It was early morning, just as the sky began to lighten. The tents in the camp were piled high with white snow, and the sparsely falling flakes added another layer of cold to the stark white world.

A few Kobolds, wrapped in tree bark and holding Grass Forks, stood shivering at the camp entrance. They rubbed their hands and stomped their feet, trying to bring themselves a sliver of warmth.

Logically, such an important job as guarding the camp shouldn’t have been left to a group of low-combat-prowess Kobold Vassals.

But at this time of year, with the land frozen solid, guard duty had become the most miserable of chores. The Lizardman guards were all hiding in their tents, sleeping by their braziers.

When the officers—the Zor Elves and Giant Goblins—were still around, they could barely manage to keep these Wilderness Natives in line.

But after they left, these undisciplined Wilderness People naturally reverted to their old ways.

In their view, hard and tiring work like this should be done by Kobolds and Goblins. They were only responsible for fighting.

Besides, they were just a small squad in the rear. Who would be bored enough to attack them?

"Once we’re close, we take the camp entrance first. Then, ignore the Goblins and Kobolds and charge straight for their largest tent."

Panda whispered the tactic to the hundred Panda Warriors behind him, who stood as silent as stone.

Thanks to a concealment Magic, they had successfully approached within a hundred paces of the camp.

The tactic was therefore simple: first, seize the camp gate with its trench and chevaux de frise. Without defensive fortifications to rely on, these Wilderness Natives would have no choice but to engage in close combat.

And the one thing Panda Warriors did not fear was a melee.

"I... I’ll cover you with Magic," the young Ice and Snow Priest said, extremely nervous.

"Don’t worry, the Panta Race will protect you."

Seeing his nervousness, Panda gave him a well-intentioned smile.

But the big lug forgot about his own burly body and furry face. Not smiling was one thing, but his smile had a rather vicious look to it.

It scared the young Priest so much he started trembling.

The Panda People’s sudden assault didn’t alarm the Kobold guards. The creatures were too busy chatting and hiding from the wind, paying no attention whatsoever to the situation outside the camp.

It wasn’t until the Panda Warriors were about ten paces away, their broad feet crunching on the snow with a "CRUNCH, CRUNCH," that they finally caught the short creatures’ attention.

Just as one poked its head out from behind a wooden gate plank to see what was happening, a hand thicker than its own body gripped its head. With a soft twist, it fell limply to the snowy ground without making a sound.

The defenses were even weaker than Panda had expected; only a few dozen Kobolds were standing guard.

The Panda Warriors seized control of the gate with ease. Before them lay rows of animal-hide tents dotting the snowy landscape.

"You, protect the Priest. The rest of you, charge with me!"

The enemy’s weak defense made Panda realize that this group of Wilderness Natives was truly just a ragtag bunch, not even comparable to the Wilderness Alliance Army that had marched south before.

"Kill!"

With nothing more to be said, Panda let out a furious roar, brandished the long blade in his hand, and charged toward the largest tent in the encampment.

Generally, a camp wouldn’t use decoys to hide the real command tent—especially not a group of Wilderness Natives. The biggest and most luxurious tent was guaranteed to house the highest-ranking person in the army.

Taking them out first would instantly throw the already disorderly, ragtag group into chaos.

The roars of the Panda Warriors crashed down like a tidal wave, making the blood of everyone caught within it boil and their hair stand on end with rage!

It would also give the enemies standing in their way a taste of fear, like watching a mountain collapse right on top of them.

It wasn’t until the Panda People had charged into the camp and cut down dozens of patrolling Wilderness People, their screams echoing endlessly, that the Lizardmen in the tents finally reacted.

Ambush!

Someone was attacking the camp!

Shocked and enraged, they grabbed their blades and rushed out of their tents, only to see a group of black-and-white giants effortlessly cutting down their comrades like livestock.

Faced with such an inhuman slaughter, they couldn’t help but tremble.

"Let’s show these little punks the might of the Panta Race," Panda roared. With a casual swing of his long blade, he effortlessly cut a dozen Lizardmen in his path in half at the waist.

He was a giant of a man, three and a half blades tall. His Power was unquestionable, and he cultivated a profound Qi.

Before him, these Lizardmen, who stood barely two blades high, were as helpless as children.

They could only let themselves be slaughtered at his whim, unable to even get within three paces of him.

Seeing this, the young Priest accompanying the army turned pale, but he still began to chant a Spell, his lips trembling.

There is Power in language, whether written or spoken.

When a Spell—created from a fusion and refinement of Dragon Language, Ancient Elven Language, and even the Ancient Titan Language—was intoned with twelve overlapping tones, it created a subtle resonance.

The Magic Power within his body began to gather uncontrollably before him.

The chanting grew faster and higher, the mysterious Spell sounding like the whispers of a Demon.

As hundreds of palm-sized ice spikes shot out in an instant, the young Priest’s chanting came to an abrupt halt.

At that moment, a few hundred paces away on a hillside, the observing Lord nearly started drooling.

The flying ice spikes were like a volley of a hundred arrows, instantly freezing a whole crowd of Lizardmen in their path into lifelike ice sculptures, the shock and terror still etched on their faces.

One could easily imagine that with this kind of Casting power, a hundred Casters could be enough to suppress an army of ten thousand head-on, making them afraid to make a single move.

Unfortunately, Mages who could use Magic weren’t common grunts; they had status and position. Just being able to get the support of seven Priests was already a testament to how much pull Fulina had.

Take the Lord, for example. To this day, the only two Casters he had were both ones he’d bloody well captured.

The outcome of the battle was, naturally, never in doubt.

The top-tier, fully-armed Panda Warriors, masters of Martial Arts, were far more than a group of Lizardmen could handle.

Although the camp’s garrison numbered two to three thousand, its actual fighting force was just over a thousand. The rest were basically Vassals and Auxiliary Soldiers.

What’s more, after the Panda People had cut down several hundred of their comrades like splitting bamboo, the ragtag bunch was already at a loss in the face of the sneak attack. Unable to stomach such losses, they immediately began to rout.

"Tsk, tsk. Now *this* is the Wilderness Alliance Army I remember. That previous Alliance Army of Minotaurs and Centaurs wasn’t normal at all."

The Lord, his feet clad in exquisite Deer Hide Hunting Boots, clicked his tongue as he surveyed the field of Wilderness People corpses.

"Well now, is someone playing dead?"

Levi’s eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s in the sky. He immediately spotted a Kobold wearing a straw hat, lying on the ground covered in blood.

It was supposed to be a corpse, but its finger had just twitched.