Nelson surveyed his surroundings. More and more troops were surging toward them like a tide, and the situation was growing increasingly dire. He knew he could not keep fighting today.
He abruptly turned, his silver spear flashing. After unleashing a Full-Power Strike, he shot backward and successfully broke away.
He cast Ma Liang and Zhu Wuneng a cold glance, a sneer curling his lips. "I, Nelson, will remember this grudge. One day, I'll make you pay."
With that, he swiftly turned and slipped among the other Wolf Bandits, retreating with them.
Ma Liang and Zhu Wuneng exchanged a glance, then spread their wings and took to the sky, pursuing relentlessly.
They were extremely fast and soon caught up with the Wolf Bandits ahead.
Just moments earlier, in a smoke-shrouded corner of the battlefield, Milo's death had struck Clark like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, shaking him to his very soul.
Yet the state of the battle was as plain as a mirror held high. Both flanks had collapsed, while the main force in the center was steadily losing ground under the Soul Masters' concentrated attacks.
Of the four commanders, Bevin Vasquez and Milo Rahman Khan were dead. Nelson Astana had been defeated and was being harried as he retreated. Only the remaining commander, Anderson Strick, was still trading blows evenly with Zhang Feng.
As for Clark himself, the wounds he had suffered a few days earlier had yet to heal completely. Facing Li Jinghua again, he was clearly at a disadvantage.
But the battlefield changed in the blink of an eye, leaving no room for hesitation or grief.
Clark quickly regained his usual composure and decisively ordered, "Everyone, retreat!"
In truth, when Bevin Vasquez had died, a few sharp-eyed Wolf Bandits who witnessed it had already slipped away.