Wolf Smoke Slope rose with thick smoke.
Nothing more.
It turned out that the ten-thousand-man army stationed here was cooking and setting up stoves.
Batulu sat by the roasting rack, biting into the large leg of lamb in his hand, tearing off a chunk of meat, his mouth full of grease, then picked up the wine jug beside him, drank heartily and happily, thoroughly enjoying it.
The Warlord had delivered on his promise, doing his utmost for the logistics supply of the Rebellion Army.
Of course.
Ordinary soldiers surely wouldn't have such good food.
Batulu has his own concept of military governance. In his view, pretending to share pleasure and pain, eating and drinking with soldiers, is purely hypocritical. As a commander, one should not engage in such superficial acts. The most important and only duty of a commander is to win the battle, defeat the enemy, and then lead the troops back for a triumphant return, celebration, and rewards. That is true responsibility.
