Song Wu stood up, leading a group to the main hall. They were the top winners of today's Martial Sacrifice.
One first place, three second places, nine third places, with Song Wu making fourteen in total.
The fourteen came to the hall, surrounded by the sound of horns and the beating of war drums.
Then the flags waved, and a crowd of armored soldiers surged in, filling the hall.
Chen Chuan focused his gaze, recognizing the same Yellow Turban Warriors who had previously led him here. But now their armor was dazzling, their swords and axes fierce, imbued with a military spirit like sharp weapons aimed directly at the crowd's foreheads.
The impact of this military spirit caused many to lose composure, especially some literary scholars who had not experienced such events, their faces paling and cups slipping from their hands.
