Witch Mist Fills the Hills, Arrow Shadows Lengthen; Hu Soldiers Shoot Stealthily, Attacking Shin and Skirt

Dense arrows whistled through layer upon layer of mist, carrying fierce gusts as they tore through the stifling air and shot toward the Blood-Clad Army.

The Xiongnu soldiers poked their heads out from behind cover one after another, their eyes fixed on the arrow shadows weaving through the gray-black strands of fog. Their gazes brimmed with the desperate hope of a last gamble as they silently bolstered themselves again and again.

With such an offensive, and the enemy formation packed so tightly, they would surely inflict grievous damage on these terrifying foes.

They needed a victory too badly—to drive away the fear in their hearts, to use the enemy army's casualties and screams to bolster their own courage, and to shatter that dreadful belief that their foes were invincible.

Yet the next instant, what reached their ears was not the pleasing sound they had anticipated—blades sinking into flesh, soldiers' muffled groans, and screams.

Instead, it was a dense, piercing chorus of crisp "clang, clang, clang" sounds, so clear they grated on the ear, exceptionally distinct amid the silent mist.

Deep within the fog, scattered sparks could faintly be seen flashing by, like stars vanishing in an instant through the night—brief, yet dazzling.

Those were sparks thrown up as the arrows struck heavy armor, only to be swallowed by the thick fog in the blink of an eye.

Every Xiongnu soldier's expression changed abruptly. The anticipation on their faces was extinguished as if doused by cold water, instantly replaced by utter shock and bewilderment. They froze where they stood, forgetting even to steady their breathing.

This was completely different from what they had imagined!

With such a dense volley, no matter how fine the enemy's armor was, there should have been gaps, there should have been casualties. How could there be