The Slavic army's command center was in utter chaos.
Zion's agent of boundless strength had taken a volley from several heavy cannons. Not only had he survived, he had erupted with combat power even more terrifying than before.
His strength had increased, his speed had risen, and most terrifying of all, he could release poison!
That poison was so deadly that an ordinary person would die from inhaling even a trace. Those strong enough to resist it would still be left completely unable to fight by the pain.
Worse, treating the poisoned soldiers had the medics run off their feet. The poison ate relentlessly through flesh and blood; any soldier whose treatment came a little too late would die. The medics had to give it everything they had, leaving them no capacity to support the soldiers attacking Zion's position.
By the traditions of the Slavic Empire, human lives counted for little, and losing a batch of men was nothing unusual. Unfortunately, Pan Long had completely lost his reason after going berserk. Like a wild beast, he raced around the Slavic positions, making straight for wherever the crowds were thickest.
His own attacks were nothing extraordinary, but the Earthly Baleful Force pouring from him was terrifying, injuring countless people wherever he went. Barely ten-odd minutes had passed since he went berserk, yet several thousand Slavic soldiers had already been poisoned—more casualties than they had suffered in the entire battle that day.
More frightening still, he was running toward the Slavic army's Central Army, where the troops were densely packed.
If no one stopped him, he would likely run through the entire Slavic camp. By then, at least sixty or seventy thousand of the army's hundred-odd thousand troops might be poisoned. The medics could never save them all... and there would be