The yellow sand rolls endlessly, stretching to the far horizon where heaven and earth meet, blood stains the earth, and the ancient city of Loulan has already crumbled in half from this battle, on one side are nearly a thousand massive flags descending like clouds, facing only two people.
The Great Khan King of Dichi watches his opponent, a young man from Great Qin. His demeanor is more like a gentle scholar, but he wears a full set of Great Qin Mingguang Armor, sturdy and heavy, like a mountain, protecting him firmly, with a crimson cape billowing in the wind behind the armor.
The Khitan Khan King whispers in the language of the Central Plains.
His expression is solemn, his gaze straightforward and earnest, as if looking at a distant landscape, the thousands of Iron Cavalry behind him likewise stand silently, the tall warhorses beneath them slightly shaking their heads, their long and soft manes undulating like waves.
The Great Khan King of Dichi pats the neck of his horse and withdraws his gaze, looking at the sword in Wang Anfeng's hand.
The sword has a blade slightly wider than ordinary broad swords, with conspicuous cracks on the spine, filled with a red and gold light, seemingly flowing like hot magma, as if it would drip from the blade with a slight tilt.
The recent anomaly, such a scorching aura.
Exerting all one's strength to block the might of ten thousand arrows at once.
This is undoubtedly an awakened divine weapon, but it is not Zhan Lu, it should not be.
That sword of benevolence would not have such a scorching and sharp aura, according to the records, that sword is entirely ink-colored, more like an eye than a murderous blade, the eye of the heavens, watching over the world, broad and gentle.
The Great Khan King of Dichi looks at Wang Anfeng:
Wang Anfeng shakes his head:
"It is not, I do not bear the capacity for Zhan Lu, the sword said so."
"Still, no one in the world can bear it."
The Great Khan King of Dichi raises his brows, thoughtful, then slowly says:
"It seems that sword is not merely a simple divine weapon, not a force that can be easily wielded by anyone, though I wish to try whether I am worthy of drawing this sword, now doesn't seem to be the time."
"Divine Martial Wang Anfeng, let us cease today."
He pats the horse's back, sighing:
"Zhang Duo has shown me why Divine Martial was so named, enduring feelings and combat will unchanged for decades, to be honest, I admire you, but since Zhan Lu cannot be obtained now, I have no reason to linger here, nor to engage with you."
"Continuing gains neither side any advantage."
"My Iron Cavalry may sustain losses, but returning to the Northern Frontier, they can naturally recover, while you, even as a Grandmaster, would at least sustain injuries, if not death, which is unwise given your youth and strength, we will surely meet again."
"Then we will decide ranks and fates."
He firmly grips the reins, and the tall warhorse beneath him sways its mane, about to turn around, the Iron Cavalry around them part like flowing mercury, protecting the Great Khan King of Dichi, slowly changing direction.
Nearly a thousand beast-hide flags flutter in the wind, fixed on cross-shaped dark iron, the flag's peak like a short sword pointing to the heavens, with golden patterns, forged personally by the women of the Xiongnu Tribe's royal family.
Under such ritual instruments, the gray flag soaring like a proud eagle.
Sheng Zhehan, clutching his chest, wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth, feeling unwillingness mixed with relief. Once a Grandmaster Zhang Duo faced exhaustion and death even after the reappearance of the Divine Martial military soul, taking no more than a thousand elite riders with him.
The opponent was one of the era's strongest armies.
Even with just these eight thousand elite, the Great Qin Academy holds them in high regard, believing them to best reflect the era's fire of invasion and thunderous movement, ranking fifth among the world's armies, with victories few could claim to match, but four armies worldwide.
Such acknowledges their martial achievements.
Sheng Zhehan coughs twice, looking at Wang Anfeng beside him, asks:
"Master, what shall we do next?"
He had anticipated Blade Madman's identity as extraordinary, never expecting him to be a Fighting General within the Great Qin Divine Martial Mansion, explaining his agitation learning the true aim of the Great Wilderness Stronghold.
The danger here temporarily cleared, the next step would likely be to return to Great Qin.
To convey all the news here back to the Qin State, as the Great Khan King of Dichi said, the future promises increasingly tumultuous standoffs, with this Xiongnu elite, and Great Qin Divine Martial Mansion, destined to reunite on the battlefield. Thıs text ıs hosted at N()velFire.net
The remains of that elder, standing alone against the charge, must be respectfully gathered.
His mind muddled, thoughts flooding one after another, yet in reality, it was only a fleeting moment, so swift that the dark cloak of the Great Khan King behind him was still raised, yet to fall.