"If we send all our best soldiers to the dragon army, won't our left and right armies be weakened? If we are defeated before the dragon army defeats the enemy, it will be our morale that is lowered instead," Meryl said.
"The left army, designated as the phoenix army, will lead eight hundred thousand natives. Even if the enemy has two hundred thousand more outworlders, the outworlders' levels are still not far from the regular soldiers' levels. The phoenix army will be led by you, our beautiful and graceful hero, Meryl the manslayer. I believe you should have no problem surviving with this number, will you?" The manslayer was what both Meryl's soldiers and the enemies had called her. She didn't mind the title. But everyone in the army knew that she hated being called either beautiful or graceful. She wondered if this outworlder was oblivious of that fact or if he knew it and intentionally said it to piss her off.
"I have no problem," Meryl answered.
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