When Lord Jingnan's flag appeared from the west, everything, in fact, had already been decided.
Even though this army had been on the march for many days and were utterly exhausted—both men and horses mustering their last bit of strength—it was truly enough.
Last night, the wild people tried their utmost to breach Snow Sea Pass. They gnawed at it all night but, in the end, still couldn't break through. The cries as they retreated at dawn had already announced their fate.
It wasn't the heavens, nor the Yan Army; it was they themselves who had pronounced their own verdict.
Therefore, without stopping, camping, or scouting, without any specific tactics, much less any unusual pre-battle orders, Tian Wujing, seated on his Pixiu, simply pointed his Kunwu sword toward the wild people's camp.
Then, the Yan Army knights behind him squeezed out the last of their strength and began to charge.
