Chapter 807: One Asura Rider Holds Ten Thousand Troops

Chen Yan tightened the rein.

The Zaojia Horse stopped at a distance of thirty steps from Yang Sandao, and its hooves dug into the Qingshi twice.

He looked down at Yang Sandao from his high position, and the thing churning in his eyes became more dazzling than the noon sky under the sun.

His lips moved.

His voice was not loud, but before the four thousand people, each word entered everyone's ears clearly.

"Law does not hold the masses accountable."

He slowly turned the shaft of his Zhangba Horse Spear in his palm half a circle, and the dark‑gold spearhead traced a brief arc.

"Here, the Duke says, these three words are a joke."

He gave a quick press on the horse's belly.

The Zaojia Horse's four hooves sparked on the Qingshi Shiban road, and the whole warhorse surged like a released iron arrow, crashing straight into the front of the four thousand's formation.

The Zhangba Horse Spear's spearhead drew a perfect horizontal arc during the charge.

The first outlaw blocking the road didn't even have time to raise his knife; the spearhead slanted into his shoulder socket, exited beneath his ribs, lifted the whole body with the long spear and flung him out, crashing into the two people behind him; the three bodies were scattered like straw men in the wind.

Yang Sandao's pupils contracted to the size of a needle tip in that instant.

He saw the most terrifying scene he had ever witnessed in his life.

One rider with one Zhangba Horse Spear drove into the exact center of the four thousand's formation, like a red‑hot iron wedge driven into a rotting piece of wood.

Each swing of the horse spear carried a soul‑chilling precision; the spearhead ever only greeted the outlaws and thugs wielding blades, while the hooves that brushed past the unarmed or merely holding hoes or carrying poles of the coerced Liuren did not even touch their clothing.

This is not wanton slaughter.

It is a slaughter chosen with the precision of a hunter.

The first charge pierced the middle of the formation; the Zaojia Horse made a sharp turn at the rear of the line, its hooves digging two deep furrows in the Mudi, then it turned its head and surged back for a second charge.

During the second charge, Yang Sandao tried to rally the outlaws beside him into a formation to resist.

Seven or eight people densely pointed their blades and spears toward the direction Chen Yan was charging.

To no avail.

When Chen Yan's horse spear was five steps away, he thrust forward sharply; the spearhead pierced the first man's throat, and with a twist of momentum flung the corpse off the spear tip. The second strike swept sideways, the middle of the shaft struck the back of a knife‑wielding defender's blade, hurling him and his weapon three zhang away. The third thrust stabbed; the spearhead entered through the gap in the third man's Chest Armor, penetrating his entire thorax.

Yang Sandao finally collapsed.

He tossed the short knife from his hand, turned and fled.

He ran three steps.

A whooshing sound chased after him from behind.

The Zhangba Horse Spear's spearhead pierced the exact center of his back, exited his front chest, and pinned his whole body to the road, like a dragonfly fixed by a specimen pin.

He looked down at the spear shaft in his chest, spewing blood blossoms; his mouth gaped, and a bubbling hissing sound burst from his throat as his eyes slowly rolled upward.

Chen Yan pulled the horse spear from his body and flicked off the blood droplets from the spearhead.

He tightened the rein, and the Zaojia Horse paced slowly among the corpses and blood, its hoof‑plates clacking "clack‑clack" over the pools.

The four thousand's formation had completely shattered.

The genuine outlaws and thugs, fewer than half survived; the other half lay dead or wounded on the Mudi and wheat fields on either side of the road.

The coerced Liuren had already scattered and fled during the first charge.

Chen Yan laid the horse spear across the front of the saddle, and the Zaojia Horse halted among the corpses.

His Great Cloak was splattered with blood spots, the dark python pattern wavering in the blood mist like a killing deity emerging from an Asura Hall.

He turned his head, looking at the Liuren who had run out then stopped, kneeling far away in the wheat fields trembling, his voice rolling out from the deepest part of his chest.

"Take as many as come, the Duke will kill as many."

He pointed his horse spear slowly toward the corpses littering the ground.

"This is the consequence of Law does not hold the masses accountable."

From the distant wheat fields, cries rose, intermittently merging into a chorus.

Chen Yan withdrew the horse spear, his gaze passing over the kneeling figures in the furrows, landing on the Dark Red Flag of the Mingjing Office fluttering atop Ningyuan County's city walls, just raised by the wind.

Below the flag, Gao Jiong led the Ti Cavalry out of the city gate in single file, their black armor forming a pressuring iron stream under the sun.

Chen Yan handed the horse rein to Hongye, flipped and dismounted.

When Hongye took the rein, his fingers brushed the dried blood scab in his palm.

Chen Yan looked down at his own palm.

"Among the four thousand, two thousand were innocent."

His voice was low enough that only Hongye could hear.

"Of those killed, not a single one was innocent."

He paused for a beat.

"But those two thousand coerced, the Duke still needs to devise a way to settle them."

He turned and walked toward the city gate, the hem of his Great Cloak dragging over the blood‑stained ground, leaving a long dark‑red arc behind him.

"Killing all would chill the people's hearts, releasing all would make later ones think that coercion bears no price."

He halted in the shadow of the city gate opening.

"Gao Jiong."

Gao Jiong flipped down from his horse, planting a single knee on the ground.

"Shuyi present."

Chen Yan's gaze fell on the distant Liuren kneeling in the wheat fields; his palm slowly wiped the remaining bloodstains from the inner lining of his Great Cloak.