I will make Qin Shi Huang immortal in the Great Qin Dynasty.

When Meng Tian arrived at the northern Great Wall defense line, he didn't even enter the camp.

He summoned all the generals who participated in this decisive battle on the grasslands directly to the training ground.

They traveled non-stop for three days and three nights.

His armor was still covered in dust from the road, and his face bore the marks of a long journey.

"Twenty thousand light cavalry, divided into twenty squads, each with a thousand men, and three horses per man. Tomorrow morning, they will all enter the grasslands."

The generals responded in unison.

No one hesitated; they had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Those weapons that had been honed countless times in the camp.

Those formations that had been practiced countless times on the training ground.

Those tactics that were discussed countless times under the night lights.

All of it will, at that very moment tomorrow morning, transform from language into hooves and arrowheads.

The next day, before dawn, the camp gates were opened.

Twenty cavalry squads poured out of the camp gate one after another, their hooves pounding on the withered grassland.

Each squad consisted of a thousand riders, with one rider and three horses, and the three thousand warhorses spread out in a magnificent procession across the grassland.

Like a dark tide surging from the edge of the earth, it silently spread northward.

There were no flags waving, no bugles blaring, only the sound of horses' hooves and the soft rustling of armor.

It spread across the grassland in the early morning, like a rope slowly hooking life.

One of the squads was led by a man surnamed Yang, who came from the northern border of the Qin Dynasty.

Meng Tian had read his resume and had personally met him several times on the training ground.

They thought this person was useful, so they placed him in the position of commander of this thousand-man squad.

Commander Yang is only twenty-seven years old this year, and he is tall and sturdy.

His hawk-like eyes gave off a cold, piercing look when he looked at people.

That was a vigilance unique to many officers who had spent a long time in border military camps.

His family was killed a few years ago during a southward invasion of the Xiongnu.

That winter, he went on an inspection tour with the army.

When they returned home, all that remained were a section of burnt-down roof beam and a few broken pottery shards scattered in the yard.

His parents failed to escape, and his thirteen-year-old sister was kidnapped and never heard from again.

He hasn't shed a single tear since that day.

He simply returned to the military camp, becoming more silent and training even harder than before.

Later, the Qin Dynasty developed the Yuanli Guiding Technique.

He was selected as one of the first to promote cultivation practices within the military.

Then, day after day, he circulated his energy throughout his body, accumulating vital energy.

He crossed the threshold of the Yuan Disciple realm in a shorter time than others.

Meng Tian personally tested his strength and reflexes and felt that he could handle things on his own.

He then entrusted him with the responsibility of leading these thousand cavalry.

At this moment, Commander Yang was riding a tall, black warhorse.

He was clad in light iron armor, with a spare steel short sword hanging at his waist, and a ten-foot-long halberd in his right hand.

The halberd's head was made of fine steel, gleaming coldly, and felt very heavy in the hand.

The entire halberd weighs 120 jin (approximately 60 kg), and it would be difficult for an ordinary person to even lift it, let alone wield it.

But for a martial artist at the Yuan Tu level, 120 jin (60 kg) is not much different from a bamboo pole.

It can be swung with great force with one hand, and the slashing, thrusting, and parrying can be done in one smooth motion without much effort.

He actually preferred the heavy hammers with iron chains that the Imperial Guards used.

Swinging a hammer that weighs hundreds of kilograms is truly exhilarating.

With a single sweep of the hammer, both man and horse were overturned, leaving no room for the opponent to struggle.

However, he was riding a warhorse, and the horse was not a strong person at the Yuan Tu realm, so it could not carry the several hundred pounds of iron hammer and his armor.

He could only make do with this halberd for the time being.

He has led a thousand cavalrymen deep into the grasslands for three days.

Over three days they passed through several abandoned campsites.

There were ashes from the campfire and scattered animal bones, but no living people were found.

The grasslands were vast, and the Xiongnu people lived by following the water and grass.

A tribe may migrate from one pasture to another, sometimes over distances of tens or even hundreds of miles.

There are no fixed cities or strongholds.

Finding it is like finding a pebble of a different color in a bowl of sand.

On the evening of the fourth day, the scouts from ahead galloped back.

He reined in Yang's horse and said in a low voice, "Fifteen li ahead, there is a Xiongnu tribe, about a thousand people. There are about three hundred able-bodied men on horseback, the rest are women, children, and the elderly."

Commander Yang's eyes flickered slightly.

He gripped the halberd tightly for a moment, then slowly loosened his grip.

He didn't ask any further questions, simply replying with a single word: "Go."

The thousand cavalrymen went from a slow march to a rapid one.

The sound of three thousand warhorses accelerating simultaneously was like a deep rumble of thunder.

They surged toward that direction across the grassland.

A moment later, you can see the pointed tops of tents and the first wisp of smoke rising slowly from the horizon in the distance.

The tribe was settled on a flat area near a small river.

The tents were arranged in a staggered manner, and were simply surrounded by a wooden fence.

It was neither a defensive fortification nor a city wall, but simply a row of wooden stakes used to stop livestock.

Smoke was rising from the largest tent in the middle, drifting into the twilight.

They remained calm, unaware of the impending danger.

Commander Yang did not slow down.

He reined in his horse and stood at the front of the formation, raising his halberd in his right hand and pointing it forward.

The thousand riders behind them accelerated simultaneously, charging towards the tribe like an iron spear suddenly thrust out.

The sound of horses' hooves pounding on the grassland suddenly grew louder in the twilight, and the earth trembled slightly.

Like a giant drum being struck, the sound pierced through the twilight and cooking smoke.

It slammed straight into the eardrums of every Hunnic in the tribe who was still in shock.

The tribe was instantly in an uproar.

Someone rushed out of the tent, barefoot, carrying a bow and quiver, and mounted a horse.

Someone shouted loudly, as if calling for their companions to gather.

Someone hurriedly shoved the child into the tent, pulled the curtain shut, and grabbed a stick to stand at the door.

The group of about three hundred able-bodied young men who were skilled in riding and archery assembled in just a few breaths.

He mounted his horse, drew his bow and arrow, his eyes filled with the vigilance and ferocity unique to facing invaders.

But what separated them from the Qin cavalry was far more than just a few hundred paces.

Commander Yang's cold gaze swept over the Hun cavalry who were hastily forming ranks.

Without giving any complicated instructions, he simply raised his right arm high and then brought it down sharply.

"Release the arrows."

The first two ranks of the thousand riders simultaneously drew their bows as they charged.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized; arrows were nocked on the bowstrings, and the bow creaked.

Their warhorses were still running, their hooves still pounding the ground.

But their upper bodies remained as steady as a rock, their gaze aligned with the direction of the arrows.

They locked onto the Hun cavalrymen ahead, who were frantically forming ranks.

The strings resonate.