Fearing a surprise attack from the Black Spider Tribe, Shi Xiaole and the leaders of the other five major tribes simply picked a spot inside the massive tent, meditated, and cultivated to maintain their condition.
Unable to use psychic powers, Shi Xiaole naturally didn't know the strengths and weaknesses of the other five, but it didn't matter; there weren't many who could threaten him under the same realm.
This wasn't arrogance, but a confidence cultivated over a long period.
Late at night.
The bright moon hung high.
Suddenly, a clump of black clouds covered the moonlight, and upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a gigantic spider sprawled across the sky, its mouth aimed at the Gun Spirit Tribe, spitting out countless black threads.
As the black threads dispersed, numerous men with spider patterns painted on their faces landed on the ground, holding weapons and brimming with killing intent.
"Outsiders, come out and meet your death!"
