General Zhao was dressed in military uniform and armor, with a polished helmet on his head. His face was stern, and he was intimidating without being angry, exuding a sense of mighty and powerful aura.
At this time, he was sitting upright on the armchair in the tent, with eight deputy generals sitting neatly below him.
"General, we have won a great victory today and killed nearly 50,000 enemy soldiers. This is really cause for celebration." A deputy general smiled happily.
"Those cowards of the Eastern Jin Dynasty are simply too weak. Each of them is like a soft shrimp. We can kill them one by one with one sword." Another deputy general said proudly.
A smile crossed General Zhao's majestic face, and he nodded complacently, "This is all thanks to the eight powerful masters who arrived last night. If they hadn't charged into the enemy army and scattered their formations, we wouldn't have won so quickly."
"Fifty thousand! A full fifty thousand corpses! We've been fighting the Eastern Jin for so long, and we've never killed so many enemies in a single battle."
"We only lost a few thousand men, yet the grasslands were flooded with blood. That was the blood of the Eastern Jin soldiers, hahahaha—"
"For this great victory, I'm sure that His Majesty and the Great Elder will reward you handsomely. Then the position of the Great General of National Defense will be in your pocket, Marshal." Another deputy general complimented loudly.
Marshal Zhao had a smug smile on his face, and he was obviously very pleased with the compliments.
He suppressed the curve of his lips, cleared his throat, and said calmly with a stern face: "It's too early to say anything about this matter now. If we can really take down the Eastern Jin Dynasty..."
By then, he would be more than just a Protector of the Nation General. Perhaps the entire Eastern Jin Dynasty would be under his jurisdiction. This position of local emperor would be much easier to sit on than the position of Protector of the Nation General. Marshal Zhao was extremely proud.
Compared with the joyous atmosphere in the Northern Desert, the Eastern Jin Dynasty was filled with sadness and misery.
In one battle, 50,000 soldiers died tragically, which was the first time in the history of the Eastern Jin Dynasty.
Mu Zifeng was lying on the bed, his face as pale as white paper. From the blood at the corner of his mouth, it could be seen that he had vomited blood not long ago.
"General, please take care of yourself."
"Yes, General, victory and defeat are common in war..."
Mu Zifeng waved his hand weakly and sighed faintly, "The Northern Desert is coming with great force this time... and there are even ninth-level experts joining the battle... The Eastern Jin Dynasty is in danger."
"General!"
The eyes of the two deputy generals were filled with misery.
Mu Zifeng smiled bleakly, but a glint of determination flashed in his eyes: "However, it is natural for a man to defend his country. Even if he is defeated, he must fight to the death and protect the gateway to the Eastern Jin Dynasty!"
"But... just as you said, General, the other side has a ninth-level warrior joining the battle. We have lost the battle before it even starts." Deputy General A said anxiously.
"Yes, General, what should we do now? The morale of the soldiers below is low, and I'm afraid something might happen." Deputy General B's face also looked bad.
Mu Zifeng looked out at the pitch-black night, a hint of helplessness in his eyes: "Facing a ninth-order expert, us ordinary warriors can only wait to be slaughtered."
"Don't we have our own ninth-level experts?" Deputy General A asked indignantly.
"Yes, we have some in the Eastern Jin Dynasty as well." Mu Zifeng seemed to remember something and coughed violently a few times before he slowly spoke, "But those people, in their pursuit of the great Dao, have long since disappeared in time. No one knows where they went."
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