Witch Smoke Confuses the Path, Luring the Barbarians; A Swift Arrow Pierces the Mist, Locking the Startled Soul

Within the murky, yellow-brown witch-smoke, thunderous hoofbeats came racing up the slope, drawing ever closer. In the blink of an eye, they were practically upon them, making the ground tremble faintly and even the loose stones beneath their feet hop lightly.

On the high ground flanking the slope inside the Mountain Pass, two thousand Xiongnu soldiers tasked with luring the enemy had already drawn their bows to the full. Every one of them held his breath, eyes fixed on the direction from which the hoofbeats came.

Through the dim yellow fog, they could only make out vague dark silhouettes, unable to discern the figures or formation clearly.

"Loose!" The leader lowered his voice as he barked the order. There was a trace of tension in his tone, but also a cold severity.

Before his words had even faded, all two thousand Xiongnu soldiers released their bowstrings at once, sending a dense barrage of arrows toward the hoofbeats.

The rain of arrows surged like a tide, tearing through the yellow witch-smoke with howling gusts as it poured down upon the cluster of shadows.

Yet the expected sounds of arrows sinking into flesh and cries of agony never came. Instead, a dense chorus of sharp clang, clang rang out, like metal striking metal, echoing clearly between the slopes—harsh and abrupt.

The Xiongnu soldiers froze mid-motion, shock and suspicion instantly surfacing on their faces as their taut bodies stiffened slightly.

A soldier in the front lowered his bronze bow, his brows drawing tightly together. His eyes were full of confusion as he instinctively craned his head to look down, but all he saw was a blanket of yellow fog. He could see nothing at all.

He muttered under his breath, utterly baffled. "What's going on? Why are there only clanging sounds after we