"It's not that serious?"
Braydon Neal's eyes were as sharp as a sword, with a hint of killing intent. "What did you hear and see today?"
Preston had made great contributions.
Arrogant and spoiled.
The name of the Northern Army had been tarnished for many years, becoming something everyone despised.
Those people used the Northern Army flag to form a protective circle.
"What a familiar situation," Braydon said softly. "Luther, don't you think they're becoming more and more like aristocratic families?"
"Brother!"
Luther Carden and the others were all shocked.
They all knew how ruthless Braydon was toward the aristocratic families.
These families were all descendants of the Northern Army's higher-ups.
If it turned into a bloodbath, the army's morale would become unstable.
It was bound to bring disaster.
