Hill couldn't help but laugh as he looked at the giant screen: the Undead Tribe had already divided the battlefield into two parts, with the major families standing before the Zholar... while the scattered ones and minor families were tangled with those Goblin Trolls.
The Disease Stone Golem had already been blown to dust on the ground.
The previously frantic Undead had now found their battle rhythm.
The Defensive Knights standing right in front of the Zholar hadn't seen any casualties for a full ten minutes... Now, standing beside them were all old friends. After fighting together for so long, even without command slogans, they could switch skills with almost the same timing.
The archer that Hill was watching intently had a bow-drawing and shooting posture almost identical to his neighbor, even the rhythm was similar... This made Hill more certain of his suspicions.
