Using the momentum of the cavalry's charge, the Mo Dao Army soldiers could cleave a horse's head and its rider in two with a single stroke!
And the process cost the soldiers little effort, for the Mo Dao blades themselves were extraordinarily sharp. They did not even need to swing hard-just let the enemy crash into their blades, then follow through with a slash!
The charging momentum the cavalry had once taken such pride in had now become their own death warrant. More terrifying still, before their blades could reach the Mo Dao Army soldiers, the long-handled Mo Dao in those soldiers' hands had often already claimed their lives!
"What!"
Seeing the Western Liang Iron Cavalry being slaughtered by the infantry before him, Ma Chao's face drained of color, and he cried out involuntarily.
Those bloody scenes of men and horses alike being torn apart, their guts and organs spilling across the ground, battered his eyes and his heart!
He felt as though everything he had long understood had been overturned. He had never seen anything like this!
What kind of army was this!
The Mo Dao Army's slaughter continued. Though dispersed, they were not fighting alone, but attacking the enemy in coordinated groups of two or three.
They were like a precision mechanism, displaying their own aesthetics of violence on this battlefield as they reaped enemy lives without pause.
No one feared, and no one retreated.
From the moment they had been selected for the Mo Dao Army, they had known their mission: to be the sharpest blade on the battlefield, and its strongest shield!
There was no retreat for them. Only death in battle would bring them rest!
Lü Bu and Zhao Yun, who were pursuing Ma Chao from behind, also saw the bloody scene on the battlefield