Meng Chao froze.
"That was the Crimson Dragon Army?" he murmured.
"That's right, that was the Crimson Dragon Army."
Long Feijun gripped his knees tightly with both hands, the veins on the backs of his hands bulging.
Seemingly calm, he said, "When the Crimson Dragon Army was first established, it was positioned as a cannon fodder force, a rabble, the shrimp soldiers and crab generals trailing behind peerless experts.
"Our primary duty was to carry out all the hard, dirty, exhausting work; to engage in simple, repetitive, low-level slaughter with little chance of advancing in cultivation. Perhaps we would not encounter an enemy for half a year, but once we did, it would be a Beast Tide that blotted out the sky, and we had to use our lives to sound the alarm and buy precious time.
"So, that Transcendent from Cosmos Group wasn't wrong at all when he spoke at the Ten Thousand People Canteen that day.
"It was precisely because he was right that he struck our sore spot. And precisely because he struck our sore spot that Ma Hong and the others were so enraged."
"This..."
Meng Chao did not know what to say.
"Originally, the patriarchs of the Nine Great Families had envisioned it perfectly—if the Crimson Dragon Army, this cannon fodder force, handled the simple, repetitive, low-level missions, and when the surging Beast Tide appeared, used flesh and bone to blunt the claws and fangs of the monsters, then they peerless experts and the elite forces they raised could take on missions that, while not easy, had the highest 'profit margins.' They could take an enemy general's head from amid ten thousand troops, effortlessly slay Nightmare Beasts, Hell Beasts, and Doomsday Beasts, then harvest and monopolize the richest resources from these super monsters."
Long Feijun