General Feng's words were like a cold, merciless iron hammer, slamming into Ren Ye's and Poison Wine Flask's hearts and shaking them to their cores.
Indeed, neither of them had imagined that tonight's assignment... would turn out like this.
Stunned, bewildered, their entire worldview shattered.
Standing behind the screen, Ren Ye stared blankly at Wu Yuanjun, who was drinking with the twelve generals and calling them his brothers. All the goodwill he had built up toward him vanished in an instant.
He had thought this commander was neither a politician nor a powerful court minister, but simply a pillar-of-the-state general who knew how to fight and lead troops. Refined on the outside yet utterly unyielding within, he possessed an imposing spirit that would sooner break than bend, making him well worthy of Ren Ye's admiration.
But now it seemed the man was not only a calculating politician and powerful minister, but perhaps a performing artist as well.
Heh...
Ren Ye shook his head helplessly, his eyes filled with disappointment.
Among the Six Gentlemen, he had spent the most time with Wu Yuanjun. Though it had only been six short days, Ren Ye felt he had learned a great deal here and gained much as well.
The greater the admiration, the greater the disappointment...
Beside him, Poison Wine Flask recovered from his shock. The surprise disappeared from his face, leaving only a mocking sneer.
There was a reason the Southern Border's Court was riddled with factions, its borderlands tangled with competing powers, and its people plagued by constant warfare and swarms of bandits... They deserved this.
Inside the main hall.
Witch Lord Wu Yuanjun drank with his twelve brothers as they discussed mobilizing the troops the next day.
About an hour later, Wu Yuanjun pushed against his legs and stood. Smiling,