To put this force together, the Old Wolf King had directly invoked the summons for a clan assembly.
That was the Half-Orc Clan's highest-level gathering, held only to discuss major matters concerning the clan.
At the time, when the chiefs of the various tribes received the news, they emerged from the remote mountain forests one after another and arrived at the meeting place, cursing all the way.
These fellows had taken their people into the mountains to scrape by in hiding, and each had their own Demon Clan enemies to fight.
Wasn't issuing a summons to gather everyone at a time like this just messing around?
As the meeting began, the Old Wolf King got straight to the point and stated its purpose.
To assemble an army and counterattack the Demon Clan!
His words fell.
After three seconds of silence, the entire gathering suddenly erupted in laughter.
"Hahahaha! Old Wolf King, have you gone mad?"
"Counterattack the Demon Clan? Oh, heavens! Has the Holy Human Race brainwashed you so much that they've washed your brains away?"
A one-eyed Minotaur chief sneered repeatedly,
"Don't drag us along if you want to get yourselves killed!"
Beside him, a scar-faced Bearman chief snorted.
"We all heard about your tribe being besieged."
"We thought you'd summoned everyone because you wanted to surrender."
"But you actually want to drag us to our deaths with you?"
The Old Wolf King remained expressionless in the face of their ridicule.
His aged eyes swept across the gathering. He said nothing, merely raising his right hand.
Usok grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth.
"Everyone, don't laugh just yet."
"Take a look at this first."
He took a Six-Barrel Gatling out of his Spatial Ring.
Its pitch-black barrels gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and its bulky body was thicker