The eastern sky was just touched by a faint glimmer of dawn, while the hue of the gray-blue night still dominated the celestial territory.
Up to this point, the Molten Iron Followers had destroyed the last totem pole, almost killing all the resistors, leaving only a few trembling captives who had given up resistance, as they tidied up the aftermath.
Suddenly, smoke and dust rose from the horizon, obscuring the sky.
The earth began to tremble.
It was as if an ancient beast was awakening.
Galos' vertical pupils slightly contracted as he gazed at the ground, seeing the mighty and unstoppable Bloodhoof Team, churning up a storm of flying sand and stones, rolling over the land like a giant dragon.
"They've finally arrived."
The Red Iron Dragon's gaze was icy, precisely locking onto the most heavily burdened and profound figure within the Bloodhoof Team.
