At Henry's cry, the soldiers' morale was ignited. They followed him closely, knowing Henry would never let them die in vain.
Henry's army advanced steadily through the wind and snow. Their target was the heart of the enemy's forces: the main camp of the Inferior Horned Beasts in the Snowfield Basin.
Only by crushing the enemy's command center could they throw the sixty-thousand-strong Inferior Horned Beast army into chaos and rout them in a single blow.
Glock stood atop a high tower, his eyes flashing with surprise as he watched Henry's army wind across the snowfield like a great black dragon.
'He hadn't expected Henry to choose a head-on confrontation; it didn't match the tactics of the Southern Barbarians as he knew them. And besides, the enemy was clearly at a disadvantage. How dare they continue to attack?'
But he quickly regained his composure and, with a cold sneer, bellowed his command: "Archers, ready!"
