Braydon Neal wanted to know what the old commander of the Northern Army had been doing for the past ten years.
"Ramses, please bring the princes to the backyard," said Sutton Wall.
"Alright!"
Ramses Mosley personally led the way. They passed through the crescent gate and arrived at the back of the eighth courtyard.
The back of the eighth courtyard was not an empty grassland.
Instead, it was a large factory that occupied an area of nearly a thousand square meters. A thousand people were stationed in all four directions, surrounding the entire factory tightly.
The thousand men were all dressed in black and had black scarves on their faces. Their eyes were filled with determination and killing intent.
Braydon arrived.
The thousand men knelt on one knee and cupped their fists. "The royal guards of the capital pay their respects to the Young Martial Emperor!"
