Blood-Clad Thunderbolt Enemy-Breaking Formation, Broken Bodies and Shattered Armor Fill the Desolate Plains

Beimingzi smiled but did not answer.

He raised his head and looked toward the Blood-Clad Army, that black line drawing ever nearer, a trace of complexity flashing through his eyes.

He recalled the time he had joined the battle outside Wu'an City, and what Zhao Cheng had looked like when he saw him.

That young man had hovered above Wu'an City, gazing down upon the countless troops below. With an expressionless face, he had raised his hand and suppressed them.

In an instant, heaven and earth changed color. Those lofty second-generation disciples of the Chan Sect were swept down like fallen leaves.

Even then, he had known that this man was the Chan Sect's great enemy, a talent rarely seen in a thousand ages.

Compared to that, what did divine calculations and ingenious schemes amount to?

Meng Wu had simply seen too little.

"Lord Wuwei's move," Beimingzi said slowly, his voice carrying a touch more gravity, "is not merely to encircle these eighty thousand Xiongnu remnants."

Meng Wu turned to look at him.

"He intends to shatter the Xiongnu's deployments in their heartland."

Beimingzi pointed in the direction of the retreating Xiongnu army, then toward the White Sheep Tribe, the Jizhou Tribe, and the Gaolin Tribe. "The Blood-Clad Army has slaughtered its way here. The tribes along its path have either been wiped out or crippled.

"The defenses in the Xiongnu heartland are already riddled with holes.

"The forces of many tribes have been drawn away to where they should be.

"It will make the final offensive easier afterward."

He paused and looked Meng Wu in the eye.

"Next, it will be your turn to lead the army and conquer the Xiongnu."

Meng Wu's heart skipped a beat.

"The Xiongnu Royal Court." Beimingzi enunciated each word. "Lord Wuwei means for