"How many troops have we gathered?"
The Centipede King asked with concern.
After their rout during the day, they had fled for over a hundred miles before finally stopping to gather the scattered soldiers.
"We have gathered roughly eighty thousand troops. We are currently reorganizing them and will strive to restore their combat effectiveness as soon as possible!"
Howell said wearily.
After traveling nonstop for a day and two nights, even he, the commander-in-chief, felt exhausted, let alone the ordinary Centipede Soldiers.
What had originally been planned as an orderly retreat had, in practice, turned into every man for himself when disaster struck.
There were countless stragglers and routed soldiers who had lost their way.
The routed soldiers they had gathered were all those who had acted alongside them. Far more soldiers had simply picked a direction without enemies and run.
That kind of scattered escape was highly effective when fleeing for their lives, but it became troublesome when they wanted to regroup.
Even after sending out signals, there was no guarantee that every Centipede Soldier would receive them.
Upon hearing the number eighty thousand, the centipede higher-ups were all stunned.
They had sacrificed their seven most elite legions as a rearguard, only to preserve this tiny remnant. It was an utter failure.
However, no one stepped forward to assign blame this time. Having witnessed the battle during the day firsthand, every centipede understood just how dangerous the situation had been.
Had they not left their elite troops behind to cover the retreat, the army would never have been able to withdraw.
"If we can remain here for two days, we should be able to gather three or four hundred thousand troops.
"But the enemy definitely will not give us that chance. If nothing unexpected happens, their cavalry will catch