Bang!
Brute Hammer swung his two ultra-heavy Wolf Fang Clubs and smashed them together, sending a shower of shattered sparks flying amid a deafening blast.
Sensing the astonishing killing intent within the sparks, and recalling how countless pitiful opponents had had their skulls smashed to pulp by him while still alive, the hundred-odd fully armed Ratfolk all trembled as though they were naked.
They wanted to retreat.
But frost had frozen their legs.
Behind them, it was as though countless sharp Ice Cones were stabbing at them. If they took even half a step back, they would be pierced full of holes.
A female warrior about as tall as a human, petite and delicate by High-Level Orc standards, stood expressionlessly behind them.
From her carefully trimmed short hair, to her nearly transparent pupils, to skin as delicate as congealed mutton fat, and even the fur at her most private parts, her entire body was without the slightest trace of another color—there was only a breathtaking, snow-white purity.
Paired with sharp claws and fangs and her sleek, agile body, she truly resembled an ice sculpture carved from the coldest, purest block of ice excavated from the Night Country in the far north, where sunlight never reached, and sculpted in the posture of a cheetah.
Yet when the enormous crimson sun smeared blood-red sunlight over this woman who radiated a cruel chill, her immaculate white hair, pupils, and fur glimmered with a silvery brilliance, dazzling tens of thousands of spectators until they could barely open their eyes.
In terms of size, there was a vast disparity between the two sides.
In terms of presence, the difference was even greater, as far apart as heaven and earth.
Moreover, Brute Hammer came from the Brute Elephant Tribe. He was a true-blooded Bloodhoof warrior and