At heart, Li Ao's loyalty to either Great Yong or Commander Bai had always been extremely lacking.
He was somewhat like Meng Zhao: both were self-interested people. So long as something benefited them, they could accept it and gravitate toward it.
Back then, Commander Bai had used words like overthrowing Great Yong and becoming Founding Nobles to beguile and tempt him.
To ordinary people, such empty promises were actually of little use and could instead easily lead to someone reporting them.
Li Ao's family had lived in seclusion for generations and had long since become detached from the upper echelons of power. They possessed only martial strength and were no more than rough men. No matter how outstanding his talent for warfare was, he had nowhere to display it; his path upward had already been cut off.
Thus, joining the Divine Might Army and becoming a member of the Rebel Army had been a choice born of helplessness.
After all, this was rebellion. Anyone who had read history books and knew a little history would understand that this was quite literally doing things with one's head in one's hands. More likely than not, it was a perilous gamble—the kind that left one with nothing.
Across the Divine Continent, whenever a dynasty reached its final years, heroes vied for the deer and countless great powers fought over the dragon. Yet only one person could emerge victorious and attain the ultimate status of the Nine-Nine Supreme, becoming a Great Emperor. As for all the rest, the fortunate ones were absorbed; the unfortunate ones had their homes confiscated and their clans exterminated, even dragging down their subordinates.
Li Ao certainly did not think Commander Bai alone could overthrow Great Yong. That would have been an insult to his intelligence.
Yet the southern rebellion