Li Fusheng was the spearhead. Behind him, a thousand Assault Camp knights followed closely. Their charge was like the final straw that broke the camel's back.
The front lines of the Qian army, a strong formation primarily composed of the Zu Family Army, now had a breach forcefully ripped open—a breach that was continuously expanding.
The armor on the Qian soldiers seemed as flimsy as paper before the lances propelled by the momentum of the charge. Their bodies were pierced, one by one.
Time seemed to freeze, yet the slaughter unfolded at an unimaginable speed.
This was the sensation shared by most soldiers within the Qian army formation. The soldiers in the front line watched as their bodies were impaled, lifted high, and then slammed down heavily. They watched themselves being flung away. The Qian soldiers at the rear could only watch as their fellow soldiers before them were swept aside, trampled, and crushed.
