"Fight back, why are we afraid of those few rebels when there are so many of us? Don't let ourselves fall into disarray!"
"Where's the Priest? Hurry and heal me, damn it, just a scratch and I'm nearly dead, who can handle that?!"
A rebel charged into the crowd, each attack dealing two to three thousand damage among the people.
Meanwhile, a series of damage numbers floated above the Rebel Guard's head as well.
However, most of this damage was in the tens, occasionally reaching a hundred.
But for the Rebel Guard, who had nearly 16,000 HP, that amount of damage couldn't pose much of a threat.
Moreover, there were another twenty or so guards behind the Rebel Guard, like gods of death, leaving white light wherever they passed.
In just a short time, the scattered players lost all fighting spirit and fled in all directions.
At this point, no one cared to think about much else; they only wanted to protect themselves from dying.
