Across Hedong, a faint scent of blood drifted in from every direction, and countless corpses lay strewn about.
In the Yan Army's main camp, Murong Ke and the other senior commanders sat together, their faces and eyes filled with smiles.
The fighting in Hedong had gone even more smoothly than they had expected. It rather felt like, "I haven't even exerted myself yet. How have you already fallen?"
The Wei soldiers were not weak fighters.
Their arrows flew with force, and the stones hurled by the soldiers defending the cities were equally heavy and powerful. Their armor could be called excellent, and when small forces met, the soldiers themselves proved elite and valiant. Everything seemed perfectly sound.
Yet beneath that outward normality, Wei had not won a single battle in Hedong!
Anyone could see how wrong this was. As for why, one saying explained it all: an incompetent general could work three armies to death.
Murong Ke coughed softly and was about to speak when the tent flap suddenly lifted. Murong Chui strode inside, moving with the bearing of a dragon and the stride of a tiger.
Though only fourteen, the youth radiated a keen edge. Murong Ke beamed at his entrance, while everyone else lowered their heads, as though his piercing murderous aura stung their eyes.
Over the months of the Battle of Hedong, Murong Chui had shone brilliantly, rapidly growing from a junior officer fit only to command a detached force into the Yan Army's vanguard commander.
Everyone knew that the vanguard was usually an army's strongest force, and its Vanguard Commander bore the heavy responsibility of storming enemy lines, slaying generals, and seizing banners.
Murong Chui had surpassed Yan's many Hu and Han generals to gain this distinction because his achievements were so outstanding that everyone had