Slaughter.
Death.
In an instant, darkness enveloped the Donghu border tribe.
However.
They could not be called civilians, for among their kind, all are soldiers.
When they massacred the defenseless Huaxia people, Zhao Feng would give them equal slaughter in return.
Since you no longer care, why would Zhao Feng?
No matter man or woman, no matter old or weak.
Anyone who stands in the path of the blade—kill.
Qin cavalry charged forward at high speed.
Nearing the tribal gate blasted open by Zhao Feng.
And from their former line formation, they gradually massed together, crowding as tightly as possible, forming a long serpent.
"Kill!"
Zhao Feng shouted fiercely.
He urged his horse forward at breakneck speed.
The cavalry behind followed closely.
Arrow storms rained ceaselessly.
Mad slaughter tore through the people of this Donghu tribe.
Zhao Feng was the first to break into the foreign tribe, and upon seeing the foe before him, he raised his hand for a palm strike.
