"As long as we make it through this, everyone will be able to eat well and drink well!"
Dong Huaiming's face was as pale as gold paper, without a trace of color, yet he still did not stop. "Every enemy you kill is a military achievement. The more you kill, the more certain it is that, once this battle is over, you'll be granted titles and rewards, and your families will benefit!"
"Everyone who bravely kills the enemy will enjoy endless wealth and honor!"
As soon as he finished speaking, someone nearby began shouting and repeating his words.
It was nothing more than the usual talk of earning wealth and glory, being promoted, and making a fortune by killing the enemy and gaining military merit.
Those words meant to boost morale were somewhat crude, simple, and blunt, but they were very useful to the soldiers of this era.
The rebel army, which occupied half of Xizhou, already had no worries about food and drink. Many had already lost the motivation to strive. If they could eat their fill and stay warm without starving or freezing to death, why would they risk their lives on the battlefield? In an age when literacy was extremely low, most commoners were illiterate and certainly had no lofty ideal of "dying for one who recognizes your worth."
Unless those above were willing to pay more, offering generous rewards to spur the soldiers into fighting desperately.
The slogans the Demon Son shouted were highly rousing and infectious, but everyone was constrained by their ingrained understanding.
They had all come from humble backgrounds. Why should they risk their lives here while letting others enjoy the fruits of their labor?
Did he really think everyone was a saint?
Zhang Kuang possessed a lofty vision.
He had overthrown the