In This Battle, I Live and Die with You All!

Inside the command tent, it was so quiet a needle dropping to the ground could have been heard.

Fu Yu opened his mouth, but in the end, all that came out was a long sigh. He bowed solemnly to Wu Ren.

Li Xuantong gave Wu Ren a long look, his eyes filled with mixed emotions.

"Governor Wu, your sense of duty is admirable. Since that's the case..."

"Great Elder, wait!"

A broad-shouldered, burly middle-aged man stepped forward. A centipede-shaped scar marked his face.

He was neither an official of Yang Province nor a member of an Aristocratic Clan or sect.

He was a lone Rogue Cultivator.

He had only entered the eastern expedition camp because an order from the Governor had forced him to.

"If we let an old man like Lord Wu do this, won't outsiders laugh at mighty Yang Province for having no men with iron in their bones?"

He looked back at the others.

He thumped his chest and laughed heartily. "I may be only a Rogue Cultivator, but I'd say I have some ability. Leave the fine work of slaughtering barbarians to me. I'm alone in this world—no parents, no sons or daughters, nothing to tie me down. If I die deep in barbarian territory, all I ask is that, once the barbarians are wiped out, you pour a jar of good wine over my grave!"

His words set off a chain reaction.

People throughout the tent rose to their feet in a rustle.

"You Rogue Cultivator, you've got some guts, but we're not spineless either. Count me in! I've guarded Eastern Continent Prefecture for three hundred years and crossed paths with those Eastern Ridge Barbarians more times than I can count. No one knows them better!"

"I may be a man of little talent, but