A Zhao swordsman wore a tasseled Hu cap; his Wu hook gleamed bright as frost and snow.
A silver saddle shone upon a white horse, galloping like a shooting star.
With one step, he slew one Sage; over ten thousand miles, none could bar his way.
When all was done, he brushed off his robes and left, burying his merit and name deep away.
In idle moments, he visited Lord Xinling to drink, laying his unsheathed sword across his knees.
He served roasted meat to Zhu Hai and raised his cup to urge Hou Ying to drink.
After three cups, he gave his solemn word; the Five Sacred Mountains would topple before its weight.
When eyes blurred and ears grew hot, his righteous spirit rose like a pale rainbow.
To save Zhao, he swung his golden hammer, and Handan was the first to be shaken in alarm.
For a thousand autumns, those two heroes shone gloriously over Great Liang City.
Though dead, their chivalrous bones still gave off fragrance, unashamed before the heroes of the world.
Who could write of such men? Only the Classics of the Sages.
The Great Sage recited the poem, and it formed in an instant.
Yet in that instant, even races that did not understand the language of the Human Race completely understood this Sacred-Way War Poetry resonating with the Sacred Way, as though Fang Yun's voice rang beside their ears.
"Among the heroic wanderers of the Human Race, those from the lands of Yan Kingdom and Zhao were the most renowned. They wore simple warrior tassels upon their heads, blades gleaming like frost and snow at their waists, and rode white horses with silver saddles. Horse and rider reflected each other, racing across the earth like shooting stars."
"At this moment, standing amidst the