At that, Zhao Gang tapped a finger lightly and said with a smile:
"Now you're being a little too modest!"
Victory in the great battle had left them all much more relaxed.
After they finished exchanging compliments, Zhao Gang turned to Warwick and Wukong and solemnly thanked them.
To Warwick in particular, he promised:
"I'll keep my word about the gold coins I promised you. You can spend them anytime."
Warwick grinned.
"Thank you for your generosity. I'll save that money for a custom weapon."
They finished exchanging pleasantries.
Long Zhan turned, sweeping his gaze across the battlefield.
Demon Clan corpses littered the coastline.
Black blood soaked the beach, and a pungent stench of decay filled the air, enough to turn anyone's stomach.
He frowned and ordered the adjutant beside him:
"Notify all units. Clean up the battlefield immediately."
"Collect all the Demon Clan corpses and burn them together."
The adjutant saluted. "Yes, sir!"
Leaving these corpses untreated could easily breed a plague.
He had barely finished speaking.
An urgent shout suddenly came from behind them.
"Wait!"
"General Long, wait!"
Everyone turned.
Two figures were running toward them at full tilt, gasping for breath.
They were Liu Chengen and Qian Zhenhua.
Both academicians were getting on in years, yet they were running so fast now that they stumbled and nearly fell.
Liu Chengen's hair was disheveled, and his old-fashioned black-framed glasses had slipped crookedly to one side of his nose.
Qian Zhenhua's face was even redder, sweat beading on his forehead, his white lab coat hanging open and flapping in the wind.
Long Zhan raised an eyebrow.
"Academician Liu, Academician Qian, what's wrong?"
Liu Chengen rushed up to them, bent over with his hands braced on his knees, and gulped down air.
"Don't burn them!"
"Whatever you do, don't burn