The howls of wolves, the roars of men, the sounds of clashing weapons, and the screams of the dying—all these were heard by Prince Qing, who was riding on his horse. He tried to control his emotions and prevent himself from panicking too much, but his heart was beating faster and faster, completely out of control.

He was not unfamiliar with this kind of perilous situation.

Many years ago, when he was fighting on the battlefield, he was one of them. With the determination and courage to die for his country on the battlefield, he fought and fought with the enemy again and again until he was completely victorious and lay on the ground exhausted.

Time has passed, but the battlefields still exist, the fighting still takes place, and the enemies still exist, but the burning ambition has gradually faded away with the years.

After being discharged from the army, they were transported by carriages and horses, no longer needing to drive themselves and endure the bumpy ride. They ate delicacies from land and sea, no longer sitting on the ground and eating coarse and hard rations as before. They no longer had to squeeze into a tent with a group of sweaty old and young men to spend the hot summer and cold winter.

The "Prince" was carefree and happy. When there was something to say, he would just open his mouth and say a few words. When there was nothing to do, he would admire flowers, play with fish, tease birds, or appreciate the clear breeze and bright moon. He would also gather literary figures to write and compose poems, and reminisce about the heroic spirit of the battlefield in the past.

But when this bloody life-and-death struggle truly came to life from the pages of literature, the prince had already lost the spirit of casual conversation and the composure he once possessed.

He only hated that the enemy was so fierce and cunning, and that his warhorse was so slow.

Although he didn't want to care about what was behind him, Prince Qing couldn't help but look back, worried that the barbarian soldiers would catch up and kill him.

Looking back now, the scene before him truly made him even more uneasy.

The scarred barbarian general, whose cheek was pierced by a dagger, went so mad as to disregard his injury and continue wielding his massive spiked club, even with the dagger embedded in his cheek.

"Get out of my way!"

With a muffled roar, Scarface swung his club at a soldier blocking his way. The soldier dodged quickly, leaning back as the club came hurtling towards him.

But then came a loud "bang"!

Before the warhorse could even neigh, its face was struck hard by the blow, shattering into several pieces, with bone, flesh, and blood splattering all over the soldier's head and face.

The warhorse crashed to the ground, and the scarred barbarian general spat out a mouthful of blood and spurred his horse forward.

The soldier had just stood up from the ground, but before he could make a move, the spiked club had already swept across his face.

The scarred barbarian barely used any strength, yet the sharp iron spikes had already left Gan Bing's face covered in welts.

"Die now!!" the scarred barbarian general roared, causing Prince Qing, who had just turned his head, to gasp in shock.

So these barbarians have become this fierce? They seem to be just as brave as they were back then. He hurriedly urged his horse on, wanting to leave this place as quickly as possible.

But an even more chilling truth quietly emerged in my mind.

If the barbarians are already so fierce, and they previously sent hundreds of thousands of troops to Beiliang, only to have them all die in Yanluo Mountain, then what kind of fighting power must the rebel army that killed them possess?

The answer seems obvious. No wonder the second son, after escaping from Yanluo Mountain, seemed to have lost his soul and kept saying that he couldn't fight against the rebels and that the only way was to stay far away from them.

Thinking of this, Prince Qing was even more annoyed. If he had known this would happen, he should have prepared to leave by ship before the rebels attacked Nanze. If he had preserved his troops and taken them overseas, he might have been able to return to his homeland with the help of foreign troops and fight for power someday.

"Your Highness! Follow me!" Just then, a voice from ahead interrupted Prince Qing's thoughts.

Xiao Yiming turned around and pointed to a small path.

Prince Qing nodded and immediately pulled on the reins, causing his warhorse to change direction slightly. Meanwhile, a few archers beside him were still shooting at the eager wolves with their limited number of arrows.

The path was narrow, and the torches had been left on the road. At this moment, they could only rely on the faint moonlight to determine their direction. Xiao Yiming led the way, and the group began to walk uphill.

The night wind howled, rustling the bamboo forest at the foot of Cangwu Mountain. Just before stepping into the forest, the last thing Prince Qing saw when he looked back was a pile of corpses.

There were both barbarian soldiers and civilian soldiers, and both sides suffered heavy casualties, but this was not what Prince Qing wanted to see.

The barbarian soldiers were indeed fierce, but the soldiers he had brought were the best troops in the entire army. However, they suffered heavy losses in this battle, and they could not take any of the wagons with them. Only a few cavalrymen were left fighting to the death.

Looking back at the mountains and forests, the dense darkness seemed to be covered by a layer of black fog. The moonlight was dim, and the bamboo forest was gloomy. This path to survival was like groping forward in an abyss.

"Xiao Yiming," Prince Qing called out.

Xiao Yiming gently tugged on the reins, slowing the warhorse down slightly. Once Prince Qing rode up beside him, he asked, "What is it, Your Highness?"

After a harrowing escape, Prince Qing's hair and beard were disheveled, with white hair hanging down his forehead, and his face was unusually weary.

"Once you're in the mountains, can you escape? They have wolves, and they'll send people to chase you in."

Without hesitation, Xiao Yiming replied, "Yes!"

"What do you plan to do to avoid their pursuit?" Prince Qing asked again.

Xiao Yiming fell silent.

Prince Qing sighed almost imperceptibly, lowered his eyes, and said nothing more.

At this moment, Xiao Yiming spoke again:

"Your Highness, don't worry."

“Once we get into the mountains, I’ll figure something out. Last time, when the young prince and I were being chased by the rebels, there were far more than just this many people, and we still managed to escape.”

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