The plight of Tian Tuo's second battalion quickly spread to various places.
In the second battalion of Evil City, Luo Xiao, stripped of his armor, was bending over behind a young master, his face full of humility.
This young master had a handsome face, but if there was a flaw, it was that his eyebrows merged in a straight line, which even a fortune-telling blind man among the lowest ranks of the rivers and lakes would know meant a person of narrow-mindedness.
And he was Wang Lin, the scion of the leading family among the ten great clans.
There were numerous direct descendants in the Wang family, and Wang Lin's ranking was not top-tier. In order to gain the family's attention, he had embarked on this journey.
"Tian Tuo's second battalion? Hmph, Xie Dong is still insecure," Wang Lin jeered with a smile, "afraid he can't snatch the Great Commander position from me, so he has to settle for securing one first as reassurance."
