Chapter 680: All Forces Charge!

In the Qi army camp, panic and chaos ran rampant, the routed soldiers trampled over their comrades' corpses and fled in all directions, only wanting to get farther from the blood‑flesh furnace behind them. The Zhou army's shouts pierced the gore and smoke, rolling across the entire Wilderness.

A thousand Left Martial Guard elite cavalry watched Lu Ming thrust his spear and slay the enemy commander Liu Zaizhou; the blood‑heat they had suppressed for days surged up instantly. After a brief shock, a frenzy rose that seemed ready to burst out of their chests.

"General Lu is mighty!"

"General Lu is invincible!"

No one knows which fierce soldier spoke first, but a roar ignited everyone's emotions.

The shouts, initially a few scattered cries, quickly merged into a mountain‑crushing wave that struck the clouds overhead.

A thousand Ironblood Garrison soldiers raised their weapons together, the cold glints clashing, the roar rolling over the Wilderness, even the clouds above trembling.

The shout "Great Zhou is mighty" wrapped the soldiers' bone and blood, the howl "Kill all Qi Dogs" was soaked in hatred toward the invaders, and the cry "Avenge the brothers of Gancao City" answered all who fell fighting for Pao Ze.

The roars collided, and morale peaked.

In every Zhou army soldier's eyes burned a dazzling light, a yearning for victory and an unreserved trust in Chen Yan and Lu Ming.

They stared at the towering figure ahead, whose whole body seemed to contain inexhaustible strength.

With Lu Ming at the front, there was no enemy formation they could not cross, no defense they could not break.

Today, these invading Qi forces will pay blood for blood!

In the formation, Chen Yan halted his horse, his Xuan Armor splattered with fine blood foam; the morning light fell on the armor plates, gleaming with a cold, hard shine.

He looked toward the fleeing soldiers ahead, his face showing no extra emotion.

The soldiers' cheers rolled over the ground at their feet, making the earth itself tremble.

Chen Yan's lips twitched, a relaxed confidence that everything was under control, yet a scheming unreadable to others.

All developments matched his calculations down to the smallest detail.

Lu Ming indeed lived up to his expectations, cutting down the enemy commander in a single strike, crushing the Qi army's morale after days of fierce fighting into dust.

The initiative of this battle was now firmly in hand; all his prior arrangements had taken effect.

Chen Yan knew that the tens of thousands of elite Qi troops, after prolonged combat, were merely strong on the outside and hollow within; they seemed impenetrable but would crumble with a single thrust.

Find the weakest gap and strike it, and the whole unit will fall apart.

Lu Ming is the knife he uses to break the deadlock, the core of his strategy and the confidence that carries him farthest.

Dong Xuqing and Pang Chong guarded the left and right wings, watching the fleeing Qi army, their blood boiling with excitement.

Having fought for years, they knew such a battle opportunity was fleeting and could not be missed.

Dong Xuqing, usually composed, could not contain his surging excitement now, shouting a command: "Left wing, hold the formation, follow the commander forward, give the Qi army no time to catch their breath!"

Pang Chong's face flushed scarlet, the tendons on his neck twitching, he raised his weapon and roared, his coarse, hoarse voice thick with ruthless vigor: "Brothers, today is the day to make our mark! After the battle we'll reward merit, and wives, children, elders will share the glory! Follow me! Chop these Qi Dogs to pieces!"

Chen Yan raised his hand and pressed down; the sky‑full cheers were instantly stifled.

The soldiers clenched their weapons, all their strength coiled in bone and blood, waiting for a single order.

He swept his gaze over the fleeing soldiers ahead; those who had discarded helmets and armor were nothing but meat waiting on a cutting board.

His voice was not loud, yet it fell clearly into each rider's ear; no one dared entertain even a hint of disobedience.

"All Forces Charge!"

"Pierce the enemy formation!"

When the order was given, the response of a thousand Iron Cavalry rolled across the Wilderness, shaking the listeners' ear bones.

No one hesitated; the soldiers urged their warhorses, the torrent of Xuan Armor surged across the Wilderness, pressing toward the scattered Qi forces.

The iron hooves pounded, shaking earth and mountain, intent on keeping this invading Qi army forever on Gancao City's soil.

At the center of everyone's gaze, Gao Xiaoyu remained stunned, unable to recover.

His face was as white as paper, cold sweat streaming down his temples, smearing the stray hair on his forehead.

His eyes stared blankly ahead, his mind unable to hold any thought. He had thought that breaching Gancao City would let him breathe easy, but instead he fell straight into hell.

The bloody scene just now replayed over and over in his mind, gnawing his nerves with throbbing pain.

Liu Zaizhou's blade, Lu Ming's spear, the cold light that pierced the chest, all suspended on half‑air corpses...

Every detail was etched in his mind, impossible to wipe away or shake off, freezing his bones with pain.

He couldn't understand, nor accept it. How could his invincible Great Qi generals, tens of thousands of elite troops, be defeated so quickly, so miserably?

On one side of his ears rang the wailing of his fleeing soldiers, on the other the Zhou army's thunderous cheers and battle cries.

The two sounds twisted together, pulling at his nerves, tightening his chest, making even breathing laborious.

Gao Xiaoyu hadn't even noticed that Lu Ming, after slaying Liu Zaizhou, had shed the spear‑tipped corpse and already turned his aim toward him.

Lu Ming urged his warhorse faster and faster, his eyes fixed on Gao Xiaoyu, the predator's unwavering focus on its prey, refusing to stop until he succeeded.

At first the hoofbeats blended into the battlefield's clamor, indistinct.

As Lu Ming charged closer, the heavy hoofbeats grew clearer, thudding repeatedly against people's eardrums.

"Clop... clop‑clop... clop‑clop‑clop..."

Each hoofbeat struck Gao Xiaoyu's heart, making his chest throb with a pressing, painful ache. It was a death‑seeking tread, drawing ever nearer, ever faster.

"Crown Prince!" the Commander of the Personal Guard beside him saw Gao Xiaoyu still dazed, sweating profusely, his voice hoarse.

He ignored courtly protocol, grabbed Gao Xiaoyu's shoulder hard and shook him, shouting until his throat cracked.

"Your Highness! Wake up! Look ahead quickly!" his voice trembled wildly, ragged and on the verge of breaking.

The Personal Guard's face was full of terror; he knew that if the Crown Prince didn't awaken, everyone would die here.

With that shake, Gao Xiaoyu's soul was finally pulled back.

He looked up bewildered, following the guard's pointing finger, his eyes widening suddenly, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, nearly bursting his ribs.

He finally saw clearly: on the chaotic battlefield ahead, the towering, hulking figure that had scattered the last group of blocking fugitives was charging toward him.

Lu Ming held the heavy spear with one hand, its tip stained with Liu Zaizhou's blood; the morning light fell upon it, shimmering with a bone‑chilling cold.

The spear tip dragged across the blood‑soaked ground, carving a straight line that pointed directly toward him.

At the end of that trace, it is oneself!

They rushed over!

They are rushing toward themselves!

At that moment, all of Gao Xiaoyu's senses were devoured by fear, and the blood throughout their body turned cold.

They had never felt such a strong threat; it was the temperature of death pressed against the neck.