As it turned out, this sudden crisis was even more serious than anyone had imagined.
Warrior Hall had always been an important instrument the sect used to wage war. Large numbers of its members served among the patrol guards, patrol scouts, and even the formation soldiers of the Temporary Camp.
Once they withdrew, the Vanguard Camp immediately became blind and deaf, losing all control over the surrounding mountains and forests. The enemy, meanwhile, could easily bypass the camp and head straight into the Southern Wilds without worrying about having their retreat cut off or being intercepted.
Even if Fang Qianyuan had three heads and six arms, he could hardly scout and defend a region spanning ten thousand miles alone. The few dozen personal guards at his side, together with some aristocratic clan elites and sect disciples from the Northern Frontier, could not manage it either.
There was another reason he could not conveniently voice: most of those remaining were honored elders of lofty rank and status, or scions of various aristocratic clans. Fang Qianyuan could hardly send them off on overly dangerous missions, making them far less convenient to deploy than warriors.
Most of Warrior Hall's soldiers came from the secular world, the rough wilderness, or impoverished families and orphaned backgrounds. They had always shouldered the sect's most dangerous and intense combat missions. Without them, accomplishing anything with the forces he had left would truly be difficult.
Indignant as he was, Fang Qianyuan did not hate those warrior soldiers. He hated only their leadership and the hidden hands manipulating schemes behind the scenes.
Fang Qianyuan also understood that his most urgent task was to make a decision quickly and mitigate the consequences of losing control of the warriors, not to fly into a senseless rage.
He soon summoned everyone in