"My lord, that's the Hu Tribe's main army. They're currently setting up camp twenty li to the northeast!"
Song Dashan came before Yang Zhengshan and reported.
Yang Zhengshan's heart tightened. It was actually the Hu Tribe's main army!
"How many troops?"
"The sky was too dark. We couldn't see clearly, but their camp was huge. There had to be at least fifty thousand men!" Yang Mingwu said.
Yang Zhengshan fell into thought.
"Do they have many scouts?"
"A lot!" Song Dashan said gravely. "On our way there, we ran into four groups of scouts."
Yang Zhengshan glanced at the bloodstains on him and said, "Then let's use this chance to train our scouts."
Since it was the Hu Tribe's main army, he had nothing to worry about.
The Hu Tribe's main army would not come to Yinghe Fortress. Yinghe Fortress was only a tun fortress, not some strategic stronghold. To the Hu Tribe, attacking Yinghe Fortress had no meaning at all.
But Yang Zhengshan did not intend to beat the gongs and lower the banners just like that either. Since the enemy had come, they naturally had to bite a chunk of flesh off them.
Every enemy head was solid military merit. Yang Zhengshan naturally did not want to miss such a good opportunity.
Winter nights were especially bitterly cold. Even wrapped in thick leather armor, the scouts still felt their bodies freezing stiff.
Across the desolate, empty wilderness, waves of frigid wind surged, as if they meant to seal everything between heaven and earth in ice.
Under the moonlight thick with cold, the sound of hooves rang out in bursts, accompanying figure after figure as they slowly advanced.
Suddenly, a shrill scream tore through the deathly still, icy night.
Shadowy figures kept intersecting and colliding beneath the cold moonlight.