Sol watched the macro-level war situation rapidly changing from his elevated, secure vantage point just inside the tree line. It was an epic, chaotic masterpiece of violence, a painting of pure survival rendered in red and green.
The remaining enemy lackeys were incredibly fierce. They possessed higher individual cultivation layers in many cases, and their bloodlines were naturally geared toward massive, sweeping attacks.
A single Layer 2 Silver-Backed Badger, cornered against a shattered tree stump, roared and swung its massive claws. The blow carried the kinetic force of a wrecking ball, easily crushing twenty rusted-red soldier ants into an unrecognizable paste in a single, devastating swipe.
But the ants simply didn't care about casualties. They didn't feel fear, they didn't feel hesitation, and they certainly didn't care about individual preservation. They were extensions of the Queen, and the Queen only cared about the objective.
