In the temporary camp, the desert bandits had returned, they quickly came to Kant's tent and reported respectfully, "My lord, they are here. There are about 500 cavalries, about 1,000 elite lance soldiers, and more than 5,000 mixed troops. They look like water bandits."
"Water bandits, how interesting." Kant's lips curled up slightly. He was not unfamiliar with this group of bandits from the Resniston River.
Baheshtur, who was beside him, also said in a low voice, "Lord, do you need us to fight in advance?"
"Of course." Kant's lips still curled up slightly. "This motley crew, could they be stronger than those fellows from the Crimson Sect?" Looking at Baheshtur, he lowered his voice. "Let the blood of this motley of pathetic crew spread across the plains!"
"As you wish!" Baheshtur grinned sinisterly.