Ye Zhan was momentarily stunned as he watched the barbarian warriors charge. Then, he couldn't help but smile.
"As expected of the dominant force on the Black Soil Plains. Say what you will, but they certainly have courage. They don't even know how many troops we have, yet they dare to lead the charge. I can't tell if they're confident or just plain arrogant."
The burly man beside him had fire in his eyes as he stared at the barbarian warriors rapidly closing in. His blood surged with excitement.
"If you win, then you're confident. If you lose, then it's arrogance. There's a saying from the patriarch that I've always liked: only the victor is qualified to explain everything."
"Well said."
Ye Zhan nodded slightly, then squeezed his horse's flanks and raised his spear.
"Heavy cavalry, follow me. Charge!"
"Kill!!!"
The three thousand horsemen in front roared in unison, thundering across the field behind Ye Zhan. Though they numbered only three thousand, they moved with the force and presence of a hundred thousand, advancing like a black tide that crushed everything in its path.
The two cavalry forces clashed head-on.
"Something's not right with these riders..." muttered a young barbarian at the front, his heart suddenly pounding as he noticed the enemy's black armor and overwhelming momentum.
But it was too late to reconsider. The distance between the two forces had already closed. For cavalry, a few hundred steps was less than the blink of an eye. Retreat was no longer an option.
"Die!!!"
Ye Zhan let out a roar and thrust his spear forward. The vast energy coursing through his veins erupted, pouring into the spear and transforming into a crimson dragon that roared through the air.
The fourth-level barbarian warrior in front of him didn't even have time to react before the blood dragon swallowed his upper body whole.
"Agura!"
The barbarian warriors gasped in horror, eyes filled with shock and fear at the sight of their strongest warrior being instantly obliterated.
But their terror was just beginning.
Heavy cavalry could only be countered by heavy cavalry. And the force Su Xingyu had painstakingly forged was the finest the Ye Tribe had ever produced—superior in strength, equipment, and training.
The cavalry raised their spears just before the collision.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
They crashed into the enemy ranks like an unstoppable bulldozer in a wheat field. Anyone standing in their path was either skewered, sent flying, or crushed beneath iron hooves into unrecognizable pulp.
Despite the horror, the barbarian warriors lived up to their reputation as the Overlords of the Black Soil. Even in the face of certain death, they swung their blades in the final moments of their lives, determined to drag an enemy down with them.
But despair quickly set in.
Their swords sparked uselessly against the enemy's armor. The heavy cavalry's defense was impenetrable.
"How is this possible?!" the young barbarian cried in disbelief as the warriors around him fell one after another. "How could the Red River Alliance field such a powerful cavalry force? I don't believe it!"
"This is heavy cavalry... but how could such an elite unit exist in the desolate lands? Where did they get so much iron?" The middle-aged man beside him turned pale, his voice tinged with despair.
"Offer their heads to the king!"
With a furious cry, Ye Zhan threw away his spear, drew his longsword, and became a whirlwind of destruction among the enemy ranks. With every swing, several enemies fell.
The death of the barbarian tribe's only fourth-level warrior shattered any hope of resistance. From that moment on, they had no chance, especially in a night battle.
Victory tilted sharply toward the Ye Tribe from the very first clash, and it was clear the battle had entered its final stages—mere cleanup, with no possibility of reversal.
Ye Zhan led the strongest elite force of the Ye Tribe, unmatched in morale, equipment, and sheer combat power.
The barbarian cavalry, despite launching the first charge, were crushed in an instant.
With the frontline shattered, the rest of the Ye Tribe cavalry followed, storming into the fray.
An hour later, the war was over.
More than 2,000 enemy warriors were slain, nearly 6,000 captured, and fewer than 100 of Ye Zhan's troops were killed or injured. A glorious, overwhelming victory.
Then, as the dust settled, the sky darkened.
Thick clouds rolled in and covered the sun. A divine shadow—vast and impossible to gaze upon—descended from the heavens. Then it dissolved into thousands of raindrops that gently fell, merging with the bodies of the Night Tribe warriors.
Wounds began healing instantly, right before everyone's eyes.
Nearly a thousand warriors broke through their current cultivation realm on the spot. Those who didn't still felt their progress surge forward by leaps.
And then, in each of their minds, two simple words echoed like a divine whisper:
"Good."
The voice was calm and devoid of emotion, yet it stirred something deep within every warrior.
Ecstatic, they fell to their knees or cried out in exultation, their blood boiling with fervor.
"My Lord is eternal!!!"
The chant began as a murmur but grew into a tidal wave.
"My Lord is eternal!!!"
"My Lord is eternal!!!"
Watching the frenzied warriors of the Night Tribe, the captured barbarians finally knew fear. Genuine, soul-deep fear.
One particularly thin, middle-aged captive looked around at the now radiant battlefield, eyes filled with disbelief.
"Gods? In this desolate place? What in the world is happening?!"
Suppressing his own exhilaration, Ye Zhan turned to his adjutant.
"Take all the prisoners back to the Black Earth Stronghold. The chief should be arriving soon. Stay alert. If nothing goes wrong, we'll be attacking the barbarian tribe next."
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The soldiers roared with renewed energy.
Still, Ye Zhan harbored a few doubts. The barbarians had ruled the Black Soil Plains for years. Their true strength couldn't be underestimated.
But after a single battle, the so-called overlords had been thoroughly broken.
So this is their might?
Hmph. Watch me bring down the barbarian tribe and offer it up to my God.
A sharp cry pierced the air.
A powerful gust swept through the field as a massive eagle descended from the sky, its sharp claws and bloodstained feathers glinting under the dark clouds.
The sight drained what little hope remained in the barbarians' hearts. Some had believed that reinforcements would arrive from their tribe. But now, that seemed like a delusion.
"Ye Shiliu, go find the general among the captives. The chief may want to speak to him later," Ye Zhan ordered calmly.
"Why not just lock him up?" Ye Shiliu asked with a frown.
"Interrogate him first. We already have some knowledge of the barbarian tribe, but it's superficial at best. We still don't understand the finer details. Charging in blindly would be unwise."
Ye Zhan cast a meaningful glance at him.
"Alright, leave it to me," Ye Shiliu replied, nodding, though he still didn't fully understand.
"Go."
Ye Zhan sighed softly and waved him off. In that moment, he finally understood how the elders must have felt all those years ago.