"Good!"
"Sir, powerful!"
"Sir, powerful!"
Watching the sorry state of the enemy horse, Yang Mingzhi and the others excitedly called out.
And amidst the chaos from the opposite side, followed by a round of scolding and cursing, that Jiala Ezheng mounted another warhorse.
Yang Zhenshan raised his hand to signal a halt, and the soldiers' cheers stopped.
Afterward, he spurred his horse forward, coming to the river's edge.
With a swing of his long spear, he pointed directly at the Northern barbarian cavalry opposite him.
"Come over here!"
"Ha ha ha~~"
He laughed wildly, laughingly with arrogance and provocation.
This was an insult, a blatant insult.
Yet in his heart, he thought, get angry, get furious and charge at me recklessly, otherwise, you're nothing but cowards.
Yes, he was engaging in psychological warfare.
The longer the situation dragged on, the worse it became for them.
