They didn't separate by too far, always maintaining a distance of no more than a hundred li.
When they encountered medium to small-sized tribes, they would each launch an attack. If they encountered large tribal settlements, they would unite their forces and attack together.
The soldiers from both camps were like two rollers dipped in red paint, drawing two long bloody streaks on the verdant grasslands.
At times they crossed paths, sometimes they converged, and at other times they separated by tens of li.
Initially, they merely roamed the west side of Menghe Mountain, but soon they charged deeper toward the heart of the Wuliang Royal Court.
A reckless charge, a reckless slaughter.
It didn't matter if horses were run to exhaustion, for the Wuliang Hu Clan never lacked warhorses. They could always replenish their horses from tribes big and small, as long as the men could endure, they would not stop.
