"Quick, meet the enemy!" Mengheer shouted.
In an instant, a sense of mortal danger seized his heart.
Five hundred paces away, five streaks of black light shot toward him like lightning. Boom, boom, boom!
Five masses of astral qi exploded around him.
Surrounded by his personal guards, Mengheer watched their flesh and blood fly.
Terror filled his heart.
He hurriedly brought out his precious shield to protect himself.
Immediately, five more streaks of black light shot toward him. Boom, boom!
Mengheer fell from his horse and spat out a mouthful of blood.
By then, the Martial Suppression Guard had already charged into his vanguard camp.
Although his men were elite Northern Barbarian cavalry, they fell like wheat before the charge, dying in droves as flesh and blood flew.
"General, retreat!" his sole surviving personal guard shouted.
He gave Mengheer his own horse.
"No! Hold them off! Just hold out for an hour and pin them down until our main force arrives!" Mengheer shouted.
But he soon realized the situation was rapidly deteriorating.
The enemy generals wielded paired sabers, paired axes, spears, and swords. Every one of them swept through his men as though no one stood in their way, working together in perfect harmony!
The enemy force also clearly used some strange battle formation during its charge, cutting into his vanguard like a sharp blade, unstoppable wherever it went.
His soldiers were cut down like melons and vegetables beneath a cleaver.
Mengheer felt his heart clench, and desperate terror rose within him.
Forget an hour-they would not even last fifteen minutes!
"Retreat! Retreat!" he screamed.
The next instant, a crimson spear aura swept toward him and pierced straight through his heart.
With more than half its men dead or wounded, the vanguard broke and fled.
Zhao Feng did not pursue.