Devastation and desolation filled the eye: scorched-yellow, withered grasslands, cold rocks tinged with a sinister black, and gust after gust of chill wind blowing down from the far north. All proclaimed the great change in the grassland climate, heralding the bitter winter.
The desolate grasslands and plateau had become a hell on earth. How could one tell?
Beside a murmuring stream, Luo Chengzhi led the Luo Clan army of over ten thousand in a rest along the riverbank. The parched warhorses naturally wanted to drink from the river, but they were held back, their hooves pawing the air.
"Boil all of it. Not a single medicinal herb can be left out."
The soldiers boiled water in pots, added herbs, and let it cool before giving it to the horses. Needless to say, the soldiers also drank water steeped with herbs. It was an inky green and carried an unpleasant odor.
But they had no choice but to drink it.
Luo Chengzhi likewise raised a bowl of the medicinal water and drank. On the grasslands now, any river might contain great quantities of plague poison.
Since the great war began, even the Luo Clan had suffered such heavy losses, with only ten thousand or so remaining from over twenty thousand. The other states and grassland tribes had fared still worse. Their corpses were difficult to dispose of, breeding disease that then spread widely among cattle, sheep, and horses. It could only be described as too ghastly to behold.
Clop, clop, clop.
An army of some thirty thousand rounded the hills and encamped to their north, upstream along the river. The banners flying high belonged to the Yan State army.
Luo Chengzhi rode over. Seeing the many women and young children among the Yan Army, he immediately knew they were captured Hu