The Front Is Under Strain, the Rear Is Stuffing Itself

He not only needed Soul Tools produced by Mingde Hall to aid his assault on the Holy Spirit Cult's headquarters, but also had to arrange an escape route and gather information on the personnel at the Holy Spirit Cult's headquarters.

After all, if those two Limit Douluo happened to be there after he attacked the Holy Spirit Cult's headquarters, escaping would become vastly more difficult. He might even die there.

In the stillness of the night.

Moonlight spilled across the ground like a flowing silver river.

Inside the allied army's command tent, the lamps remained brightly lit despite the late hour.

Xu Jiujiu sat in the seat of honor, her brows tightly furrowed, looking weighed down by worry.

A personal guard in black armor stood nearby, grinding ink for Xu Jiujiu. The scent of ink in the air grew increasingly rich.

"Marshal, the ink is ready," the guard reminded her.

"Mm!" Xu Jiujiu snapped back to her senses, picked up her brush, dipped it into the inkstone, and began writing swiftly across the letter before her. The soft scratch of the brush blended into the warm yellow lamplight.

A moment later, the letter was covered in Xu Jiujiu's handwriting. She picked up the commander's seal and stamped it onto the paper. After waiting for the ink to dry, she placed the letter into an envelope and sealed it with specially made sealing wax. Only then was it complete.

She handed the secret letter to the guard beside her and instructed, "Send someone to deliver this urgent secret letter to my imperial brother immediately."

"Yes, Marshal!" The guard bowed, accepting the secret letter with both hands. He quickly lifted the tent flap and left the command tent.

Xu Jiujiu rubbed her furrowed brow and could not help sighing as thoughts churned