"Four hundred and twenty-three Eastern Cold warriors!"
"Twenty-five White Armor!"
"Damn it, is this the power of the Central Plains martial world? No wonder the Great Khan repeatedly warned us not to touch farms, stockades, and forts connected to those major sects!"
Seventh tribal chief Hadu clenched his fists inside an inconspicuous military tent.
His tone was furious, but his legs trembled.
To guard against assassinations, he had never stayed in a conspicuous command tent.
This time, the enemy apparently had no intention of assassinating the commanding general.
But that was not good news, because it looked like they intended to slaughter them all! More than four hundred elite troops had died in one go!
He was the vanguard and had brought only three thousand five hundred combat soldiers, leaving half of them at home.
His tribe was also the weakest. The other tribes each had more than ten thousand combat soldiers, and the Eight Tribes could field nearly a hundred thousand combat soldiers!
Great Yan no longer had the strength to launch active campaigns of encirclement and suppression against them. It could only remain on the defensive.
This was the strength they had accumulated through years of raiding Great Yan.
Yet today, a Central Plains expert had killed more than four hundred of his troops in a short time! And they were not those servant youths, but genuine combat soldiers.
The only consolation was that the enemy could kill people but could not take away their valuable armor and weapons.
He could replenish their numbers quickly. They only needed a few more training sessions before they could become elite troops again.
His sons and deputy generals were trembling as well.
Only those who had experienced battle understood just how terrifying that middle-aged man had been! More than four hundred