Yang Zhengshan did not know what movements the Ke'ercha Tribe was making. At this moment, he was standing amid the ruins of the Heshe Tribe.
The Heshe Tribe was the Hu Tribe settlement they had raided the day before yesterday. In seven days, they had raided seven Hu Tribe settlements, and now they were less than fifty li from the Ke'ercha Tribe.
Yang Zhengshan decided to halt the operation for the time being and rest for a while first.
The continuous raids had left the soldiers utterly exhausted. Moreover, north of the Songyuan River and south of the Ke'ercha Tribe, the Hu Tribe settlements in the region had already been swept clean by them. They no longer had any targets to raid.
Wang Sheng and Yuan Wanli arrived at the Heshe settlement. Looking at the chaos and ruins strewn across the ground, they had already grown numb.
However, when they saw the soldiers of the Garrison Battalion, the two of them could not help stopping in their tracks.
Both men stared, pupils shrinking, at that group of devils from hell.
They really did look like devils.
Their entire bodies were dark red, dried blood crusted over their faces, and pairs of bright yet cold eyes showed through.
Most crucial was the killing intent on them—or rather, it should be called Xue Sha Qi.
Dense, terrifying, enough to make one shudder.
For seven days, the soldiers had slept in the wind and eaten under the open sky. They had not bathed even once, yet every day they had bathed in blood.
One could imagine what they looked like now.
Let alone them—even Yang Zhengshan looked like a ghost at this moment. His Gold-Lacquer Mountain Pattern Armor had turned dark red, his long hair hung in clumps, his once-flowing beard had congealed