On a disc carapace, one groove represented one God-Hunting Point, while one circle represented five God-Hunting Points.
Qin Siyang stared at the circles packed as densely as tree rings on this Iron-Helm Rat Flea's disc carapace, his jaw dropping in shock.
He did not count them closely.
It wasn't going anywhere, anyway!
Before his [Violence] skill wore off, Qin Siyang kept swinging his blade, slaughtering the remaining Iron-Helm Rat Fleas.
Before long, his body suddenly grew sluggish again.
The aftereffects of using [Violence] were much stronger this time than the first.
He felt as though his body no longer belonged to him, unable to keep up with his thoughts at all.
The other Iron-Helm Rat Fleas did not seem particularly quick in his eyes, but he was just as clumsy himself.
"I've reached my limit."
He looked at the thousand-odd Iron-Helm Rat Fleas still remaining. There was nothing more he could do.
"No time to clean up the battlefield. I'll take that guy back and collect my reward."
Just as he was about to flee, however, he noticed that the Iron-Helm Rat Fleas had stopped surrounding and attacking him.
Instead, most of them charged toward the black glass bottle holding the Sandworm Scale a short distance away!
Only a few Iron-Helm Rat Fleas whose paths he blocked remained around him, attacking him on instinct. Their attacks barely hurt. Without a brain directing them, they were no longer as threatening as before.
After clearing out the Iron-Helm Rat Fleas around him, Qin Siyang left the thousand-odd gathered around the Sandworm Scale alone.
His clothes were soaked with sweat. Inside his unventilated Cold-Proof Suit, sweat was everywhere.
Qin Siyang took off his mask and gulped down the icy air.
Over a thousand Iron-Helm Rat Fleas clustered around the Sandworm Scale and ran