That afternoon, outside the second Resurrection Point.
Crack!!
A stark-white skull the size of a human head was crushed into flying dust in a massive gray-white hand covered in horny plating.
The front-line shield bearer about to step over the boundary stone felt his heart lurch and forcibly drew back his half-raised foot.
The eight-meter-tall Warlord of The Ancient stood like a towering god of slaughter from antiquity, blocking the narrow cave entrance. Half a hard-armored limb, not yet chewed up and swallowed, still hung from the bloody maw split across his chest and abdomen. His cloudy, pale double pupils swept coldly over the heavily armored formation before passing over the rows of Mecha and locking unerringly onto the black-scaled figure on a distant bone ridge.
"Ahem. See? I warned you guys already."
[Tom Pie] squatted on a jagged cliff dozens of meters high, leisurely chewing a dried grass stalk as he chuckled over the all-band communicator:
"That broken stone is his red line. Don't cross it. I personally tested the big guy's rock-throwing accuracy and trajectory with my back. Nine hits out of ten."
The player serving as the main tank looked down at his heavy shield, reinforced with three layers of special steel, then glanced up at the Warlord's fist, which was larger than a millstone. He gulped and obediently shuffled half a meter backward:
"Buddy, you call that 'throwing rocks'? One slap from him would count as a heavy siege mortar at the very least!"
Knowing chuckles immediately rippled through the players holding the rear.
[Vanguard Across the Realm] wore a cold expression. He pressed a hand backward, signaling the Tier Two Mecha battle group behind him to establish an anti-charge formation on the abandoned hard-shell slope.
Inside the cavern, dark-gold currents of divine energy flowed as