“Damn it, let’s go all out!” Charles Carter spun his broadsword, and with a ripping sound, a chunk of flesh was sliced off Commander Smith’s foot.

However, Charles Carter was also kicked by Commander Smith and sent flying over ten meters, crashing into a supply wagon.

Instantly, he felt a bit dizzy. It seemed as if black, coal-like lumps were scattered all over the ground from the impact.

He wiped his eyes and saw that a box had burst open, revealing it was filled with wooden and stone objects. Charles Carter glanced over them—there were at least ten pieces, each the size of a fist.

He looked around and noticed that only this box hidden among the supplies contained such wooden and stone items. The other supply wagons had none. He figured this must be some private stash belonging to Commander Smith.

Without hesitation, he started digging furiously in the sand. Soon, he had dug a pit, quickly hid all the wooden and stone items inside, and covered them back up with sand.

Looking up again, he saw Peter King and Paul Moore entangled with the blood-soaked Commander Smith, all three rolling in the sand. They were all covered in blood.

“Kill!” At that moment, Thomas Ward shouted, swung his broadsword, and aimed for Commander Smith’s head. A jet of blood spurted out, and after a few spasms, Commander Smith finally died.

Meanwhile, both Peter King and Paul Moore had their limbs broken, and their hands were torn to shreds, the sight making Charles Carter’s scalp tingle.

He quickly shouted, grabbed his sword, killed an ordinary soldier, and ran over. He picked up Commander Smith’s head and hurled it into the air, shouting, “Commander Smith is dead! Brothers, kill them all!”

With Charles Carter’s shout, the remaining dozens of Great Yuan soldiers looked up and indeed saw Commander Smith’s bleeding head. Instantly, leaderless, their morale collapsed, and they all fled in a panic.

Charles Carter led his troops in hot pursuit for a kilometer, and only when he saw that Commander Smith’s men were down to thirty or forty did he call off the chase.

However, after counting, he found that his own side had only about thirty men left. Compared to Commander Smith’s losses, they still had a slight advantage.

“Gather the supplies, take the good stuff back!” Charles Carter shouted.

He secretly dug up the wooden and stone items and hid them away, then led the group back in triumph with over a dozen wagons of supplies.

Charles Carter’s triumphant return and his success in eliminating a master like Commander Smith greatly boosted the morale in General Grant’s camp.

Upon receiving the scout’s report, General Grant personally led the four major generals of the camp to welcome Charles Carter back.

“Well done!” General Grant personally pulled up the half-kneeling Charles Carter, waved his hand, the war drums stopped, and the general, looking imposing, swept his gaze over everyone and said, “I announce that from today, Charles Carter is promoted to Centurion of the Ninth Rank, commanding one hundred elite Black Banner troops. I will report this to the Northern Capital’s Provincial Governor and the Deputy Commander of the Northern Capital’s Military Command.”

Thunderous applause erupted. The Northern Capital province oversaw the Eshan region, and Provincial Governor Jiang Chengzhong and Deputy Commander Yang Zhi of the Commander’s Office were both high-ranking officials of the Second Rank. If Charles Carter’s name was reported, he could get acquainted with these two lords in advance.

Of course, for a minor Ninth Rank officer like a Centurion, this wouldn’t normally be necessary. But General Grant wanted to boost morale, so it seemed a bit like putting on a show.

“Wait, extra reward: five lower-grade elemental stones for Charles Carter. Three twenty-year-old ginseng roots.” George Grant was in a good mood today. With such generous rewards, Charles Carter was secretly delighted—who wouldn’t take free gifts?

This time, Charles Carter had to move again, because he was now a Centurion. So, Charles Carter could move into the Centurion’s tent. Ordinary soldiers slept forty to a tent, while Centurions had eight to a tent. Naturally, with fewer people, it was much more comfortable.

This was an ancient perk—Charles Carter was almost at the company-level officer rank. But compared to a Fifth Rank general, a deputy regimental officer, he was still far off.

“Brother, do you know why the general is so happy?” Charles Carter called Jack Foster into the tent, opened a bottle of baijiu, and the two sat down for a drink.

“It must be because you took Commander Smith’s head, right?” Charles Carter asked.

“Smart, brother, that’s right. Because Commander Smith had a grudge with General Grant,” Jack Foster said.

“Did they ever meet on the battlefield?” Charles Carter was surprised and asked.

“Exactly. In a big battle years ago, General Grant was secretly shot by Commander Smith with an arrow. Although it didn’t hit his heart, it struck his thigh. The general has never forgotten this grudge. See, isn’t Commander Smith’s head now hung on the military pole for a hundred days to be pecked clean by eagles?” Jack Foster laughed. “And even I’ve benefited from your achievement.”

“I wouldn’t dare take all the credit. I’m just an ordinary Centurion under your command,” Charles Carter said modestly with a smile.

“Haha, I like your straightforwardness, brother. The official document should be issued the day after tomorrow,” Jack Foster said with a beaming smile, his eyes nearly squinting shut.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Brother Foster.” Charles Carter cupped his fists.

“Not a big deal, just a deputy company commander, an Eighth Rank officer,” Jack Foster said lightly, though he was overjoyed inside. “I’ll let you use this tent for now.”

This promotion was quite official. Jack Foster had previously been an external Ninth Rank company commander. Now, with the ‘external’ title removed, he was a deputy company commander.

“Why, Brother Foster?” Charles Carter asked, feeling a bit curious.