At night, Sun Yuantai sat in a wooden wheeled chair and was pushed up onto the city walls. Gaunt in both body and spirit, he looked toward the enemy camp, unable to suppress the sorrow in his heart.
Now that Heaven's End Pass had suffered a defeat, heroes across the realm were all watching and waiting. If the first wave had consisted of certain powerful local clans whose heads had been muddled by the prospect of being made kings, then now, everyone had sobered up—sobered up enough to recognize the Heaven-Answering Army's terror.
This army was utterly different from the former Yellow Heaven Sect, and even from those rebel kings who had once made their names in history.
It was not merely that their equipment was superior. More importantly, they possessed a terrifying cohesion.
There was a saying in this world: the strong only grew stronger. When you were powerful, aid came from all directions; everyone added firewood to the blaze, sharing in the spoils.
But when you were weak, even allies would leave you without hesitation if there was nothing to gain.
Great Cang now faced precisely such a problem.
The defeat at Heaven's End Pass had exposed the court's immense weakness. Under such circumstances, those powerful local clans naturally could not be expected to willingly use their own lives and the lives of their followers to fill this bottomless pit.
"Everyone in the realm knows that when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. But when the fire has yet to reach their own bodies, aside from true heroes, most still harbor lucky illusions—cherishing their own lives when undertaking great deeds, forgetting righteousness at the sight of petty gain..."
Sun Yuantai murmured.
The great clans and powerful families of the Southern Wasteland—what had become of them now?