In another dimension, the grand hall adorned with shimmering crystals and intricate carvings resonated with hushed whispers. At its center, a massive crystal ball projected a hologram of the recent battles, the images flickering with the intensity of the clashes. The horned tribe adults gathered around, their expressions ranging from surprise to disbelief.
The elders of the horned tribe, each a seasoned warrior with decades of experience, stared at the hologram with furrowed brows. They watched as their top young warriors were defeated by Wallace and his allies. The weight of the losses hung heavily in the air.
One of the elders, a man with long, twisted horns and a scar running down his cheek, broke the silence. "We have underestimated these humans," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Our best young fighters, Draken, Zenair, and Kael, have fallen."
