Standing atop the city wall, Lin Qi and Enzo gazed toward Wang Zong's camp. The square camp stretched roughly thirty li in both length and width, and was fully equipped with defensive works inside and out—moats, palisades, chevaux-de-frise, antler barricades, traps, spear formations, wagon formations, and more. Three faint magical barriers shrouded the entire camp. Unless a demigod-level mage was brought in to cast a forbidden spell, ordinary magic attacks and long-range strikes would not achieve much.
The tents within the main camp stood in neat rows. Though the soldiers' morale had sagged somewhat under the heavy rain, everything still appeared to be in perfect order. Dozens of swamp flying crocodiles, a specialty of the Black Spirit Continent, wheeled joyfully through the sky. The downpour had left the Black Spirit riders on their backs dizzy and disoriented, but these enormous magic beasts did not regard this bit of rain as anything worth mentioning.
Gales battered the camp. Strange markers hung from dozens of towering flagpoles—magic beast hides, magic beast tails, magic beast skulls, magic beast skeletons, and the like. These were the emblems of the major Black Spirit Native tribes, but Lin Qi could not tell which great Black Spirit Native powers they represented.
Among those flagpoles, the tallest flew a great black banner several meters long and wide. At its center was a blood-red lion totem. The fanged, clawing male lion twisted and leaped across the whipping banner, looking as though it were alive.
"Our little friend Wang Zong has arrived!" Lin Qi looked at the orderly military camp, then at the refugee-camp-like tent districts of the Black Spirit Natives outside it, and could not help nodding repeatedly. "Enzo, Wang Zong is a very capable commander. His individual strength is inferior to yours, but when it comes to commanding