The battle outside Chang'an City raged on, the chaos deepening in the darkness as the clash of swords and the cries of dying men filled the night. Soldiers from various states and counties had gathered to defend the city, but these men were not elite warriors—they were ill-prepared and caught completely off guard by the sudden, brutal assault of the Dragoon Army.
The Dragoons, led by the formidable Yuan Zuozong, tore through the ranks like wolves among sheep. Though a few generals attempted to rally their troops, their efforts were futile. Against the overwhelming strength of the Dragoon Army, resistance crumbled like dust in the wind.
Yuan Zuozong, silver spear in hand, was a whirlwind of destruction. Every soldier who stood in his way fell, cut down by his brutal efficiency. His strength, at the level of a Martial Saint, made him unstoppable—a deity of war on the mortal battlefield, where no one could challenge him.
"Kill!" Yuan Zuozong's voice echoed through the battlefield, his excitement for the bloodshed uncontainable. It was exhilarating. Every swing of his spear brought him joy, every fallen foe only fueled his bloodlust. Not a single soldier could touch him, not a single arrow could pierce his armor. He was the tip of the Dragoon spear, leading his men through the chaos with savage precision.
The Zhou soldiers, overwhelmed and terrified, began to break. The battlefield turned into a slaughterhouse. Blood flowed freely, pooling beneath the corpses that piled up. Their will to fight dissolved as panic set in.
"Run! They're demons! They're not human!" someone screamed.
Panic spread like wildfire. Soldiers fled to the city gates, pounding on the iron doors, begging for entry. But the defenders on the wall did nothing. Fear of letting the enemy into Chang'an gripped them; they knew that opening the gates could spell the end for the city.
On the walls, General Xiao Shan watched in horror as the Dragoon Army advanced. His eyes widened as he took in the scene—countless bodies of Zhou soldiers strewn across the battlefield, yet not a single Dragoon corpse in sight. The loss ratio was staggering, zero to hundreds of thousands.
"Is this the might of Orion's White Armored Cavalry?" he whispered in disbelief, his voice trembling. The sheer power of the enemy was beyond anything he had imagined. The Dragoon Army was now nearly upon the city walls, an unstoppable force inching closer by the second.
"Fire the arrows!" Xiao Shan shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "Hurry!"
Arrows rained down from the walls, a desperate attempt to slow the onslaught. But it was no use. The Dragoons' armor was impenetrable, their defenses too strong. The arrows bounced off harmlessly, while the unfortunate Zhou soldiers caught in the crossfire were struck down by their own comrades' fire.
"How can this be? What are they made of?" Xiao Shan muttered, his confidence shattered as he realized that even the powerful Dragon-Hunting Crossbows couldn't penetrate the enemy's armor.
Just as the Dragoons seemed poised to crash into the city, Yuan Zuozong led his troops into a sudden retreat. Xiao Shan and the defenders, though baffled by the sudden withdrawal, sighed in relief. They had narrowly escaped annihilation—but they knew it was only temporary.
As the Dragoons turned away, the wind shifted. From the direction of Chang'an, dozens of powerful presences emerged, their auras cutting through the night. One presence, in particular, radiated an overwhelming, emperor-like power. It was the kind of strength that made even the Dragoon commanders, Xu Chu and Qingyun, exchange wary glances.
"The peak of the emperor..." Xu Chu murmured, his eyes narrowing as he felt the immense energy approaching. A new force had entered the battlefield—one that could turn the tide of war.