When that great army began to thunder forward, it was instantly accompanied by a resonant, rhythmic pounding of hooves. Though the hooves struck the air, the resulting gusts of wind genuinely hammered the earth, causing the valleys stretching for hundreds of miles around to roar with concussive sound.

Even ten miles away, Zong Shou could feel the ground vibrating.

Leading the charge were the two thousand Tiger and Leopard Cavalry. Clad head-to-hoof in heavy armor, they rode White-Striped Fanged Tigers, forming a sharp arrowhead guiding the tens of thousands of iron cavalry forward. Behind them lumbered ten thousand heavy cavalry, men and mounts completely encased in black, rune-etched iron armor. From a distance, they appeared as a surging forest of steel.

But what Zong Shou saw was far more extensive. He could perceive these tens of thousands of riders gradually coalescing into a formidable wave of 'momentum'—a confluence of will, morale, combat power, and sheer numbers, solidifying into an aura akin to the 'momentum' found in Martial Dao, making these fifty thousand riders increasingly overwhelming, as if capable of crushing all resistance beneath them. Within this formation, even a mere Martial Master’s strength could be significantly amplified, granting them combat power approaching that of a Secret Martial Master.

The entire massive army was being directed by a single individual at the very front, the sharpest edge of the entire force, constantly restraining and adjusting the formation, molding tens of thousands of men into a singular unit. This figure also guided the overall spirit of the fifty thousand cavalry, driving it step by step toward its peak.

Gazing upon his own side, Zong Shou could only feel speechless. Three thousand iron cavalry was certainly a spectacle in itself. But before that looming, oppressive black mass of the enemy army, it seemed pitifully small.

Morale was low, yet thankfully, everyone present held a resolve to die, possessing a certain spirit of righteous sacrifice, a willingness to perish alongside the enemy—a spirit that meant they were not entirely without a fighting chance.

Zong Yuan remained at the very front, while Tan Tao and Hu Zhongyuan guarded him on his left and right, slightly behind. At this moment, they had urged their riding beasts forward, gradually increasing their speed.

“That is Yang Xuan, rumored to have the Six Meridians of the Black Tortoise. However, from what I know, he has already broken through to the Seventh Meridian. He is said to be the seventh strongest expert from Cloud-Crevice Mountain—the commander of the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry, most skilled in leading mounted forces. His only recorded defeat was seven years ago against Hu Qianqiu, though he managed a full retreat. Since then, he has clashed with Hu Qianqiu eight more times, managing to barely hold an even record each time. He is renowned across the Eastern Continent’s West Lin Continent and regarded as a famous general! The ten Martial Sect experts under him, all possessing the Fifth Meridian of the Earth Wheel, are also elite selections.”

Li Luo explained as he watched, intentionally or not glancing toward Zong Shou: “Two years ago, this man used just thirty thousand cavalry to sweep through the twenty-seven myriad-strong allied forces of Tianfang Province, forcing seventeen major cities into a state of perpetual siege…”

The so-called Tianfang Province was located in the southwestern corner of the Eastern Continent, one of the territories governed by the Sea of Clouds City.

Zong Shou, however, seemed not to hear, merely emitting a soft ‘hmph’ in response. He quietly busied himself with the black, circular mirror before him.

The mirror gradually began to shine, faintly revealing the surging, restless iron cavalry opposite them.

When Zong Yuan’s visibility was fully captured in the mirror, Zong Shou suddenly spurred his spiritual power. A faint, flickering black wooden bird suddenly shot up into the sky. It ascended until it reached a height of a thousand zhang, well clear of the pervasive bloody miasma, before stabilizing. It began to glide through the air, its form completely vanishing. This was a spiritual artifact he had purchased in Boundary-Floating City.

It was a Tier Four item, yet not terribly useful; it could only soar for a thousand li and observe the surroundings. Most of the Tier Four spiritual array within the wooden bird was dedicated to stealth and concealing its aura.

“This thing will be excellent for spying later on. Below the Heaven Rank Martial Venerable, even if they aren't paying close attention, they won't detect it.”

Zong Shou couldn't help but indulge in a secret fantasy about certain intimate scenarios, until the view from the wooden bird’s aerial perch was transmitted directly into his soul consciousness.

Only then did his expression become serious, settling into profound concentration.

In his previous life, to perfect his battlefield maneuvering skills and shore up his weaknesses, he had joined a guild in the simulated reality of the Divine Emperor Game to help a friend, experiencing five or six hundred large and small battles.

That era had an abundant population, augmented by NPCs. Even two minor cities could mobilize hundreds of thousands of troops. He had progressed from a rookie instantly shattered by a single blow to someone who could eventually be considered capable of holding his own, having endured countless defeats before finally achieving success. His record gradually shifted from losing more than winning to winning more than losing. Even in the most dire circumstances, he could ensure a full withdrawal.

However, compared to those 'War Gods' who dominated various regions within the game, there remained a vast chasm between them.

But in this era, ten thousand years prior, an age when the Spirit Tide had only just begun to show its tracks, the military doctrines developed were fundamentally incomparable to the hyper-advanced art of war born from the highly realistic virtual environments of later generations. In that past era, the people of the Cloud Realm were largely free from worries about food and clothing. Bored players in virtual environments that simulated reality tenfold spent nearly the entire day fighting, leading to a vibrant scene. Since death meant rebirth, many methods of troop deployment unimaginable to previous generations surfaced. Localized tactics, the clash of vanguard force and momentum, and the application of spirit arts on the battlefield had all been developed to their zenith.

With the skills he had honed, he estimated he could now dominate any part of the Eastern Continent.

This was the very foundation of his confidence today, daring to confront the forty thousand strong Cloud-Crevice Flame Alliance with only three thousand cavalry!

The virtual and the real were naturally different, but holding this elite cavalry force meant the challenge was not insurmountable. Compared to those frequently chaotic, disorganized rabble of players, these knights from Black Mountain City were overwhelmingly superior.

As they closed to a distance of about a thousand zhang, both sides’ iron cavalry began their charge. Looking down from above, one could see two arrows, one massive and one minuscule, completely disproportionate, hurtling toward a head-on collision.

Both forces were well-trained, controlling their speed and adhering to a specific rhythm. Each footfall sounded like a single drumbeat.

Zong Yuan, also battle-hardened from commanding tens of thousands in charges at Dry Heaven Mountain, kept his muscles as relaxed as possible, holding the Tier Five Purple Thunder Spear loosely. His gaze, twin beams of icy light, fixed intently ahead. In his heart, there was neither lust for battle nor murderous intent, only a detached indifference as if the matter did not concern him.

This day’s battle was fundamentally irrelevant to him; he was only forced to the very tip of the spearhead.

However, that young lord had treated him reasonably well. Though Zong Yuan was certain of his own demise, he was unwilling to owe the man. He exerted his full effort, controlling the rhythm and speed of the entire army through the Dragon-Horned Winged Steed beneath him.

As they approached a hundred zhang, close enough to clearly make out the fine textures on the enemy’s cold iron armor, Zong Yuan suddenly felt a will—not overwhelmingly powerful, yet utterly irresistible—pierce through the void and seize control of all his limbs.

Then, he violently leaped from his mount, raising the Purple Thunder Spear in his hand. The Dragon-Horned Winged Steed’s running speed instantly multiplied several times, dragging the three thousand men behind him into a rapid acceleration. The slow, heavy booming sound suddenly fragmented into rapid bursts.

The two thousand Tiger and Leopard Cavalry directly opposite them also accelerated almost simultaneously, aiming like a sharp spike for a frontal collision.

Approaching ten zhang, Zong Yuan could even clearly see the chilling gazes emanating from the face masks of the two riders leading abreast ahead of them. These were already Martial Sect experts of the Fifth Meridian of the Earth Wheel, whose auras were currently elevated to near-peak intensity by the momentum of the great army. They looked at him as if viewing a corpse.

Zong Yuan merely sneered slightly. These two were dead men! That young lord’s martial intuition was profound; dealing with these two would be no problem at all.

Three mounts collided, and in a blink, they were three zhang apart. Zong Yuan suddenly felt a burst of lightning erupt throughout his body. The unknown bright yellow pearl fixed at the spearhead suddenly flooded a surge of potent essence into his body, instantly filling the flow of energy within his meridians to the absolute maximum! His hands instinctively gave a sharp twitch, and the tip of the Purple Thunder Spear immediately manifested hundreds of spear shadows. Countless blue lightning bolts converged, impressively solidifying into a single, incomparably sharp blade of lightning that shot forward, slicing through the air.

The two Fifth Meridian Martial Sect experts opposite, who had been wielding their twelve-foot saber-like great blades, fully prepared to cleave Zong Yuan into pieces, were clearly stunned. Their sabers had barely begun to move when the spear shadows arrived before them, shattering them and their armor with a single strike. Lightning exploded, mixed with fierce kinetic energy, causing their flesh and blood to completely disintegrate and spray outward. The White-Striped Fanged Tigers following behind were startled and instinctively shied away, roaring fiercely, causing their orderly ranks to falter slightly.

But Zong Yuan’s spear did not stop. The charging Dragon-Horned Winged Steed, covering four zhang per stride, plunged directly into the ranks of the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry. A neigh that sounded nearly like a dragon's roar sent the White-Striped Fanged Tigers into further panic. The spear shadows whirled, instantly dispatching the Earth Wheel Fifth Meridian Martial Sect cavalier following closely behind, who was still reeling in shock. Each strike of the spear ended in the most gruesome manner; with every thrust, flesh and bone disintegrated, splashing everywhere. In just a single breath, more than ten lives were ended!

This spear technique, is it… my Purple Thunder Spear? How could it be this potent?

Zong Yuan’s mind was momentarily bewildered, stirred by this almost ghostly, divine spear art, his blood beginning to run hot. Yet, moments later, a chill crept back in. No matter how excellent the spear technique, could it slay a thousand, two thousand, or even ten thousand men? It ultimately could not single-handedly oppose this army of forty thousand!

As he was silently shaking his head, Zong Yuan suddenly felt something was amiss. The Dragon-Horned Winged Steed beneath him was not charging straight ahead; it was constantly making minute adjustments to its angle, altering its trajectory. The direction of the impact was never toward the enemy's weak points, but always toward the strongest point, where the momentum was most intense!

Each thrust annihilated its target, breaking through resistance like cutting dry wood, reducing the pressure on the three thousand cavalry behind him to almost nothing. Up to this point, their casualties were virtually zero.

And this gruesome slaughter, this method of shredding bodies, was profoundly shocking to the mind. Although the Tiger and Leopard Cavalry had witnessed killing and gore before, when they advanced unimpeded, facing no resistance, their morale could not help but waver.

A line of text involuntarily surfaced in Zong Yuan’s mind—Press the enemy’s sharpest edge with its own force!

He had no time to contemplate it further before a figure appeared before Zong Shou’s eyes. The White-Striped Fanged Tiger beneath this man was nearly twice as massive as the others, its body powerfully built. He too held a saber-like great blade, his imposing presence cutting forward with immense force. The accumulated momentum of tens of thousands of cavalry was focused on him. The saber light lashed out; before the blade even arrived, a thousand-zhang trench appeared in the ground below, kicking up dust! An overwhelming surge of true qi, possessing the power of millions of pounds, descended upon them!

“It’s Yang Xuan!”

Zong Yuan’s spirit trembled; he knew too well the immense power of this man! Yet, his hands moved involuntarily, sending a covering spear shadow toward the attack.

When the spear shadows and saber light intersected, a splash of blood immediately erupted. A helmeted head was abruptly thrown high into the air!

Those around them instinctively looked up. That head belonged to Yang Xuan!

In that single instant, the three thousand iron cavalry behind Zong Yuan let out a collective, heavy sigh of relief. (To be continued)