The allied camp of the Necro-clan.
Since the Corpse Witch clan and the Necromancer clan had joined forces, their strength was naturally immense, with numerous experts.
The commander of the Corpse Witch clan this time was a peak Emperor-rank great expert – Monet.
When Chang Ruo and his three companions launched an attack on the Corpse Witch clan, only three Emperor-ranks from the entire Corpse Witch clan met the challenge.
According to the All-Heaven Pact, unless it was an extinction-level threat, Chang Ruo and his group were only allowed to target Emperor-ranks.
However, as the Corpse Witch clan had an Emperor defending it, even though the Emperor had not fully awakened, Chang Ruo and his group had infiltrated their homeland.
The two Emperors of the Corpse Witch clan, though not fully awakened, still had their pride.
Even if they couldn't directly intervene due to incomplete awakening, it was still easy for them to exert their imperial pressure and cause some trouble.
Thus, Chang Ruo and his three companions, along with a panda, endured the pressure of two Emperors and managed to defeat the three Emperor-ranks of the Corpse Witch clan.
This was why they returned in such a dishevelled state.
The Emperors of the Corpse Witch clan felt incredibly humiliated by this incident. After all their efforts, a total of five awakened Emperor-ranks were all killed by the people of Great Shang.
And three of them were killed right under their noses. Did they have no shame at all?
Consequently, the Corpse Witch clan gathered the luck of their entire clan and awakened four Emperor-ranks.
Monet was one of these peak Emperor-ranks, and the other three were also high-level Emperor-rank great experts.
Perhaps these individuals were too powerful; the luck that should have awakened six Emperor-ranks was used to awaken these four, who were naturally eager to avenge their past grievances.
Monet led an army of 30 million Corpse Witch soldiers, all elites, especially the 5 million Bronze Armor Corpses, who were all at the peak Platinum level.
Thus, the four Emperor-ranks, twelve foundational experts, thirty Royal-ranks, and nearly a hundred King-ranks of the Corpse Witch clan, arrived at the Necromancer plane with great fanfare.
In Monet's own words: "We only need to bring our elite troops. There's no need to bring cannon fodder. Those damned Necromancers have nothing else but an abundance of cannon fodder. Let them sacrifice themselves for trivial matters. Our goal is to not only defeat Great Shang but also to eliminate these Necromancers along the way."
The first thing Monet did upon teleporting was to immediately construct a defensive formation to protect the Corpse Witch army.
There was no other choice; they had been thoroughly beaten. Those unscrupulous old fellows from Great Shang would simply teleport in and attack without a word.
Heard it was still considered good; at least those old guys left after the fight.
But if it were the younger generation from Great Shang, they would act even worse than dogs, extorting money from you after the fight.
Generally, when people from the Ten Thousand Races encountered that kid named Lin, they would try to stay as far away as possible, as if encountering a dog that had just eaten feces, lest they get smeared.
After Monet constructed the defensive formation, he met the person in charge of the Necromancer clan, who seemed to be named Chesterlovski or something.
The name was long and convoluted, and Monet had no interest in remembering it. They were all cannon fodder anyway, and wouldn't live long, so there was no point in wasting brain cells on him.
Monet looked at Chesterlovski and said, "Hey little chick, it's been so long since your big shots were killed, have you had any encounters with the Human Race?"
Chesterlovski looked at Monet with a blank expression, wanting to tell him his full name. But upon seeing the three coffins exuding immense pressure behind Monet, the words he was about to speak died in his throat.
"Emperor Monet, after several of our Emperor-ranks perished, we have had multiple conflicts with the Human Race. Both sides have suffered casualties, and it can be said that neither gained an advantage."
Upon hearing this, Monet's face immediately lit up. He loved hearing that the Human Race had suffered casualties.
"Come, little chick, tell this old ancestor well, how many of the Human Race did you kill?"
Chesterlovski quickly took out a notebook from his embrace and said:
"The armies of the Human Race we annihilated were few in number, but they were the elite of the elites, especially some of the elite spirit beast cavalry."
At this point, Monet became even more excited, praising Chesterlovski, "Good, good, good! Elites are good, and elite spirit beast cavalry is even better."
Chesterlovski, feeling as if he had been injected with chicken blood from the praise, his face instantly flushed red as he loudly reported:
"My division had one major conflict and six minor conflicts with the Human Race. We can confirm that a total of 172 Platinum-rank Wolf Cavalry of the Human Race were killed, with an additional 78 suspected casualties."
"Our division lost 30 million in the main battle legions, 80 million in the cannon fodder legions, and 120 million in various summoned creatures."
Hearing Chesterlovski's report, Monet, who had been smiling broadly, instantly turned as if he had just fought with Young Master Lin over the right to eat feces.
His face filled with disbelief, he said, "Little chick, you're saying that you killed a total of 172 plus 78, which is 250, of the Human Race, and a portion of them are suspected. Hmm, 'suspected' is a good word. Who the hell thought of that?"
"And then you lost over 230 million of your own troops and summoned creatures, and you call this 'both sides suffered casualties and neither gained an advantage'? Do your ancestors know how smart you are?"
Upon hearing Monet's words, Chesterlovski quickly said, "Thank you, Emperor Monet, for your praise. This is what we should do."
Monet was bewildered: "When did I praise you?"
"Rest assured, although our ancestors were all killed by the Human Race, they still trusted my intelligence. Just before they died, they personally grabbed my hand and said, Chesterlovski, point... point..., and then my ancestors took their last breath."
After hearing these words, Monet took a sharp breath and said:
"Little chick, are you sure your ancestors instructed you to command? Or to commit suicide?"
"Never mind. Anyway, I'm not your ancestor. It's none of my business whether you live or die. Now tell me, how many troops can your Necromancer clan still gather?" Su Dan Novel Network
Chesterlovski made a rough estimate and said, "Reporting, Emperor. Our clan currently has 150 million main battle troops, 40 million elite troops, 20 million cannon fodder, and nearly two billion summoned creatures. The exact numbers have not been meticulously recorded."
Upon hearing this, Monet's eyes widened. "My God, they were reduced to this state by the Human Race, yet they still have so many troops? Truly a talent!"
"Little chick, I think your ancestors had excellent foresight in making you the commander. Go and consolidate your troops. We will then meticulously plan our strategy."
"Yes, Emperor. I shall take my leave."
Watching Chesterlovski walk out, Monet quickly turned to the Corpse Witch generals beside him and said:
"Brothers, consolidate your troops. We... we should be prepared to flee at any moment. Partnering with an idiot like that makes me uneasy."