Beneath the night sky, densely packed ranks of soldiers stood in formation. Great ships loaded with War Machines maintained strict vigilance from heights of dozens of zhang to a thousand zhang. On the lower vessels, one could make out only the numbers on their banners; the ships high in the sky were no more than tiny black dots. The killing intent blanketing the heavens was so dense it seemed almost tangible.
General Xiong led his remaining ten thousand-plus subordinates back to the rear to rest and reorganize. At last, he could catch his breath instead of dying.
Though he had lost more than half his men, Xiong secretly rejoiced.
Heavy losses were good—the heavier, the better. Not only would he receive generous resources as a reward from the Saint Dynasty afterward, his cultivation might even advance another step. Most importantly, he could use the heavy losses as an excuse to avoid the battles ahead. Just look at the sky: the Saint Dynasty had reinforced its forces by nearly two hundred thousand already. They would not rest until blood flowed into rivers.
This little Local Garrison was nothing to the Saint Dynasty. Even if every last one of them died, it would mean nothing.
But Xiong had no intention of laying down his life in loyalty.
He was already planning to offer up more benefits after this war ended, in exchange for a cushy post with plenty of oil and water and no need to risk his life.
Though commanders held high rank and great power, times had changed. In the past, dealing with mortal dynasties had been effortless, but now, one only had to look at what lay before them to know how perilous the future would be.
In the distance.
The Yunling Dragon Vein restorers, who had already become