In the wilderness of Loess Slope, two forces clashed amid cries of battle. One side wore light leather armor and carried sabers, shields, and spears. They surged forward with unstoppable momentum, cutting down the other side until the latter scattered, abandoning helmets and armor. Even after routing their foes, they continued shouting as they pursued them.
Among the fleeing men, only a handful of the fastest were fully armored. Most wore ragged clothes and straw sandals. Their equipment was a mismatched mess—armor of unknown origin strapped haphazardly to their bodies. Most wielded long sabers, while some even carried iron forks. At a glance, they were clearly a rabble with no fighting strength to speak of.
These irregulars all wore yellow cloth around their foreheads. Though their movements and fighting were utterly disorganized, it was obvious that they belonged to the same faction.
On the battlefield farther away, corpses lay everywhere. Many banners had fallen to the ground, covered in black footprints and dark-red bloodstains. Aside from the Five Direction Banners and the like, several flags still bore faintly visible words: "The Blue Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise. The year is Jiazi; all under Heaven shall prosper"...
A rider sat atop a somewhat short, unimpressive warhorse, swinging the long saber in his hand. Seeing the beardless youth ahead frozen in terror, he curled his lips into a savage grin. Spurring his horse forward, he raised his saber, intending to take the boy's head in a single stroke and add another achievement to his record.
Before Wang Yan could regain his senses, he heard a faint whistle through the air. Every hair on his body stood on end, and alarm bells rang in his mind.
In an instant, he suddenly stepped back, narrowly avoiding the rider's strike. The savage