Half an hour later, looking at the green corpses by the roadside, Hong Zhijun panted heavily and supported the hilt of his saber with his hand.
He did not even remember how many green vines he had killed.
These things seemed to be endless.
It kept surging over.
Fortunately, the damage ability of these guys was average.
If he was caught, as long as he came out of the vine horde in time, his life would not be in danger.
Of course, even so, the mercenaries and soldiers of the army were still severely injured.
A mere injury.
As for deaths, Hong Zhijun had just learned from his adjutant that the death toll was zero.
Even Hong Zhijun, who had an intuition that the results of today's battle were not bad, was shocked by this number.
The adjutant looked at his deputy commander as if he was looking at a god.
Or rather, it was the white butterfly on the deputy commander's shoulder.
