The sky was blue, the wilderness was vast, the wind blew and the grass was low, seeing the cattle and sheep rustling.
This should have been a magnificent sight, but the loud horn sound, along with the killing intent of the Chinese cavalry, and the thunderous sound of iron hooves echoed across the vast grassland.
On the distant horizon, black smoke rose into the sky. The burning Xiongnu Royal Court looked like the last sad song of the Xiongnu tribe under the setting sun.
The Yan and Zhao cavalrymen equipped with stirrups stepped on the wolf flags and swept across the grassland like wolves and tigers. Arrows rained down like rain, and blades gleamed like snow.
The Wanderers from all over the world followed closely behind, and they surrounded the Xiongnu Royal Court like a pack of wolves, not allowing a single Xiongnu to escape.
