Ye Zi was dumbfounded.
All right, he did not think this hastily assembled team of his could defeat the domesticated ratfolk servant soldiers the noble lords had raised for so long.
But being unable to win was one thing; being beaten until they fled with their heads in their hands was another.
Even ratfolk had their pride, okay?
"Why?"
The Ratfolk Boy clenched his fists, and the muscle lines on his arms bulged like coiling dragons. He said indignantly, "We can only take hits? We cannot even throw a single punch back?"
"All right, I'll allow each of you to retaliate with three punches. But you can only use half the strength you use in training at most. Other than that, the more hits you take, the better—provided you do not get hurt."
Meng Chao said, "As for why, first, I want to observe our opponents' strength. Second, I want them to misjudge your strength and grow arrogant.
"Do you still remember the first Red Eye Ratfolk I taught you to defeat?
"Before making a move, you must have enough patience to observe your opponent and gather every scrap of intelligence about them.
"Intelligence is often more important than pure strength. I thought you understood that.
"Third, I can see that everyone is a little nervous. Later, your muscles will inevitably stiffen and your combat techniques will become distorted, so I'm using this method to play a little game with everyone, help you warm up, and settle your nerves while we're at it."
Ye Zi suddenly understood.
Yet he was still somewhat indignant.
After Meng Chao's conditioning, the Ratfolk Boy's body was filled with power like a flood bursting its banks.
Other than the Broken Horn Minotaur Warrior, who had become a shadow deep in his mind, he was confident