Wu Heng glanced at the thick plasma still gushing from the well on the ground, not yet fully coagulated, along with severed limbs, mangled bodies, and chunks of flesh mixed with scraps of red clothing.
These were the Red Clothes soldiers who had just been fed to the evil spirits at the bottom of the well and died.
They had families and friends too. Perhaps their wives and children were waiting at home for their return, but sadly, they would never return.
All of this had stemmed from the word "misunderstanding," and now that misunderstanding had been cleared up.
If the wife and children of Henry the Bearded were among these chunks of flesh and pools of blood, Wu Heng wondered whether he would still be able to casually call it a misunderstanding and repay evil with kindness.
But Wu Heng said nothing. Perhaps this was the magnanimity of a tribal chief.
It was a personal choice.
Under Ash's arrangements, the city walls at the eastern and southern gates were tightly defended as battles against the evil spirits broke out.
There were simply too many evil spirits this time.
Ordinary people naturally felt immense fear when facing such evil forces. Though Ash's words had stirred them up and left them holding their breath in determination, the limits of the human body itself constrained their strength.
Wu Heng stayed by Ash's side. When Ash raised his chainsaw against the corpse of an armored soldier, the chainsaw chain snapped straight apart, leaving only the central gear.
He simply wielded it like a strangely shaped greatsword. After smashing apart a skeleton soldier that had climbed onto the wall, even the saw blade broke.
Seeing this, the general with two long, thin tufts of beard handed the greatsword in his hand to Ash.
Ash