A hawk swept across the azure sky, flying towards a land shrouded in yellowish-brown dust and sand.
The winds from the Desert North rustled, blowing the withered grass under the hooves of horses to fold down continually, but after the wind passed, they stubbornly stood up again.
Warhorses snorted loudly, agitatedly shifting their hooves.
Tens of thousands of Northern Barbarian Cavalrymen were quietly waiting like this.
...
On the other hand, the Sheng Army led by Zhao Haiping continued to advance.
During the journey towards Wulan Tula Mountain, the vanguard of the Sheng Army began to encounter the Cavalry of the Northern Barbarians one after another. These cavalrymen were few in number and had little intention to fight, quickly scattering and fleeing after a brief skirmish.
All signs were identical to the situation Duke Qii had experienced before.
However, Zhao Haiping had already made up his mind, and of course, he was not going to cower now.