Only after Hong Tianzheng happily tucked the secret manual into his robes did Meng Zhao ask about the Divine Might Army's movements over this period, especially the changes in attitude among its upper ranks.
Though he had already obtained some intelligence and believed he could keep the overall situation under control, Commander Bai was no easy opponent. Having suffered such a crushing loss, with the forces he had painstakingly prepared seized by Meng Zhao, he would surely take some action.
Putting himself in the other man's shoes, if Meng Zhao were in Commander Bai's position, he would certainly try to contact old associates, plant spies and chess pieces around Meng Zhao, and sow internal division. After all, Meng Zhao's foundation in the Divine Might Army was shallow. Other than those five thousand Danchi warriors, none of the other soldiers would give him any face.
For one thing, he had held his position for too short a time and had not established much prestige. For another, he could not reveal his identity. Thus, it was unrealistic to win the support of the rank-and-file soldiers by suppressing the higher-ups.
All he relied on was the six guard generals to indirectly control this formidable army.
He was like an alliance leader; the cohesion of those under his command was far inferior to that of the Yangwu Army. That was also where the flaw lay.
After all, the human heart was hard to pin down. No one could predict whether a person was a god or a ghost.
There was no helping it. These were the hidden dangers brought about by Meng Zhao forcibly seizing another's foundation. If not for his confidence in his formidable martial arts, as well as the pressure exerted by his background and power, he would not have dared leave