There were 120 War Dancers facing Miller's side, divided into six teams.
Under attacks from all kinds of Alien Energy elements, more than half of the teams had already been scattered. Then, a Mental Storm erupted among them, instantly causing every War Dancer to freeze.
Several War Dancers immediately went limp and collapsed to the ground, receiving their lunchboxes.
The other War Dancers swayed as if drunk, trying to steady themselves but unable to stand properly. They staggered about like drunken men.
A few War Dancers even toppled over amid their swaying and lay motionless on the ground, seemingly having received their lunchboxes as well.
Of the original 120-man force, more than half were swaying. Only some War Dancers on the outer edge had been less affected by the Mental Storm. Though they were still swaying, they were in better condition than those in the inner circle.
Miller's Mental Storm had directly rendered more than half of the War Dancers temporarily incapable of fighting.
"Attack!" As a qualified commander, Miller might have gotten competitive just now after his head had felt muddled. But the moment he saw a chance to expand their gains, his intelligence immediately shot to the max.
If they did not attack now, then when would they?
He waved at all the Ability Users under his command, signaling them to attack in turns.
In an instant, wave after wave of ability attacks rained down on the War Dancers again.
Sun-Snatcher and more than a dozen Black Non-humans also stood in a row. They muttered a language no one else understood, speaking rapidly and awkwardly, yet Sun-Snatcher was extremely devout. After chanting for a while, the Black Non-humans waved the long sticks in their hands and pointed them at the War Dancers.
Instantly, clumps of green mist exploded