Execution Missed the Greatest Treasure Under Heaven

Bottle after bottle was used up, but Doudou still looked filthy. Serena Feng’s arms were so tired from pouring saline that they felt limp.

It’s such a pity—every bottle used is one less left.

But there’s no other way. At the very least, they had to make Doudou look somewhat human.

After wasting more than ten bottles of saline, Serena finally managed to clean Doudou up enough to be presentable. Then she silently looked at Ninth Royal Uncle.

Go ahead!

Ninth Royal Uncle spent ages psyching himself up, but still couldn’t bring himself to do it. He quietly asked, “Can you wake him up?”

If he woke up, he’d have to crawl. Doudou would have to crawl back himself. In this state, even if Nolan didn’t have a cleanliness obsession, he wouldn’t want to touch Doudou.

Even if Doudou looked presentable, the smell coming off him...

“Well...”

In the end, it was still Ninth Royal Uncle who dragged Doudou back, because Serena said Doudou wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

Ninth Royal Uncle had no choice—he couldn’t possibly let Serena Feng drag Doudou herself.

Suppressing his aversion, Ninth Royal Uncle dragged Doudou to their temporary camp. Serena checked Doudou over.

Honestly, Doudou was pretty lucky. His whole body was bruised purple and black, but he hadn’t injured any internal organs—just external wounds.

Serena applied some anti-inflammatory and anti-swelling medicine to Doudou, then tossed him aside, ignoring him.

Doudou was just too good at causing trouble!

“What do we do now?” Serena glanced at the still-unconscious Doudou and asked.

Doudou’s recovery ability was much better than most people’s, but even the strongest healing can’t withstand getting injured every few days.

“How long until he wakes up?” Ninth Royal Uncle’s anger was already on the verge of exploding. Doudou was lucky to be unconscious—if he were awake, Nolan might just beat him senseless.

In all his years, he’d never met anyone as good at getting into trouble as Doudou.

“If he’s lucky, he’ll wake up in three hours. If not, tomorrow.” With new and old injuries together, this was really bad. Serena was genuinely worried Doudou would develop a high fever again.

"If we have to leave, someone’s going to have to carry him." Serena silently added to herself: "And obviously, it’ll be you, Ninth Royal Uncle."

Ninth Royal Uncle took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were calm—his anger had vanished. "We’ll stay one more day."

Serena secretly admired him—Ninth Royal Uncle’s mental fortitude was really something.

"Waiting a day isn’t so bad. This is wolf territory, and they’re so hungry they’re eating their own dead. That means there probably aren’t other wild beasts nearby. We should be relatively safe here." It was self-consolation.

Even if this place was safe, they didn’t have time to waste here. They weren’t on an outing—they were here to kill.

Two days had passed. No one knew what was happening with Westlyn’s Terrence Valen, Southlyn’s Damien, or Eastlyn’s Rowan. The three sides clashed, and with Westlyn fighting desperately, a brutal battle was inevitable.

Maybe in another day, Terrence Valen would be pushed back into the Miasma Forest. If they didn’t find his whereabouts and let him escape, that would be a huge loss.

Thinking about this left Serena feeling frustrated too.

Doudou... really was a walking disaster.

Because Doudou kept getting hurt, Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle had no choice but to stay put. They couldn’t go search for Terrence Valen’s old camp, nor could they wait for him to walk into their trap.

Even though things weren’t going exactly as planned, neither Ninth Royal Uncle nor Serena were the type to complain when faced with setbacks. They took the opportunity to discuss and adjust their strategy, thinking through every detail. One way or another, Terrence Valen had to die this time.

While Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle plotted how to execute Terrence Valen, Terrence himself was calculating how to break through the Eastlyn and Southlyn lines.

Eastlyn’s Rowan and Southlyn’s Damien were both excited, each guarding their assigned sector tightly, determined not to let Terrence Valen escape.

No more grain!

Hahaha, Terrence Valen, look at you now! If we don’t destroy you this time, it wouldn’t be worth all the months we’ve spent grinding you down here.

Trying to break out? Dream on. If it comes to it, we’ll just wear Terrence Valen down to death.

Rowan and Damien hadn’t slept in two days and one night, but both were still full of energy. Aside from their bloodshot eyes, there was no sign of fatigue.

"Keep a close watch. Don’t let any Westlyn soldiers slip through—their army can’t hold out much longer." Fighting drains energy, and the "two days of rations" Terrence Valen claimed were only enough for one day of intense battle.

Going into battle hungry is suicide. Even knowing they were out of grain, Westlyn’s soldiers couldn’t afford to skimp—they had to eat to survive the fight.

If you’re full, maybe you can win. If you’re starving, you’re dead for sure.

The day before, morale was high and confidence soared. But after two straight days of fighting with no grain left, Westlyn’s soldiers grew restless. Their eyes bloodshot, tempers flared, and the slightest disagreement sparked a fight.

Southlyn and Eastlyn didn’t even need to attack—Westlyn’s troops were already falling apart on their own.

Terrence Valen tried to enforce strict punishments, but there were simply too many offenders to handle. Besides, a commander who can’t feed his men or give them hope for survival has little authority left.

At this moment, Terrence Valen’s orders were basically impossible to carry out.

Especially when Eastlyn’s Rowan and Southlyn’s Damien shouted across the battlefield, promising: "Surrender and you won’t be killed. Anyone who surrenders will be sent safely back to Lyndaria." Westlyn’s troops grew even more unruly.

Terrence Valen executed a batch of men to assert his authority. It calmed the army for a moment, but their hearts had already scattered—his defeat was inevitable.

After two days and one night of nonstop fighting, even meals were snatched on the battlefield. Not only the front-line soldiers, but even Terrence Valen himself was exhausted.

Terrence Valen rubbed his aching brow and, without looking up, asked, "Wuyan, how many men do we have left?"

"One hundred and fifty thousand." In two days and one night of fighting, half their men were lost—a terrifying casualty rate.

But Bailey Wuyan wasn’t surprised at all; he’d predicted this level of losses from the start.

After so long in the Miasma Forest, even though they hadn’t been poisoned, their bodies weren’t what they used to be. With no chance to train, the troops had grown lazy.

Morale matters in war, but when there’s a real gap in strength, high morale alone isn’t enough. Compared to Eastlyn and Southlyn’s troops, they were outmatched in both quality and numbers.

"One hundred and fifty thousand... Tell me, how many will surrender after tonight?" The army’s spirit was broken, and Terrence Valen knew it. He wanted desperately to turn things around, but...

Fate doesn’t always go your way.

Bailey Wuyan said nothing. The command tent was silent.

These 300,000 troops hadn’t rebelled with Terrence Valen out of loyalty—they’d been forced into it, with no other choice.

If Terrence could offer high rank and fat rewards, maybe they’d stay loyal. But if he couldn’t, of course they wouldn’t give him their devotion.

Bailey Wuyan didn’t say it aloud, but Terrence Valen understood. Still, he couldn’t accept it.

"I thought we could at least hold out three to five days. I never expected to be defeated in just two."

Really, Terrence Valen’s luck was bad. When he led his troops into battle, he happened to run into Eastlyn’s Rowan and Southlyn’s Damien launching a fierce assault.

But ultimately, it all came down to Ninth Royal Uncle. Because of the news of his death...

A single ambiguous report about whether he lived or died could change the course of an entire war. There aren’t many people in this world who could do that!