"Not good, not good, the grass balls are coming."
The Wild Boar Men, who had been happily clearing the battlefield, suddenly heard some disheartening words. But when they looked up, wanting to scold, the words were forcibly stuck in their throats.
That was because the Ratmen running toward them looked decidedly unwell.
The ones at the front were covered in dust, but those behind were different. Many had numerous injuries, continually bleeding. If it weren't for their still lively movements, they would look just like corpses.
Behind them was an even more terrifying scene: a massive number of Wind Bone Grass formed into spheres rolling crazily towards them. Thousands of grass balls made of Wind Bone Grass stretched as far as the eye could see.
Once these things grouped together, on these unobstructed plains, they were the most horrific disaster.
Wherever the wind grass balls passed, even the ground was torn up, its roots severed.
