"The King of Wei is dead, the King of Wei is dead!"
The chaotic cries spread like tides through the night, unsettling the camp from far and wide.
Zhang Liao hurriedly donned his armor, and before he reached the main tent of the King's army, he already heard the overwhelming commotion.
He felt as if his head had been struck by a heavy hammer, filled with disbelief — how could it happen so quickly?
From the moment Zhang Liao put on armor, mounted his horse to the point of providing support, it took less than the time it takes for a cup of tea.
Yet in such a short time, the King of Wei was dead!
Were the enemy forces so strong?
Or did the Wei Army rely too much on appearances?
Zhang Liao's face showed shock; he didn't think it was an illusion. If one person or two shouted, it could still be questioned.
But with the current large-scale shouting, and no one trying to stop it, how could there be any mistake?
