The morning sun was as red as blood.
The cooking smoke faded away.
All the soldiers buried their pots and cooked, and after a hearty meal, they hurriedly packed up, saddled their horses, put on armor, and formed ranks to prepare for departure.
"Everyone, since the Hu People invaded southward, Celestial Gate fell, Yang Mountain was massacred, Hot Spring turned to ashes, and the people of the Three Prefectures became like pigs and dogs. What we've seen and heard makes one clench their fists in frustration…"
Chen Ping sat on his horse at the front of the army, his voice like rolling thunder echoing across the open fields for a hundred miles, causing the forty thousand elite cavalry to stand solemnly, their hearts involuntarily filled with a sense of sorrow.
In their hearts lay a boundless hatred.
