Regardless of whether the Northern and Southern Army was willing or not, at this critical juncture, the human forces had to fight the Ink Clan to the death. No matter the cost, they had to intercept the Ink Clan here and prevent them from reaching the Royal City to disrupt the Eastern and Western Army's strategy.
If the Ink Clan broke through the Northern and Southern Army's defensive line and marched on the Royal City, the Eastern and Western Army's plans could be thrown into chaos. In the worst case, they might find themselves caught between two fronts. If that happened, all would be lost.
The Great Evolution Army had two prongs. The Eastern and Western Army had their own objective—assault the Royal City. The Northern and Southern Army had their own as well.
Blocking the Ink Clan's reinforcements from the Great Evolution Theater was the one and only thing they had to do, and they absolutely had to succeed.
The clashes over the past month had not been the Northern and Southern Army stalling for time. They had been doing everything they could to wear down the Ink Clan's fighting strength.
After all, five hundred thousand troops was no small number, and the Northern and Southern Army simply did not have the appetite to swallow them whole.
Over the course of a month, even with all the traps laid in advance and several engagements with the Ink Clan army, the results had fallen short of expectations.
The Ink Clan army had been reduced by twenty to thirty percent, but there were still nearly four hundred thousand remaining. For the Northern and Southern Army, trying to block a force of that size—one that was single-mindedly determined to reinforce the Royal City—was an incredibly difficult proposition.
"This battle will be different from the ones before. Many people may die." Mi Jinglun looked up at Ouyang Lie.
Ouyang Lie replied with unconcern: "Do our soldiers fear death? From the moment the Great Evolution Army was founded, this outcome was already anticipated. I believe every soldier has already come to terms with it."
Mi Jinglun nodded. "But the outcome of a battle still comes down to strength. Strategy and tactics are merely the icing on the cake."
Ouyang Lie said impatiently: "Stop bolstering the enemy's morale and undermining our own. Just tell me how we fight, where we fight—keep it simple. If you go on too long, I won't understand a damn word."
Mi Jinglun gave a bitter smile, paused briefly, then spoke in a grave tone: "If we want to win this battle, there is only one way."
"What way?" Everyone looked up at him.
Mi Jinglun said solemnly: "We prioritize killing the enemy's high-level combatants. Ideally, we take down a few Domain Lords or Eighth-Order Ink Disciples right at the start of the battle. Only then can we make the Ink Clan army hesitate. Only then can we throw those Domain Lords into disarray. Only then… will our Northern and Southern Army have any chance of stopping them."
When he finished, the room fell silent.
Killing Domain Lords and Eighth-Order Ink Disciples was no simple matter. Although the Eighth-Order Garrison Commanders were somewhat stronger than the Domain Lords or Eighth-Order Ink Disciples, in an actual fight, gaining the upper hand was easy—deciding life and death was hard.
If they actually went through with this, the price the Northern and Southern Army would pay would not be small.
Mi Jinglun had not spelled it out, but everyone present understood what he meant.
The danger of this battle was unlike any engagement they had faced before.
The Northern and Southern Army had previously intercepted Ink Clan reinforcements heading from the Great Evolution Pass to the Royal City. But at that time, the situation at the Royal City had not been so dire, and the Ink Clan Domain Lords had lacked the resolve to fight to the bitter end. After suffering some losses, they had simply withdrawn their forces back to the Great Evolution Theater.
Now things were different. The Ink Clan's Royal City was in crisis, and so long as there was even the slightest hope, the Domain Lords would not give up. To crush that hope, they had to strike hard—heavy-handedly.
Ruthless to the enemy, and ruthless to themselves.
Upon hearing this, Ouyang Lie threw his head back and laughed: "Now that we have a strategy, why were you making such a long face earlier? Easy enough—I'll lead the charge in the next battle and find a Domain Lord to kill."
Mi Jinglun looked at him and shook his head: "Brother Ouyang, you are the commander of the Great Evolution Southern Army. You cannot put yourself at risk."
Ouyang Lie laughed and cursed: "Horseshit. I'm a commander who knows neither strategy nor warfare—just brute strength and recklessness. Whether I'm here or not makes no difference. As long as you're holding things together, the Northern and Southern Army will be fine."
"Brother Ouyang…"
Before Mi Jinglun could finish, Ouyang Lie raised a hand to cut him off: "Don't say any more, Brother Mi. It makes you sound petty. I already said it—do our soldiers fear death? When the time comes, as the commander, I should naturally be the first to step up. At the very least, I can set the example of leading from the front."
As his words settled, an elderly man rose to his feet. Stroking his beard, he said: "This old man has lived long enough and doesn't have many years left. I've always hoped for one final battle to bring my life to its most brilliant end. Now seems like the perfect opportunity. Count me in for the mission to slay a Domain Lord!"
Mi Jinglun's eyes filled with emotion as he looked at the old man: "Senior Brother Cheng…"
This Senior Brother Cheng had practically been his mentor. When Mi Jinglun had first set foot on the Ink Battlefield with a Sixth-Order Open Heaven cultivation, it was Senior Brother Cheng who had served as his squad leader. Countless life-and-death battles had ended with Senior Brother Cheng saving his life. Without Senior Brother Cheng, there would have been no Mi Jinglun.
So many years had passed. Senior Brother Cheng was long past his youthful vigor, yet his resolve to slay the Ink had never wavered.
Senior Brother Cheng bowed solemnly: "I request to engage an Ink Clan Domain Lord. I will slay one within the shortest time possible and not fail the commander's trust!"
Mi Jinglun clenched his teeth, the force in his fingers nearly snapping the feathered fan he had carried for years. After a long, difficult silence, he finally forced a single word from his throat: "Approved!"
Senior Brother Cheng smiled faintly: "Thank you, Commander."
After he sat down, another person rose: "I have cultivated a single sword for five thousand years. When it strikes, no Domain Lord can withstand it. I request to engage an Ink Clan Domain Lord!"
"Approved!"
Another person stood—this time a middle-aged woman, smiling pleasantly: "I don't have the same caliber as those two senior brothers, but I have also cultivated a secret art that I've never had occasion to use. This time, I'd like to try it out on an Ink Clan Domain Lord. Commander, approve me as well!"