"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Didn't they say the First and Third Regiments gave us all their support points? Why did Old Qin only summon one Winterwolf Monk? The enemy's about to attack! Hurry up and call in more people!
Where are the Blood Eagle Hunters? Where are the Winged Cavalry? And where are the Brass Dwarves' cannons to carpet-bomb the place?"
As night was about to fall, the area beside the Blood Flag Pit was in an uproar. The veteran players and newbies of the Second Regiment stared eagerly at the reinforcements they'd paid eighty percent of their earnings to secure.
They hoped some formidable figure as beautiful and powerful as Lady Triss would show up and take command, then turn all those damned gnolls before them to ash with a spectacular storm of lightning!
If not, Lord Heather would do just as well!
Word was, the Third Lord of the Blood Oath Knights was even stronger than Lady Triss. And she was a melee fighter who specialized in defense. Even if all these gnolls swarmed her at once, they wouldn't be able to break through her defenses. With Lord Heather's help, they could hold this place until they died of old age!
But no matter how long they waited, even as the psychic fluctuations from the enemy's position grew strong enough for the newbies to feel, Old Qin still didn't summon the Golden One.
Damn!
Was Old Qin really this cautious?
In truth, Old Qin had already spent all his points, keeping only six hundred in reserve to summon the Winged Cavalry for a crushing charge. But of the two reinforcements he'd summoned, only one had arrived so far.
Winterwolf Monk Turner still wore his trademark monk's robe, seated cross-legged in meditation at the front of the position.
The Four-Element