Li Xiangyang, with unwillingness written all over his face, looked down upon the plane. By now, his Clan had been utterly defeated under the enemy's offensive.
The Central Army's Minotaur legions were thrown into utter disarray by thirteen transcendent Supreme Nagas, and both flanks were already at a disadvantage. With the addition of two Whale-Riding Knights on each side, the flanks mainly composed of Hyenaman cannon fodder collapsed outright.
The Minotaurs, with their thick skin and heavy armor, could still withstand some punishment, but the Hyenamen were crushed into a mash on the spot when swept over by the more than ten-meter-tall Supreme Nagas, dying particularly gruesomely.
The defeat was certain, and even if he didn't want to admit it, there was nothing he could do. Watching Supreme Naga after Supreme Naga rampage through his ranks as if unchallenged, he was filled with unwillingness; suddenly, he issued a Divine-mandate, ordering the ballistas that had arrived to unfold.
