After the two Samsara squads had gone through every kind of scheme and contest of strength, they finally achieved their respective goals: king against king, general against general, soldier against soldier.
The Troll God King and the Troll Prince faced off in a duel, while the two groups of Transmigrators hid amid the chaos, waiting for a chance to take each other out.
The Troll Prince of the Hundred Slaughter camp appeared to be at a disadvantage, but the bald brute from the Hundred Slaughter Squad had his own considerations.
He believed the Troll Prince could withstand the Troll God King for some time. During that window, they would use their superior numbers to clear out the Samsara members of the Sikong Squad, along with the Troll God King's guards, as quickly as possible. Then they would concentrate their strength and take down the Troll God King.
There was a certain amount of risk.
But what Samsara squads did was inherently fraught with risk.
The short-haired woman suddenly opened her eyes and sent a message to the group. "I found them. They aren't in the city—they're outside it. They seem afraid to enter the city. What are they trying to do?"
A smile curled across the bald brute's lips as he replied, "Let's go meet our opponents. That's a fine graveyard over there—perfect for burying them."
At that moment, clad in imposing armor, the Troll God King looked at the young Troll holding a silver spear in the distance and said in a low voice, "Laville, what gave you the strength to stand before me and challenge me?"
Facing the Troll God King, Prince Laville remained utterly calm. "Your Majesty, you have grown old. You can no longer lead our Troll Race toward glory. You have already lost the glory