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At the foot of the barren ancient mountain, a group of war soldiers dashes past, raising plumes of dust. Ling the charge is a young warrior, closely followed by several others who gallop along.

"Chief, are... are we heading straight to the Black Mountain Tribe?" While on the move, the young warrior hastily calls to the burly man behind him, displaying a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes, since the Black Mountain Tribe has provoked us first, the Gu Yuan Tribe certainly can't hold back!" The youth strides ahead assertively, his loud response setting the stout man's teeth on edge, who then spurs his horse forward to keep up.

Ding Shan, kneeling on one knee, gazes up at Xiao Chen on the high platform. More than a decade has passed; despite Xiao Chen's powerful strength, his appearance has hardly changed. Those were the times he led his fellow tribesmen through battles, storming the Black Mountain Tribe like a hot knife through butter.