The armies of the major Tribal Stockades were still deep in the mountains and had yet to assemble. How could they be here, returning from a raid north of the Suxu River?
What was this place? This was the Ten-Thousand-Ghost Shoal. Could everything he was seeing be a scene from years ago...?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when a sound like heaven and earth splitting apart rang out. A cavalry unit charged straight across the river before them and attacked. Camp after camp, utterly unprepared, was overturned and set ablaze by torches until everything glowed red.
The Tribal Stockade Barbarians, fierce as they had been, had gathered rich spoils and were on the verge of returning home. They had no will left to fight to the death. Almost at once, they broke and fled into the distance.
Cries of slaughter, shouts, and every other noise rolled on without end. A troop of cavalry charged up to the Flower-Drum Wizards' campfire and killed everyone in sight.
Even their own elite band was swept up and scattered by the fleeing crowd. Their leader in the horned hat was still standing there in a daze when a horseman swept past and sent his head flying.
Seeing another horseman charge toward him, a Flower-Drum Wizard shut his eyes and screamed, "None of this is real! It's all just an illusion..."
The cry had barely left his mouth when a chill ran through his neck. Blood sprayed, and his head flew into the sky.
Watching the Witch's head fly from afar, Tang Changsheng felt a jolt of alarm.
The Ten-Thousand-Ghost Shoal had formed a vast illusion. Worse, it was so powerful that seeing through it—knowing full well it was false—did no good at all.
The illusion could suppress his Heavenly Heart and spirit,