"F*ck the Big-horned Rat God, f*ck the Night Demon Emissary, F*ck the descent and revelation. Are the pigs of the Ironhide Clan all idiots? Even they believe such stupid nonsense!"
At the same time, in the Blood Hoof Clan's temple, the strongest person among the younger generation of the clan, the master of the Blood Skull Arena, the new highest commander of the Blood Skull Battle Group, Casanova Bloodhoof, looked at the seven mutilated corpses with a gloomy face.
They were all the corpses of the elite warriors from the Blood Hoof Clan.
Yesterday, they were all fierce and awe-inspiring, but today, they had become lumps of rotten meat with missing arms and legs.
One of the corpses even had the horn on its head cut off.
For the Minotaurs, this was a great humiliation that was even more unbearable than death.
