Zhorion civilians and guards had fragile bodies, but only in their normal form. As soon as the mutiny had escalated to a battle of this magnitude, they all grabbed the pendant around their necks and changed into their Berserk form.
None of them approached the majesty or threat level emanating from the Zhorion priest, but their fighting prowess in this form was still something no normal Players could resist.
Every second, one or two prisoners were mortally wounded at the beginning of their revolt, but those who had survived so far were the cream of the crop among the participants. Strong mind, strong body and refined fighting skills.
By the time Jake's head emerged from the vault overlooking the city, the battle raging beneath him had already found a sort of equilibrium. When he saw the bloodshed and the number of dead Zhorions he almost burst into tears.
"My points! My precious points!"
