Everything came too swiftly and suddenly, the fire was like this, and so was the rain of bullets before them.
The camp caught fire, the crowd fled fortunately, but what lay before them wasn't post-crisis relief, but an overwhelmingly dark rain of bullets.
The natives were in chaos, under the threat of death, many impatiently tried to flee!
Yet, the camp fire grew fiercer, while their path was blocked. At this moment, the intimidating natives were practically trapped with nowhere to retreat to.
It was a bloody massacre.
Some warriors had limited endurance, trembling as they faced it all, corpses scattered around — shot dead, struck in the legs wailing, trampled to death in panic. The scene was too impactful, causing a young warrior unable to hold back and suddenly vomit, bile spilling out.
Zhang Jianxiong watched all this coldly.
A lot of people died.
A mere few dozen meters divided life from death between the sides.
Especially!
He saw a teenage boy who could've had a long life but now lay lifeless in blood.
War is ruthless.
For both the slain and the slayers, it's an indelible psychological shadow.
Enough people had already died, yet Zhang Jianxiong couldn't call a stop, for at this point, he still hadn't heard Chen Feng's order to cease.
He knew well who gave him everything, and in comparison to the "pitiful" natives, only one person could make him stop killing, and that's Chen Feng.
Without orders from above, the battle didn't end.
"#&..."
At this time, the air suddenly became murky, with a faint, thick, rancid smell, making one nauseous and want to vomit. The cold wind blowing from the hill was cuttingly cold, like countless knives slicing skin, unbearable to stand, especially the sand in the wind that irritated the eyes greatly.
Cries everywhere, corpses everywhere.
"No!!!"
Seeing all this, the priest's eyes widened in anger, his unprecedented rage spewed forth.
Now, he could finally confirm this was indeed a premeditated assault.
Fire, bullets, masses of enemies.
All those formed the massacre before his eyes, his tribesmen dying right before him...
One familiar face after another became icy corpses before him. Even as an executioner, who in his life didn't know how many lives were offered in blood sacrifice, his heart was filled with sorrow and fury, yet more of helplessness and terror.
The priest was fearful!
But more so resentful!
Fear, hatred, helplessness, terror, dread;
An array of emotions surged together, letting the priest make some kind of decision. He trembled, pulled out a dagger, and fiercely stabbed it into his chest.
"Cough cough!"
The priest fell to the ground coughing, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes were blood-red, muttering words, and at the same time, a faint light rose above the surrounding blood, seemingly energy-like, being absorbed into the distance.
"Boom!"
Soon after, a dramatic explosion echoed from afar.
A powerful and terrifying aura spread, even the battle-hardened warriors showed shock, not knowing what transpired.
Earthquake?
The Lady of Misfortune stood aside, battles of this caliber were beneath her intervention, but sensing this power now, her face also turned pale.
A mighty force descended upon this land, and the Lady of Misfortune, as a professional, felt the energy more acutely than ordinary people.
Seeing the somewhat panicked crowd, the priest gave a mad smile, summoned his last strength, and roared from his chest.
If translated into human language.
The meaning of this phrase is...
"Destruction!"