Deposed? I couldn't be happier! I wouldn't even be a dog to the crown prince.

"That...that is..."

Jieli Khan's voice stopped abruptly, like a duck being choked.

On the horizon, the white line finally revealed its hideous true form.

Those were cavalry.

The horses were all white, tall and strong, with two thick plumes of white breath coming from their nostrils; the armor was all silver, gleaming with a chilling light under the dim sky; the swords were all from the Northern Liang region, long and narrow, exuding a sinister aura even before they had tasted blood.

Three thousand people.

Only three thousand people.

On a vast battlefield with 200,000 people, this number is like a handful of salt sprinkled into the ocean—insignificant.

Yet it was precisely these three thousand men who advanced in silence, their horses' hooves landing as if as one, that overwhelming sense of suffocation actually overwhelmed the clamor of the two hundred thousand Turkic troops.

The wind seemed to have stopped.

The Turkic cavalrymen, who had been shouting, began to fidget with their horses, pawing the ground and snorting – the instinctive fear of animals towards their apex predator.

Li Shimin stood on the Wei River Bridge, still clutching the Imperial Seal of the State tightly in his hand, looking as if he had been struck by lightning.

His eyes widened, his pupils trembling violently.

As the General of Tian Ce, he had fought battles all his life, seen the elite of the Xuanjia Army and witnessed the carnage at Hulao Pass, but he had never seen an army like this before.

The deathly stillness and indifference that emanated from their very bones made it seem as if they were not human, but a group of demons who had crawled back from hell to claim lives.

"Where...where did this army come from?"

Li Shimin muttered to himself, his voice hoarse, "When has my Great Tang ever had such an elite force?"

"Your Majesty! Look at that flag!"

Yuchi Gong behind him exclaimed in surprise, his finger trembling as he pointed to the center of the army.

The wind whipped the dark banner, and a large, bold "Xu" character in clerical script roared in the wind like a black dragon with its claws outstretched.

"Xu?"

Li Shimin's mind went blank for a moment.

A fierce general surnamed Xu from the Tang Dynasty? Xu Maogong?

Impossible! Xu Maogong is currently far away in Bingzhou, and he doesn't have such a monstrous private army!

Could they be heavenly soldiers and generals?

Just as the Tang emperor and his ministers were collectively stunned, Khagan Jieli on the other side of the Wei River finally came to his senses.

The momentary palpitation he felt just now made him feel ashamed and annoyed.

He was the overlord of the grasslands, commanding 200,000 archers, yet he was intimidated by a mere few thousand men? If word got out, how could Jieli continue to rule the grasslands?

"bluff!"

Jieli grinned maliciously, his fleshy face twitching. "Looks like Li Shimin really has no one left, sending this bunch of opera singers to their deaths! They're dressed quite smartly, though. Perfect, those silver armor pieces can be exchanged for a lot of cattle and sheep!"

He brandished his riding whip, pointing at the ever-approaching white tide, his eyes filled with greed and contempt.

"My lads! Charge forward!"

"Smash them! Seize those white horses; they are a gift from the Eternal Heaven!"

"Awooo—!!!"

A beast-like howl erupted from the Turkic camp.

In their eyes, these three thousand men were no match for them, but rather a piece of fatty pork belly.

Five thousand Turkic vanguard cavalry, brandishing their scimitars, howled and broke away from their main force, rushing towards the Great Snow Dragon Cavalry like a pack of hungry wolves that had caught the scent of blood.

Faced with the overwhelming tide of enemies, the silver army remained terrifyingly silent.

In the center of the army was an old man dressed in a black robe.

He sat on his horse, his body hunched over, not even holding a weapon, his eyelids drooping, his face listless.

Xu Xiao.

This once-ruling butcher, who had roamed the martial world, now looked at the menacing Turks opposite him with a mocking smile.

"A bunch of uncultured barbarians."

He muttered something under his breath, then turned his head to look at the young figure in front of him, dressed in white robes and wielding a silver spear as white as snow.

"Zhibao, His Highness is still taking a nap."

Xu Xiao's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly amidst the thunderous roar of the army: "Don't let the screams of these bastards disturb His Highness's peaceful sleep."

The young man known as Zhibao slowly raised his head.

Chen Zhibao.

Known as the "Little Butcher," the White-Clad Soldier Immortal.

His face was so handsome it was almost otherworldly, but his eyes held a cold indifference to all living beings.

"Don't worry, Godfather."

The spear in Chen Zhibao's hand was called "Plum Wine." At this moment, the tip of the spear trembled slightly and emitted a humming sound that seemed to yearn to drink blood.

"They're nothing but a bunch of chickens and dogs. Killing them won't offend Your Highness."

The words fell.

Chen Zhibao suddenly spurred the horse's belly.

The pure white warhorse beneath him let out a long neigh, its four hooves leaving the air, and like a white lightning bolt, it instantly broke away from the main force and charged alone towards the five thousand Turkic cavalry.

one person.

Five thousand troops charged into battle.

This scene completely stunned everyone.

"He's insane! This man is insane!"

Li Shimin shouted at the bridgehead, "Quick! Go and provide support! We can't let him go to his death!"

Although we don't know where this army came from, they are fighting the Turks after all, so they are friendly forces!

However, what happened the next second made him swallow the rest of his words.

Chen Zhibao and his horse transformed into a streak of light, and just as they were about to collide with the Turkic vanguard, the plum wine in his hand suddenly burst forth with a dazzling silver light.

"die!"

One word, a simple and understated statement.

The spear flashed like a dragon.

"puff--!!!"

The Turkic centurion at the very front didn't even have a chance to react before he and his warhorse exploded into a cloud of blood mist!

It really exploded.

The terrifying force of that shot tore the human body to pieces.

Immediately afterwards, Chen Zhibao continued his momentum, single-handedly carving his way into the Turkic formation.

White robes fluttered, and silver spears danced wildly.

Each flash of his spear brought with it a bloodbath. Wherever he passed, men and horses alike were instantly crushed or killed upon contact.

In just a few breaths, the charging formation that the five thousand Turkic cavalry were so proud of was pierced through by him all by himself, like a hot knife through butter!

Quiet.

Another deathly silence.

On both banks of the Wei River, hundreds of thousands of people looked as if they had been collectively choked.

The greed on Jieli's face froze, and the worry in Li Shimin's eyes solidified.

This...is this something a human being could do?

Even if Xiang Yu were reborn, he wouldn't be any better!

"This...this is His Highness the Crown Prince's...private savings?"

Wang De, who had been following Li Shimin, broke the silence with trembling hands. Looking at the god of war who was spotless in the blood mist, he felt his legs go weak.

"Secret stash of money?"

Li Shimin turned his head sharply, staring intently at Wang De. "What did you say?"

Wang De, with a mournful face, pointed to the large banner bearing the character "Xu": "Your Majesty, I remember now! This morning when I went to the Eastern Palace to deliver the imperial decree, the lame old servant beside Your Highness... seemed to be called Old Xu!"

"What?!"

Li Shimin felt his head buzzing, as if he had been hit hard on the head with a club.

The Eastern Palace?

That rebellious son who keeps clamoring to retire and was just eating mung bean cake?

He raised such a monstrous army?

Just as Li Shimin was questioning the meaning of life, Chen Zhibao on the battlefield reined in his horse and turned around.

His silver spear was still dripping blood, but his white robe remained pristine, standing out exceptionally against the backdrop of the blood-soaked rain.

He coldly stared at the stunned Turkic army, his voice, imbued with inner strength, booming like thunder in everyone's ears.

"My adoptive father has decreed that we shall be punished no matter how far we are from home."

Chen Zhibao slowly raised his spear, the tip pointing directly at Jieli Khan's brow, his gaze as if he were looking at a dead man.

"Great Snow Dragon Rider!"

"exist!"

Three thousand iron cavalrymen roared in unison, their sound shattering the dark clouds in the sky.

"Charge!"

"kill!!!"