Guo Jing was like the sharpest blade, forcibly carving a gap through the Jin Dynasty army camp. No one could stop him wherever he went.
Song Qingshu clicked his tongue in amazement. On one hand, he admired Guo Jing's valor; on the other, he admired his judgment even more. Taking an enemy general's head amid ten thousand troops was no easy task. There were people everywhere, and the slightest pause would see one swallowed completely by the surging masses around him. Thus, throughout history, great warriors breaking an enemy formation needed not only ferocity, but cunning as well.
Ferocity went without saying. Without that courage and martial prowess, one would likely fall at the very start, let alone break through an army formation. But brute strength alone was not enough; one also had to make clever use of openings and charge through the gaps between the various divisions.
Commanding a great army was not as simple as moving one's limbs. Even the most brilliant generals could leave flaws in the coordination between their units. Of course, the greater the general, the more fleeting such flaws were. If they were not seized in time, one would immediately be swallowed by the enemy's vast sea of soldiers.
Guo Jing possessed that keen eye, which was why he had been able to charge alone into the core of tens of thousands of Jin soldiers. But he was human, not a god. As the Jin Army gradually reacted, his charging speed slowed more and more. In the end, his warhorse, grievously wounded, finally collapsed helplessly to the ground.
Before the Jurchen could celebrate, Guo Jing suddenly sprang up from the ground. With his peerless qinggong, he evaded countless slashing blades, spears, swords, and halberds. After several leaps over the heads of the crowd, he