"Zhang Yongqing, are you really not going to consider withdrawing your troops?"
A diamond-shaped space formed from green light blocked the crimson flames surging toward them with the force to burn everything to ash. Shen Tang stood in midair, looking down at Zhang He, who seemed to be having a stroke on the spot, with an amused smile. As she spoke, her gaze swept over the other enemy soldiers.
Every soldier Zhang He had brought with him was an elite.
Their bearing alone showed that they were all battle-hardened, steadfast in their resolve, and brimming with fighting spirit. They would not be shaken easily.
When they formed a battle array, they could gather their morale above their heads. Each soldier might contribute only a little, but once their numbers reached a certain point, a quantitative change would bring about a qualitative one.
Morale was equivalent to a warrior's martial energy.
A general or strategist directing the army could make use of this power. More often, however, they relied on commands to bring the soldiers to the state of [All as One], allowing the battle array's Word Spirit to receive a terrifying boost.
If a general or strategist used it directly, the effect would be weaker, and it would also place a burden on the user's mind.
The battle array Zhang He was using at the moment was the Four-Sided Formation.
It divided all the troops into four groups, each guarding one side. Though the four sides appeared independent, they worked together. When one side's morale was depleted, it could draw on the other three for support, keeping their strength balanced and preventing the enemy from breaking through at one point.
At the same time, the four sides could switch flexibly between attack and defense.
As long as there were enough