Pu Lin sighed, saying, "Your Holiness, our Pu Yan tribe can no longer play a significant role in the Allied Forces, please allow us to return to our rear base. We've done what we could, the outcome of the victory now rests in your hands. I believe that justice will eventually triumph over evil."
The Pope sighed lightly, "Alright, I'll send someone to escort you back."
Pu Lin shook his head, "Yan Shi, Yan Li, and the remaining dozen or so Tilu fighters are enough. Yan Shi, you brothers help me back."
The brothers Yan Shi walked up to the Prophet Pu Lin, supporting his frail body, and left with the remaining Tilu fighters. Their retreating figures seemed so lonely and weather-beaten.
After a little while, Xuan Ye and Mang Siu had returned, both with somber expressions. The Pope closed his eyes, sighing softly, "Tell me."
