Blade light flickered, and Yang Ge appeared in midair outside the East City Gate, standing unsupported in the sky.
Outside the East City Gate, a large band of saber-wielding men in heavy black-and-red robes, their hair hanging loose and their bearing filthy and sinister, surged toward the gate like a tide, brandishing chilling, thick-backed mountain-cleaving sabers. One middle-aged man in black robes with a goatee had already charged onto the battlements and was hacking away!
On the East City Gate, Fang Ke, clad in his Prisoner Ox Embroidered Uniform, was directing more than two hundred Embroidered-Clad Strongmen as they struggled to withstand the black-clad swordsmen's assault...
One glance was all it took for Yang Ge's expression to turn cold and grim.
He extended one hand, curled his fingers into a claw, and seized and pulled at the battlefield seething with people below.
Clang, clang, clang...
Amid the explosive ringing of blades, the thick-backed mountain-cleaving sabers flew out of every black-clad swordsman's hands and into the air.
Before the sabers could release any blade qi, Yang Ge opened his clawed hand and gently pressed his palm downward.
Dozens of mountain-cleaving sabers immediately plunged back down even faster than they had risen, unerringly finding their former owners and pinning them to the snowy ground. Bursts of fresh blood splashed across the pristine snow, as brilliant as camellias blooming beneath white clouds...
It happened in a flash. Before either side fighting on the battlefield could see how those sabers had suddenly flown into the sky, the dozens of black-clad men who had been charging fiercely at the gate a second earlier had already blossomed into red flowers with black centers.
The only one who escaped disaster-or, more precisely, the one Yang Ge had deliberately spared-was the goateed man in black robes. Terror shattered