"Could it be that the Heavenly Mandate truly lies with Zhao?!"
At the Yellow Heaven Army's encampment, the Yellow Heaven Daoist let out a similar sigh.
Taking Wu City with five thousand soldiers—he would not even have dared imagine such a thing, yet it had truly been done, and done with such thunderous speed.
Of course, unlike Wu Qi, he had the groundwork laid by the blueprints Zhao Cheng had previously gifted him. He knew that Zhao Cheng had received Heaven's bestowal, so his thoughts immediately turned to Daoist arts.
As for why Zhao Cheng had not handed such Daoist arts, capable of conquering cities and seizing lands, over to the Yellow Heaven Dao, a turn of his mind was enough for him to understand.
What the Yellow Heaven Dao lacked now was not a handful of cities. At its most glorious, the Yellow Heaven Dao had swept across more than half the realm. There had been no need to besiege cities—the gates would open on their own, and they would surrender outright. That scene of surging vitality, of all things bursting forth, had been ten times mightier than any Daoist art.
That, more or less, was what was meant by the greater Momentum.
But alas, they could gain it, yet could not hold it. That was the Yellow Heaven Dao's fatal flaw.
They rose swiftly and perished swiftly. They had risen too fast, leaving their foundations unstable. Once they fell into a deadlock, every flaw erupted at once.
Even if Zhao Cheng's city-breaking Daoist art were handed to the Yellow Heaven Dao, it would not mean much at present. Instead, it would only stir the warlords into a murderous resolve to eliminate them.
What the Yellow Heaven Dao truly lacked was talent capable of governing the realm.
City after