“We’re doomed!” Ji Dengtu yelped, turning ghastly pale.1

“What’s wrong? Big brother Zu still held the upper hand earlier, right?” Ji Xiaoxi asked, confused.1

Ji Dengtu replied with a bitter smile, “It’s hard for an individual to go against an army. Their offensive and defensive capabilities are reinforced to terrifying levels through formations, which is why it’s often said that cultivators can’t triumph over an army. Those as powerful as Zhao Han can subdue armies through sheer power, but the War Priest’s forces can’t be ordinary.”  1

Even from a distance away, he could feel the suffocating pressure coming from the army. Every soldier was emanating an aura comparable to an eighth rank cultivator, and some of the generals were even grandmasters. How could there be such a powerful force in the world? In contrast, most soldiers in this world weren’t cultivators at all. Even the most elite army only had their foot soldiers at the fourth rank. After all, those who had reached the fifth rank could become minor officials. No one in their right mind would continue being a foot soldier. And yet,...1