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The flash of blades shimmered, and Yang Ge appeared in the air outside the east city gate, suspended as if by magic.
Outside the east city gate, a large group of swordsmen dressed in thick black and red robes, with disheveled hair that gave them an unclean and sinister aura, waved their heavy broadswords like a tide assaulting the city gates. Among them, a middle-aged man in a black robe with a goat beard had already scaled the wall and was slaughtering rampantly!
Atop the east city gate, Fang Ke, dressed in embroidered clothes adorned with ox patterns, was desperately leading over two hundred muscular guards in defending against the onslaught of the black-clad swordsmen...
With just one glance, Yang Ge's expression turned icy cold.
He stretched out a hand, clawing at the air above the densely packed battlefield with a grasping motion.
"Clang, clang, clang..."
