The bleak, cold moonlight shone on the grim iron armor of thousands of cavalrymen, reflecting a chill gleam that made the heart tremble. The entire army stood silent as a mountain, with only the occasional snort of a warhorse and the soft tread of iron hooves echoing in the night wind.
The Great Chen Cavalry's fearsome reputation for sweeping across the world was laid bare in that murderous atmosphere, offering a glimpse of its strict discipline.
He An tightened his grip on his sword hilt, a thin sheen of sweat seeping into his palm. He knew that killing those cavalrymen earlier was already an unforgivable provocation in the eyes of these elite troops, who repaid even the smallest slight.
What put him even more on guard was that, under Great Chen's military regulations, a cavalry force of this size had to include accompanying cultivators specifically assigned to deal with other cultivators.
"Creeeak-"
A teeth-grating chorus of bowstrings being drawn suddenly rang out. The helmeted, armored cavalrymen raised their bows and nocked their arrows in unison. Cold arrowheads glittered with the light of death beneath the moon, and the murderous chill filling the air was almost suffocating.
Suddenly, a heavily armored cavalry commander raised a hand, stopping the impending rain of arrows. His bearing was steady, his gaze beneath his helmet as sharp as a hawk's. He knew full well that attacking a powerful cultivator recklessly would only cause needless casualties.
Once a cultivator entered the grandmaster realm, only overwhelming numbers supported by several true self realm cultivators could hope to bury him beneath lives sacrificed without regard for the cost. Otherwise, all their efforts would come to nothing, and they might even collapse at the first clash.
In the battle of Great Green Gorge years ago, Grandmaster Han Zongwang had