The personal soldier stretched out his neck and called out several times before people began to emerge slowly from the earthen house, gradually forming a group in front of Wei Yuan.
"Line up neatly! Step forward, why are you hiding in the back? Let the Immortal see you clearly! Are you asking for trouble?"
Actually, from the moment these soldiers emerged from the earthen house, Wei Yuan's heart had already sunk. Now standing before him was a sparse group of barely thirty individuals: old and young alike, with the few in their prime looking gaunt, their eyes devoid of any vigor. These Box Soldiers wore loose-fitting armor, their belts not even tightly fastened, and only a few carried personal weapons, resembling ox-horn knives, not the straight swords issued by the Western Jin.