Under the deep night, firelight burned through half the sky.
"Form ranks! Meet the enemy!" Duan Heng roared again.
By now, the soldiers under his command had fallen into complete chaos.
The troops outside the camp had not yet withdrawn, while the troops inside were still frantically trying to squeeze out.
Xie Yuan had chosen his timing well. He struck when nearly a third of the enemy had poured into the camp. The originally broad camp gate became like a shackle clamped around the enemy army's vital point, leaving them unable to advance or retreat.
Rumble—
The thunder of hooves rolled in. Yang Zhengshan led the charge alone, his spear striking in and out like a dragon.
Compared with Yu Qingyi fighting alone, Yang Zhengshan was also charging the formation by himself now. The cavalry behind him had not yet caught up, but his charge was not just for slaughter—it was to tear open a path for the cavalry behind him and point them in the right direction.
An inch longer, an inch stronger. Wherever Yang Zhengshan charged through, a blood road a zhang wide appeared.
In the blink of an eye, Yang Zhengshan had rushed more than ten zhang into the enemy formation, and only then did the cavalry behind him crash into the enemy ranks.
Neigh—
Red Cloud raised its forehooves and let out a whinny. When its hooves came down, two soldiers were kicked straight into the air.
"Hahaha, this old man is Yang Zhengshan! Is there anyone who dares fight this old man?"
Yang Zhengshan laughed loudly and let out a thunderous shout!
His resonant voice rolled like peals of thunder, actually drowning out the chaotic cries of killing and the screams of agony, spreading across the entire battlefield.
With that one roar, the morale of