"Priest? Aren't you... retreating?" the lieutenant asked cautiously.
He actually guessed what the high priest was waiting for, but wasn't the risk a bit too great? Wasn't it precisely because the risk was too high that he hadn't made a move?
"Wait a little longer." The priest took a breath, a faint crimson glint in his eyes. "Enough time to break through is enough. There's no need to retreat so quickly. Since that guy dares to be so arrogant, how can we not let him show off a bit more?"
Lieutenant General: "."
By this time, the sixteen soldiers had begun to suffer losses and their physical strength was severely depleted. The originally calculated time might not be accurate anymore. Was it really worth taking this risk? After all, they had already chosen the safer option, hadn't they?
At this moment, the Quefeng was moving through the entire battlefield, had a cold look in his eyes. Seeing that the priest had no intention of retreating, a sneer flashed in his eyes.
Demons always believe themselves to be superior to humans because they have inherited a wealth of experience from their ancestors, enough to grant them superior knowledge without any real experience. But is that really the case?
Are inherited memories and personal experiences the same thing?
If the inherited memories can make every descendant as excellent as their outstanding ancestors, how could a clan decline?
Individual differences cannot be changed, or at least not completely changed, by inheritance!
This guy initially took a cautious approach, but now he can't resist taking risks. The reason is simple: he's never been a mature and prudent general. If he were, what would he be doing right now?
But if he's a man of great courage, why didn't he dare to take the lead himself immediately?
To put it bluntly, he's just a guy who's afraid to take responsibility but can't resist temptation.
As he scoffed inwardly, a silver light shot towards him. His pupils contracted, and he dodged at the last second, but the silver light still left a bloody mark on his face.
For a moment, everyone around seemed to be stunned, including the general who had just made the move!
He gripped the silver spear in his hand, clearly still somewhat incredulous that it could actually injure his opponent.
After all, he had just witnessed this person's speed. One person could provide support in sixteen directions. If this person were to fight him alone, he probably wouldn't last even ten rounds!
He was just reacting instinctively, but he didn't expect it to work.
Quefeng quickly retreated, wiping the blood from his face. His opponent was Vermilion Bird Guardian, wielding the most authentic Southern Brightness Li Fire of the Vermilion Bird. Even he himself could not easily heal the scalded wounds. His eyes were incredibly cold at that moment.
He is a person who cherishes himself very much, especially his face.
The general was startled by the stare from the Quefeng and momentarily forgot to order his soldiers to surround it. The Quefeng merely gave him a cold look before quickly retreating and continuing to support other routes as before.
"He's slowed down!"
The priest, who had been observing from the sidelines, saw this scene and a hint of excitement flashed in his eyes. Others might not have seen the situation clearly and might have thought it was just a momentary lapse in judgment.
But he could see clearly that he hadn't been careless just now. This guy's skills had become instinctive. The reason he couldn't dodge in time was because he didn't have enough stamina. Some of his previous extreme moves were now a bit stiff.
Speed is always supported by strength; without strength, how can there be speed? If you lack physical strength and your blood and qi are not flowing smoothly, even the most exquisite skills will run into problems.
Upon realizing this, he immediately raised the banner of continuing the charge, a scene that surprised all the generals of the sixteen routes.
Is it true or false?
Should we continue the charge?
The Quefeng's face darkened. He knew that his opponent was trying to increase the pressure, forcing him to keep going so that he could expose more weaknesses.
This spineless coward--
"Oh"
"Why are you laughing?"
Zhang Xiaoyun's face was gloomy. He was already anxious because the high priest neither made a move nor retreated. To make matters worse, the woman sneered at this moment, which made him even more frustrated.
"How did someone like that become your war priest?" Ziyue asked quietly.
Zhang Xiaoyun frowned. "The War Priest is selected from tens of thousands of elite disciples through multiple rounds of testing before finally reaching that position."
"An assessment?" Ziyue was taken aback for a moment, but then nodded and said, "That's true. After all, in these years of decline, there have been no opportunities for real combat, so assessments are the only way to select talent."
If it's about comparing martial prowess, a simple contest will suffice. But if it's about evaluating military talent, how else can you select personnel without real combat experience and assessment?
Few people who come into this world know the idiom "armchair strategist".
Performance during an assessment is one thing, but actual performance is another. For example, if he were in an assessment now, his choice might be different.
"Priest, you've taken too much of a risk." A soft voice sounded beside Zhang Xiaoyun.
Ziyue glanced back. The person was entirely black, not in the body of any of the Four Saints Guard, but parasitized. He seemed to be a human, and of extremely high status.
Although he did nothing, the fact that he could command the remaining six lieutenants behind him suggests that his status was perhaps no less than that of the war priest.
But I can't remember who this person is at all!
"That's not called taking risks, that's called greed," Ziyue retorted. "If it were a matter of taking risks, he would have acted personally immediately. He's afraid to take risks yet greedy; such a person is extremely dangerous as a commander."
The other party fell silent upon hearing this.
The war priest held a high position; if the martial arts priest were still alive, he might have been able to force the enemy to retreat, but now...
"It shouldn't be a big problem. He's a man of principle. If he can't exhaust the Reincarnator's strength a little longer, he'll naturally retreat. There will still be time then. At most, the rearguard will suffer more casualties."
"Is that so?" Ziyue looked into the distance, a cold glint in her eyes.
She doesn't think so.
"Report!"
A loud voice rang out, and all three of them immediately looked over. It was a tall general, dressed in black Black Tortoise armor, who looked like a small mountain as he strode over.
"What's wrong?"
"There's movement coming from the Black Tortoise Palace!"
"Huh?" Zhang Xiaoyun was taken aback, then her expression turned cold and sharp. "They're coming towards us?"
"It's a massive horde of giant pythons, like a tidal wave. Should we order the priest to retreat?"
"Quickly!" Zhang Xiaoyun was about to speak when she was stopped by the man in black.
"Your Highness, do not panic, it is not time for that yet."
"But."
Please trust this old servant.
"Okay." Zhang Xiaoyun seemed to trust the other party a lot, which surprised Ziyue.
In my memory, this guy was incredibly arrogant, even showing disrespect to the High Priest of Traditional Martial Arts. This man in black seems to be of extraordinary status.
And for some reason, she felt like she'd seen this guy before.
When did we meet?
"Your Highness," the man in black said, turning to Ziyue first.
"You say it," Ziyue said calmly.
" Chen Ying is in your hands, isn't she?"
"Yes," Ziyue nodded, revealing a small fragment of space, within which was Chen Ying was meditating with her eyes closed.
"Please hand it over to this old servant!"
Ziyue: "."