The sunset stars move, in the blink of an eye, the ten-day deadline arrives. Under the dawn, the Great Wasteland still lingers in a vastness, but at this moment, the Gu Yuan Tribe has woken up. There was a slight vibration on the ground of the whole tribe, but only a few breaths later, this sudden vibration suddenly increased several times, becoming more and more intense.
At the top of the stone tower in the center of the tribe, a green shadow stands against the wind. A pitch-black horn in his hand emits a green glow. The deep horn sounds spread far and wide. This is Xiao Chen blowing the war horn.
Oo, oo, oo!
The desolate horn echoed from the top of the central stone tower of the Gu Yuan Tribe, like rolling thunder, shaking the vault of heaven, endlessly echoing through the ear, penetrating ten miles of void, and reaching the ears of every member of the Gu Yuan Tribe instantly.
The horn rises, and the tribe soldiers gather!
