Once the army had entered the river valley.
Suddenly, a piercing chorus of whistles rang out.
It was not one whistle or two, but hundreds upon thousands sounding at once, shrill and grating, like countless blades scraping across an iron plate.
The instant the whistles sounded, masses of dark figures surged out of the low shrubs and withered grass on the hills to either side. Northern Barbarian cavalry charged from their hiding places, their camouflaged black leather armor and curved sabers gleaming dully through the dim clouds of dust, like a black tide welling up from the depths of the earth.
Their target was clear. Rather than engage the main force, they made straight for the Supply Train at the army's rear.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Hundreds of flaming arrows shot from the hills on both sides at once, carrying blazing flames and the smell of grease. They tore through the gray-yellow dust toward the supply wagons covered in dark green tarpaulins, like countless fiery serpents opening their searing, ravenous mouths.
Then, through the murky morning mist, more and more Northern Barbarian cavalry appeared on the hills on either side, pouring down like a tide.
"Fire! Set them ablaze! Burn their grain, fodder, and supplies!"
Northern Barbarian speech mingled with broken Great Yan official speech, pouring down from the hills. The first wave of flaming arrows flew like a dense swarm of locusts, carrying burning oilcloth and grease as they cut through the gray-yellow dust toward the Supply Train. The arrows shrieked through the air, sharp and piercing, like countless venomous snakes opening their mouths at once.
But Zhao Feng had already made his arrangements.
Along the outer edges of the Supply Train at the rear, over a thousand shields rose simultaneously. These were no ordinary leather shields, but great wooden