"Awoooo!"
The howls of mutant wolves rang through the valley, signaling that the predators were on the move. A night of slaughter had begun.
In the Lizardman Tribe, the old chief was still shaken. The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became.
"Quick! Go to the main tribe and report this to the king. Tell him a member of the Undead Race has arrived on the Alien Continent."
"My lord, is it really that serious? He didn't seem to do much. He only let a few humans go."
His subordinate looked puzzled.
The lizardfolk chief snapped at him.
"With your intelligence, what would you know? The appearance of the Undead Race on this continent is bound to cause upheaval. The terrifying part is still to come! We need to report it to the king now so our people can prepare."
"Oh, so that's how it is..."
"Hurry up and go. Stop dawdling."
The chief urged him again.
The subordinate hurriedly nodded and agreed, then left the tribe at once with a group of lizardfolk warriors.
The lizardfolk chief looked toward the horizon. Night was approaching, and darkness would soon swallow everything.
Weak creatures had to live in groups and rely on their collective strength to survive on this continent.
The lizardfolk chief felt that today had been the closest his tribe had ever come to annihilation...
Fortunately, that member of the Undead Race had not flown into a rage and had already left.
But just then, Green Mang came running from the distance.
"Chief, bad news! That man in white is back!"
"What?"
The lizardfolk chief gaped, his face filled with horror.
"What did he come back for?"
"I don't know! And he brought a whole group of people in white."
"..." The lizardfolk chief fell silent.