These rebel warriors, who yesterday had still been in Black Horn City's workshops, farms, and gladiatorial arenas, squeezing out every drop of their blood and sweat beneath the thorn-wrapped whips of noble Clan Lords, but today had launched a desperate counterattack fueled by blazing fury, lacked nothing more than the courage to face death without flinching.
What they lacked most was a backbone, a sufficiently calm and wise mind to tell them what they should do now and how they should do it.
Thus, when someone shouted, "North, north," everyone turned their gaze northward without the slightest doubt.
They immediately discovered that the northern part of Black Horn City was indeed different from the other districts.
The fires there were smaller, the smoke thinner, and there were no ear-splitting explosions or collapses rising one after another.
The chaos in the north appeared to have subsided. It was highly likely that the Ratfolk Rebel Army had completely taken control of that area.
At once, everyone shouted in unison, "North! North!"
The formations at the rear turned their weapons around and slowly wriggled northward.
The rebel warriors at the very front, who had just fought three hundred rounds of bloody battle with the Mammoth Warriors and were dizzy with slaughter, were somewhat hesitant at first.
After all, they had paid an unimaginably terrible price to seize the Rubble Rock Family's armory and granary.
With mountains of Mandala Fruit, gleaming swords, and battle armor right within reach, leaving now inevitably left them unwilling to accept it.
Yet the Great Horned Rat God Envoys, who had just fought shoulder to shoulder with them, cheered them on all the way, and even led from the front, had somehow vanished without a trace.
Leaving them staring at one another, lost and bewildered.
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