Under the veil of the night, the war on the grass plain was raging on, with the miserable screams of soldiers reverberating through the night sky.
What was supposed to be an ambush had turned into a full frontal war.
General Sun rose into the sky, veins protruding from his forehead. He watched the chaos below with seething rage.
Their enemies were killing them as if they were nothing but fish on chopping boards.
"How could this be?" He thought in despair.
Previously, he thought the disparity between them and the enemies was not much. But now, watching the battle, he knew they were wrong.
Their enemies were far beyond what they could fight with their puny armies.
The more he looked at the battle, the more stunned he became. What left him dumbfounded were those wearing straight armors.
They only needed a single strike to decimate his men. A single one of them could take ten of his men without breaking a sweat.
