Whether it was an uprising or fanning the flames.
What Zong Shen intended to do was far more than simply light a fire and walk away.
He also had to make sure that fire burned fiercely.
Most of the slaves present had developed their will to resist through prolonged oppression.
In other words, this uprising had been soulless from the very beginning.
If Zong Shen and the others left, facing the suppression of Mist Oasis's garrison and security forces, the tens of thousands of slaves here would soon scatter like monkeys when the tree fell.
They might have been physically prepared to resist, but mentally, they were still utterly lost.
Yet the awakening of their minds was the key to whether these slaves, primarily Sandfolk, could continue onward.
With his habit of seeing things through from start to finish, Zong Shen certainly would not abandon them at this point.
The clamorous sounds of battle did not last long.
Those defeated soldiers and orcs who had risen up all displayed remarkably formidable combat strength.
Of the more than ten thousand slaves present, Sandfolk accounted for over eighty percent.
The number of slave soldiers from the orcs, Nord, and Avalon was only a little over two thousand.
Most of those slaves quickly banded together after gaining their freedom and weapons.
Then they fled outside the market without looking back.
Zong Shen and Jeanne stood side by side atop the broken tower, coldly watching them flee.
After killing their overseers, the vast majority of the Sandfolk also gradually calmed down.
The young Tamir gripped a curved blade, blood dripping from its edge.
The pink scars had nearly turned as red as his eyes.
"This kid's got quite a vicious streak."
Unlike those slave soldiers, the Sandfolk did not choose to run.
Instead, as