The night was like mist, drifting and sinking in the glow of the campfire.
Five old cowhide tents formed a semicircle. Two large carts made a barrier in front, while eighty cheval de frises stood behind them.
A short distance away, more than a dozen horses leisurely grazed on wild grass. Two sentries kept watch, one in the open and one hidden.
Zhang Yang's group had grown increasingly practiced at setting up camp. In this tranquil stretch of heaven and earth, they had also become more at ease.
After the previous battle, he had twelve soldiers left. Aside from Kalli, there were the veteran Robert; the veteran Norton, newly promoted to Assault Swordsmen; the two armed infantrymen Bru and Ig; the Mercenary Archer Anderson; the sword-and-shield infantryman Tony; and the Pendor Infantryman Bob. The rest were the militia members Ande, Jack, Ward, Boris, and Hank.
Their numbers had dwindled, but their bonds had grown closer, and their sense of belonging had strengthened. At least, that was true for veterans like Robert, who had once been deserters. Naturally, it also had something to do with Zhang Yang paying each of them wages and kill bonuses.
For that very reason, whenever they camped at dusk, Zhang Yang could confidently entrust the watch to the veteran Robert.
He himself could finally hide inside a cowhide tent and meditate on and copy the Soul Nourishing Talisman.
After accumulating for so long, he felt that he was only one final step away from breaking through to the fourth level of the Soul Nourishing Talisman.
Around dawn, a sudden rumble echoed through Zhang Yang's mind. At that moment, he felt his soul soar into the air and enter a pitch-black world. Then, with a slight movement of his thoughts, a golden bud formed within that gloomy