman, and with Yang Chengye mounted on its back, he stood half a body taller than the Great Liang Army's riders.
By now, Yang Chengye's warhorse was no longer the Wanjun of the past. Wanjun was Red Cloud's descendant, but it was now over thirty years old, so long ago Yang Zhengshan had raised it inside the Spirit Spring Space.
And Yang Zhengshan had exchanged it for a warhorse that had grown up within the Spirit Spring Space.
A warhorse raised inside the Spirit Spring Space was no exaggeration to call a Divine Steed.
Yang Chengye rode the Divine Steed, brandishing his long spear, like a demon god upon the battlefield—if gods blocked him, he slew gods; if Buddhas blocked him, he slew Buddhas.
Whether they were the Great Liang Army's elites or the imperial personal guards at Emperor Tianwu's side, none were his match even for a single exchange.
There were even several Great Liang Army generals who tried to block Yang Chengye, but they were all sent flying by one thrust of Yang Chengye's spear.
At this moment, Yang Chengye had quite the bearing Yang Zhengshan had in those years: amid ten thousand troops, he charged wildly left and right; below the Innate Realm, with me here, none can stand against me.
Firelight rang bright, and blood boiled.
Yang Chengye only felt his five viscera and six bowels trembling—not because he was wounded, but because his excitement could not be suppressed.
This was his first time