“Yes.”
Lang took his men and left.
Ron was with Jackie in the big tent, looking at a sand table, speculating where Reese Daniels’ army might appear from, guessing wrong about the east earlier.
This allowed Reese Daniels’ army to slip past.
But this time, Ron’s army had come again, blocking the northern passage.
They must block Reese Daniels’ troops on the road.
Soon, Lang returned, covered in fresh blood, looking like he had killed many but uninjured himself. With one glance, Ron knew the result. As expected, Lang said, “Lang is back, mission accomplished smoothly. The enemy’s provocation force of a thousand, all slaughtered, no one left alive. Also, none of our side was injured.”
Three thousand killed one thousand.
Even with the advantage in numbers, none on their side was injured while annihilating the enemy. This was clearly a one-sided massacre. Many of the Kisia soldiers wanted to surrender.
But Lang never left survivors when killing.
This was common knowledge in South Land, perhaps because Lang grew up among wolves from a young age and learned many of their rules. Like now, Lang was still eating raw meat and drinking fresh blood, extremely brutal.
Jackie also knew, but still said, “Those soldiers, keeping them alive is useless, we’ve interrogated them all, it’s all the same.”
“Mm.”
Ron looked at Lang and asked, “Share your feelings.”
“The enemy, none of them qualify as prey, they’re just prepared food. Too weak, very boring. I didn’t even feel the line between life and death. They just died like that. Some were even crying, wetting their pants, immediately dismounting to surrender. I really don’t know how these people came to the battlefield, too weak, unqualified to be called soldiers.”
A trace of contempt flashed in Lang’s eyes.
It wasn’t that he was arrogant.
But those people were really too weak, pitifully weak.
It didn’t even interest him to kill them.
“It seems this batch was just bait sent to die.”
Ron also confirmed it.
Soldiers like these weren’t worth their time to deal with.
Their target now was Reese Daniels’ army.
“The 50, 000 soldiers I brought have spread a large net in the north. Reese Daniels’ troops can’t get through. But I’m worried there may be some accident and they attack the city tonight.”
Ron looked slightly worried.
In strategy, they had made perfect preparations, covering all aspects. But he was still a little worried because he might be facing the final move by Kisia Primus.
He considered himself quite a character, every gesture filled with military stratagems and decisive victories across thousands of miles.
Among so many generals in South Land, he could rank in the top three.
This proved his ability.
But against Kisia Primus, he also felt very powerless, worried whether he could withstand it.
“General, this battle is extremely critical for us.” Jackie said.
“Yes.”
Ron looked complicated.
This battle may be the toughest he had ever fought. He was prepared to sacrifice himself here.
Yet he didn’t know he would survive in the end.
Night gradually fell.
Like a ferocious beast devouring humans, it slowly opened its eyes, came alive. Everyone in South Province could feel oppression accumulating in their hearts, even somewhat suffocating.
The great battle was counting down. Four hours left.
Stillwater.
The last of the eighteen eastern cities.
In a park near a villa, a limping old man, not that old, forty-fifty years old, but looking overly mature, as if having experienced the vicissitudes of life.
He sat on a rock outside, smoking.
Outside, ten more people stood opposite the old man, all in black, wielding various weapons. The one with twin blades, eyes cold, said, “Nick Abel, you’re really insistently blind. You weren’t originally Kisia people. Kisia doesn’t need you to save it. You’re from the Temples. Lord Fisher promised, as long as you return to the Temples, you can rejoin the Twelve Killers.”
“Hahahaha…”
Nick Abel took a deep inhale, exhaling smoke while laughing loudly, “You make sense. I really wasn’t originally Kisia people, no need to save any Kisia. But…”
His laughter stopped, his voice turning stern, “My wife is Kisia people, my daughter is Kisia people, so I will fight for Kisia. In the past, I didn’t know what I lived for. Now I know, I live for my daughter. If Primus wants our wives and daughters, then step over my corpse.
Nick Abel flicked away his cigarette, exhaling the last breath of smoke.
“Nick Abel, think carefully. Although you were once the leader of the Twelve Killers, you’ve been injured for so many years, I’m afraid your strength is only a tenth of the past. While we have six killers here.” The lead man said coldly.
“Six. Haha, Lord Fisher really went all out for this mission. But of course, capturing Primus’ wife and child is like grasping his weakness. I would do this kind of thing in the past too. It’s just that now I stand on Kisia’s side.”
Nick Abel slowly stood up, walking with one leg limping badly. His farmer’s clothes made the killers from the Temples involuntarily flash a trace of contempt.
Yes. Nick Abel was once very powerful, the leader of the Twelve Killers. But being injured for so many years, his strength must have declined long ago from his peak. This time they would kill this guy to avenge the Temples. A killer from the Temples actually went and married, had children, protected Kisia.
Ridiculous.
“Then don’t blame us. Attack!”
At the Temples man’s order, they attacked.
In a flash, the ten killers frantically surged forth.
“Alright, let this old senior see how the current generation Twelve Killers are, if you are just silver spears with wax heads. Little bunnies.”
Nick Abel also laughed loudly and attacked.
The two sides collided intensely.
But it wasn’t loud, at least not reaching the nearby villa. This was a mutually understood rule, also the Temples giving this former Twelve Killer some face.
They didn’t send anyone else to raid the villa either.
Because Wolfman Guards were protecting it. After all, inside were Primus’ weakness. The Temples were inferior in direct combat so could only sneak attack like this.
In any case, Kisia could not be allowed to win.
But with Primus’ temperament, if he really won, he would not let the Temples go.