Broken Tusk was the vice-captain of Poison Stinger’s battle team.

  He was also the strongest of all the domestic rat soldiers, second only to a pure-blooded wild boar warrior.

  Even though half of the tusk that stuck out from the left corner of his mouth was broken, it was still longer and sharper than the tusks of the other domestic rat soldiers.

  His tusk had gotten stuck in the flesh of a totem beast, which caused it to break in the middle.

  That totem beast left him with a head full of shocking scars, as well as the courageous name, Broken Tusk.

  His ability to escape from the tiger’s mouth was enough to prove that he was not an ordinary rat person.

  In fact, Broken Tusk had the blood of the Ironhide Clan flowing in his body.

  His grandfather was a genuine clan warrior.

  Unfortunately, his father was born deformed and could not pass the coming of age ceremony.

  He could only serve his distant relatives as a rat servant and live an extremely humiliating life.

  But all of this was about to end.

  Broken Tusk was confident that in the Battle of Glory, he would accumulate enough resources and strength, obtain the sacred blood, and return to the Ironhide Clan’s arms.

  Of course, he had to follow his master first and crush these cowards who could not withstand a single blow.

  Broken Tusk did not doubt it at all, especially after he had destroyed the poor b*stards in the Hall of Glory.

  He even started to pity them.

  They were not warriors, to begin with.

  They were just slimy slugs.

  They should not have appeared and allowed themselves to be ridiculed.

  They should have died silently and rotted away in the dark dungeon.

  “Let me, Lord Broken Tusk, end your pitiful and shameful lives!”


  Broken Tusk’s face was full of malevolence as he locked onto his target—the little guy who was at the front of the enemy’s battle formation. He was so young that water could be wrung out of his body. His hands and feet were too slender, and he was trembling as if he could not even hold a battle ax.

  Seeing Broken Tusk pounce on him like a bolt of lightning, the little guy became so scared that his face turned pale, and he could not even stand properly.

  Broken Tusk laughed grimly and shouted as his mace stirred up a whirlwind.

  Before his eyes, he could already see the beautiful scene of the little guy being smashed by him until his bones were broken, his flesh and blood were flying everywhere, and even his internal organs were spewing out from his throat.

  However…


  His mace, which could cut like a hot knife through butter, missed.

  The huge destructive force and acceleration had nowhere to be released, so he was dragged more than ten steps forward in a sprint. The joints in his legs were aching faintly, and he had barely managed to stop himself.

  Broken Tusk looked back with a face full of surprise and found that the shivering little guy was like a mandrake leaf in the wild wind. He spun three times in the air and gently fell to the side!

  His mace had merely destroyed two strands of the little guy’s hair!

  “How is this possible?”


  Broken Tusk inspected his mace in disbelief. After searching it for a long time, he still could not find a drop of blood.

  He could only blame himself for being too excited and using too much strength. This kid’s luck was too good.

  “Even the most humble rat people can occasionally be favored by the ancestral spirit.”


  Broken Tusk mumbled as he spat into his palms, wanting to launch a second charge at the slender youth.

  However, the slender youth ran into the crowd in a panic.

  After the first charge, the arena had already become a mess, falling into extreme chaos.

  That’s right, Ice Storm’s battle team was indeed as Poison Stinger’s battle team had predicted, collapsing at a single touch.

  No, they did not even “touch.” Seeing Poison Stinger’s battle team pouncing over aggressively, Ice Storm’s battle team immediately scattered. They were not even able to maintain the most basic formation.

  It was truly an incomparably clumsy and shameful action.

  Nevertheless, Poison Stinger’s battle team hit nothing when they threw out their all-out fatal hammer strikes as a result.

  It seemed that they did not knock down many of Ice Storm’s servants.

  Even the wild rat servants that had fallen in an extremely exaggerated manner used their hands and feet to cover their heads and scamper away. They were like a group of cockroaches with astonishing vitality. It was impossible to tell that they had suffered fatal injuries.

  The main arena was very large. It was enough to accommodate over a thousand fully-armed Turan warriors. They were fighting each other there.

  If it were not for Ice Storm’s fame and Poison Stinger’s background, such 30 versus 30 team battles would not have been qualified to be held in the main arena.

  Broken Tusk and the other domestic rat soldiers had originally been excited that they were qualified to show their faces in front of tens of thousands of clan warriors.

  But now, they realized that the overly spacious battlefield had brought them quite a bit of trouble.

  The opponent’s battle formation had, no doubt, been destroyed by them in one wave.

  If they wanted to get rid of their fleeing opponents, though, it seemed that they would not be able to gather into a tight charging formation.

  That was not a problem.

  To deal with this group of cowards and wretches, was there really a need for a formation?

  After all, they were well-trained servants of the Ironhide Clan. With a whistle, the thirty-man charging formation spread out smoothly into three-man pursuit formations, attacking in all directions.

  Broken Tusk once again locked onto a target.

  It was a wrinkled old man with white hair.

  He looked at Broken Tusk in panic as if he was inviting him. “Don’t come over!”


  “Why are there even such old fogies in Ice Storm’s team?”


  Broken Tusk frowned as he exerted his strength, charged forward, and waved his mace fiercely. He was looking forward to the pleasure of making the man’s brain burst open, blood splatter, and old bones shatter. Kacha Kacha kacha.

  Then, he missed again.

  Broken Tusk was dumbfounded. When he turned around, he happened to see the old man with gray hair crawling on the ground. He used both his hands and feet like a giant but agile spider, narrowly avoiding the great sword and great ax of two other domestic rat soldiers. He dashed dozens of arms away in a flash.

  Broken Tusk and his companions looked at each other in bewilderment. None of them could believe their eyes.

  This… This bunch of b*stards, were they really from Turan?

  Broken Tusk was about to ignore the pain in his joints and launch a new charge at the shameless old fart…


  Suddenly, a new target cut into the path between him and the old fart.

  It was a guy with black hair and black eyes. His face was pale, while his body was wrapped in bandages. His bandages were soaked in blood, and the faint smell of herbs could be detected.

  He looked so weak that even Broken Tusk felt a little embarrassed to attack him.

  After all, bullying the weak, or at least bullying the weak in front of everyone, was not the Turan people’s style!

  Despite that, this black-haired, black-eyed trash, whether he was dead or alive, just happened to be blocking his path of attack.

  This trash and that old fart might crush him together and turn him into minced meat!

  Broken Tusk had lost his patience. White smoke that was hotter than steam spewed out of his nostrils. He roared with his two companions, waving his mace, great sword, and battle ax. Like a storm that could destroy everything in its path, they charged forward in a straight line.

  The “black-haired, black-eyed trash” resembled a little white rabbit that had accidentally entered a dragon’s den or a tiger’s den. His face was filled with fear and confusion.

  He stood still and watched as Broken Tusk and the others rushed over. His hands and feet were extremely stiff, as though he was too frightened and dumbstruck.

  “I should succeed this time, right?”


  Broken Tusk’s sinister smile was extremely intense, and it contained a hint of resentment.

  He was anxious to vent all his anger, which he had failed to release on the slender youth and the old man, on this trash.

  He wanted to blow this trash’s heart up.

  Then, he wanted to squeeze his heart out of his throat like mud.

  However, when he was already three to five arms away from his target, his target still did not move at all. It looked like there was no strength that could stop him from smashing his opponent into a pile of meat paste.

  Yet, he sensed an incomparably fierce killing intent coming from behind him.

  He had once escaped the mouth of a totem beast, which brought him extremely sharp vigilance. It made Broken Tusk’s heart contract violently and release a large amount of blood and strength. He ignored the intense pain that was erupting from his joints and tendons. He knelt down in front of the “black-haired and black-eyed trash” and rolled sideways.

  The two ignorant companions behind him were not so lucky. Before they could react, they were sent flying by a lead-gray and bright silver light.

  While they were still in the air, blood spurted from their bodies. Their chests became sunken, and their thin armor was deeply embedded in their flesh. Their hands and feet turned softer than wet ropes, and it seemed that they would not survive.

  In the lead-gray light and bright silver light, there were two impatient shouts. “Get lost, you useless pieces of trash!”


  “Yes… Master!”


  They were lucky enough to survive, but their faces were covered in dirt. Broken Tusk had been indistinguishable from his opponents. They realized in shock and fear that they had just been unlucky enough to bump into the offensive and defensive routes of the two main generals!

  The clan warriors, who advocated valor and emphasized on challenging the strong, usually did not deliberately attack the enemy’s soldiers when the main general was still alive.

  Soldiers versus soldiers, generals versus generals. That was the battlefield etiquette that the Turan warriors had followed for thousands of years.

  Therefore, just as the horn sounded, the two main generals, Ice Storm and Poison Stinger, shook off their servants and went to talk with the strong.

  The problem was that no matter how spacious the arena was, it was still not enough to bear all of the anger and killing intent of the two totem warriors who had activated their totem armors and could easily fly at the speed of sound.

  They would not deliberately attack the random soldiers.

  However, when they flew at the speed of sound and released frost and flames, blasting the arena into pieces, if there were random soldiers who were blind and happened to be in their attack path, they would not make way for those random soldiers.

  Broken Tusk was clear about that common sense.

  Even so, after two consecutive charges that missed and his target escaping in a very wretched manner, this captain of the domestic rat soldiers, who was full of honor, was deeply infuriated.

  Meanwhile, the target of his third charge, the black-haired and black-eyed trash, seemed to possess… an extremely evil power. It prevented others from suppressing the anger in their hearts when they saw him. They only wanted to completely tear him apart, and unknowingly… they had forgotten to observe their surroundings.

  Moreover, who would have thought that their luck would be so terrible? Their charging route happened to intersect with the offensive and defensive routes of the two totem warriors? Also, they happened to increase their speed to the limit at the same time?

  “That’s right, it’s our luck. Our luck today is really terrible!”


  Broken Tusk looked at the blood splattered all over his face and finally got out of his “dumbstruck” state. The black-haired trash so scared that his facial features were squeezed together. He was running away with his head in his hands, and it made Broken Tusk so angry that he was itching. “On top of everything, our opponent is too useless and has no dignity!”