"Has there still been no word from the main army?"
"No. Now Xiao Lin has retaken Wumeng City ahead of us. Next, he might counterattack the main army to lift the siege of Hengyang City. Sigh! One piece of terrible news after another."
"Does our attack on the Han Palace Royal Court really not worry Xiao Lin? Or does he truly think Nalan Hongchuo alone can defend it?"
As it happened, as long as Jiang Hao could not shake off Nalan Hongchuo, this surprise attack on the Han Palace Royal Court might very well end here.
The two looked at Jiang Hao with his eyes closed, their minds tangled with worries and countless thoughts.
Meanwhile, Jiang Hao was trapped in a strange place. There were no green waters and verdant mountains, no expanses of gleaming snow, only wasteland and desert.
Behind him was the Self-Defense Army, which had grown to three hundred thousand strong. Beneath the blazing sun, in this desperately water-starved environment, the soldiers trudged numbly forward. Every so often, someone collapsed from dehydration and heatstroke.
Even those given the Healing Art after collapsing could not get back up. Jiang Hao gazed blankly around him. At this moment, he was like a spectator, watching himself lead his army across this endless desert wasteland.
A north wind suddenly rose, filling the sky with yellow sand. A sandstorm descended, shrouding the entire sky in darkness. Walking over the rolling dunes became a struggle. Sand lashed their faces and poured into their mouths and noses, making it difficult to breathe. They dared not even gasp, for opening their mouths or drawing breath through their noses meant taking in mouthfuls of sand.
An unknown stretch of time passed before the sandstorm gradually faded. By then, dusk had fallen. The sun sank westward, its