"Chieftain, the Black Forest is our home turf. No matter how powerful those icefield monsters are, we should face them without fear!"
Prophet Onyx sat cross-legged, his voice firm and resolute.
"That's right! If we could survive the Myriad Races Invasion, what's there to fear from the northern enemies?"
The mere mention of battle sent Rendall's emotions soaring. His voice carried an unmistakable excitement.
Rendall had watched the Stoneheart Horde grow stronger step by step. He had seen Blackstone City rise, stone by stone, from the ground.
To him, the horde wasn't just a faction—it was his life's work, the embodiment of his hopes and dreams.
Inside the chieftain's tent, Orion looked at the four senior elders he had personally nurtured.
Each of them had now ascended to Alpha-level, a testament to the horde's strength.
Rendall, full of passion and loyalty, was willing to do anything for the horde without a single complaint.
