Looking at it now, it was probably no coincidence.
He had previously suspected that these commoners had been bewitched, beguiled, or somehow controlled by the Demonic Sect's illusions.
Yet every time they found a dead village, there were no traces of any spellcraft.
But for so many people to have willingly ended their own lives was truly beyond comprehension.
Aside from the inherent difficulty of historical plot characters, killing one amid a great army was harder still.
So he drank very slowly. Every time he took a sip of "Deyue 1123," a pained expression appeared on his face.
The Western Turkic Khaganate was a steppe tribe with a long tradition. Its Turkic cavalry was famed for its formidable Combat Power, and even the cavalry of the Great Tang would likely fall somewhat short of them in mounted archery.
There were so many matters that his thoughts had become a tangled mess. He did not know where to begin, but for the time being, he did not need to worry about military affairs. With Su Dingfang training the troops, he could set his mind at ease a hundred times over, confident that the training would be completed according to his instructions.
Zhong Ling's heart stirred. He could hear that Dilina's voice was very unnatural, so he could only nod silently.
As long as the carefully cultivated "fingers" remained alive, the Bishop of Sloth could transfer his consciousness into another designated body and continue living at any time.
With a whoosh, two thick-backed broadswords were raised at once, flashing with snow-bright light beneath the sun.
Pang Lan nodded slightly and performed a salute. Led by a waiter, he headed toward the second floor. The first floor was generally open to ordinary commoners, while the second floor and above offered the finest goods,