On the main battlefield, all those endless control skills did affect Dopey.
Just… barely.
They couldn't stop him. They could only slow down how quickly they died.
In the face of absolute strength, every trick looked cheap. No matter what they threw at him—swamps, gravity, sandstorms, stone prisons—Dopey smashed through it all with raw force. Their skills bought seconds at best.
By now, out of more than twenty Stoneborn, only six were left.
The rest had been hammered to death.
The Stoneborn leader's expression was downright ugly.
He'd come here thinking this was some low-tier world.
And—no, it was a low-tier world.
The mutated humans, the mutant beasts, even these humans themselves… everything screamed "weak ecosystem."
So how the hell had a freak like that soulless thrall popped out of nowhere?
It made no sense.
