On the eastern wing, a gust of wind blew through the battlefield. None of the men dared take a step forward. They remained at their positions, frozen in place.
The fighters from the eastern camp had pale expressions on their faces. Some of them were fearful and hesitant, while others simply wanted to get away from there.
And you could not really blame them, because they had just witnessed trucks explode, killing almost half of their army, including a Hero Ranker, with the second heavily injured as he had been among those at the front.
Their fear was justified, more than justified. If even a Hero Ranker could not stand against whatever trap the enemy had set, how did anyone possibly expect them to fare any better?
Henry was currently standing at the front, his face looking like that of someone who had eaten chili pepper. Thick red veins bulged on his forehead.
