Boom! Boom! Boom!
Puffs of white smoke suddenly erupted from the frontline of the West Liang Army, and a multitude of Yan Cavalry charging from hundreds of steps away fell like wheat before the scythe of Death, a large swath of them collapsing in unison.
Yet the Yan Cavalry behind seemed unfazed, their eyes filled with rage as they hoisted their long spears high, ruthlessly spurring their mounts with the spurs affixed to their boots' heels, maintaining their steeds in the wildest of frenzies.
Such brutal tactics were extraordinarily abnormal for a Yan Cavalry, who ordinarily loved his war horse more than wife and children.
For once a mount is spent, it might collapse and never rise again, dead or utterly ruined.
But they had no choice!
The West Liang Army's firearm division in front had weathered five consecutive charges by the Yan Cavalry and stood unwavering.
And in front of their military formation lay countless bodies of Yan State's soldiers.
