Emisfida kept calculating. Ox Demon Samson supported the Tribal Alliance's deployment of troops, leading to the orcs' crushing defeat. Not long after reaching camp, he took his own people and left, handing the Tribal Alliance over to me. I suspected that Ox Demon Samson would not simply give up, that he might have some other scheme. Now it is certain. Ox Demon Samson truly has another plot. My guess was right.
He looked at Qiudro, weeping on the ground, then at the dark-faced black dragon, and suddenly felt a faint sense of relief. If their tribes still existed, they would never have pledged allegiance to me. Thankfully, Ox Demon Samson slaughtered their tribes, leaving them with no choice but to seek my protection.
"Then this is actually a great thing for me."
"But how should I deal with Ox Demon Samson?"
Emisfida pondered for a long while, yet still found no solution.
Once one reached Saint Rank, the difficulty of advancing by even a single rank was no less than rising from low rank to mid-rank, or from mid-rank to high rank. The gap between each rank was likewise beyond anything below Saint Rank could imagine.
Princess Mei could fight two opponents at once, effortlessly kill one of Byron's Saint Rank warriors, and dig out his Blood Core.
Golden Goat Herolf could even face the siege of several low-tier Saint Rank warriors at the same time.
Zimmerman required six top Saint Rank warriors joining forces merely to stand against him.
Though Emisfida was hailed as the King of Ten Thousand Lions and stood only one step from the peak of Saint Rank, he knew himself well enough to understand that he was no match for Ox Demon Samson.
This troubled Emisfida greatly. Knowing the black dragon to be exceptionally shrewd,