My Players Are So Fierce

1802: 602.

Warning!

Warning!

Meteor strike detected on its way!

1802: 602.

Warning!

Warning!

Meteor strike detected on its way!

Meow Brother’s tactical victory greatly boosted the confidence of the brothers in the first battle group.

After experiencing that multi-enhancement sensation, even newbies who just joined the game for a few days believed that mere Dark Mountain Jackals couldn’t do anything to them.

Especially since the witch hunters became more skilled at weaving hunting illusions, this once-overlooked auxiliary skill played a clever role in dividing enemies during team battles, marking a significant improvement in their combat power.

However, as the commander, Meow Brother was not so optimistic.

He understood that this victory was merely enemy reconnaissance and couldn’t fully represent the destructive power of the Dark Mountain Jackals.

Therefore, immediately after the battle ended, Meow Brother did not relax but quickly had the players scatter more seeds around the heights to reinforce their preferred terrain temporarily, ensuring that his tactics could be maintained smoothly.

But Meow Brother, in his heart, also harbored a bit of luck.

It’s been over ten days since the deathmatches started, and the jackals have left over three thousand bodies on this height.

Although the majority were from assorted clans, with elites making up only a quarter, the losses were terrifying considering this wasn’t even a strategic stronghold.

If the commander of the jackals had any sense, they would know to bypass this hard bone and attack the Blackflame Mountain Pass from other directions.

When the Happy Batallion defended this area before, Meow Brother observed that although the intensity increased swiftly, the number of battles significantly decreased, indicating that the enemy had realized how inconvenient this place was, like a chicken rib.

Coupled with Lady Triss’s previous spell intimidation, the jackals, however dull, wouldn’t send reinforcements just to die.

If the enemy were planning to launch a total attack, they would need time to gather, meaning perhaps they could fortunately leave this place undefended for several days.

If that happened, Meow Brother would laugh himself awake from dreams at night.

And things seemed to be going as Meow Brother imagined; from the end of the 300-player battle on the first day until noon the next day, the jackals didn’t send any more forces.

Could it be that the enemy really gave up?

Really, did a pie fall from the sky?

No way, right?

The Great Chief of the Blackhand Clan was really lucky for once?

Wow, this feeling is just fantastic.

But is that really the case?

In the temporary camp of the Filthy Claw clan, Boboke, acting as the guide, was called into the Chieftain’s tent, immediately seeing the haggard and lifeless Chieftain of the Filthy Claw standing beside a few sinister jackal priests clad in heavy cloaks.

Their clothes bore the Split Claw Clan emblem, causing Boboke to immediately lower his head.

He knew the Split Claw Clan support had arrived!

The doom of Blood Flag Heights had arrived.

But he didn’t understand why the Filthy Claw Chieftain called him there until a jackal-style bone staff was thrown at Boboke’s feet.

“You, Boboke of the Black Eye Clan, due to your foolish command and laughable defeats, have become a joke across the Split Claw Clan.

Even your cunning father is ashamed of you.

If you are truly a noble-blooded jackal, you should now know what needs to be done to wash away the disgrace you’ve brought to the Black Eye Clan.

I’ll give you a chance, Boboke.”

Sitting in his chair, the Filthy Claw Chieftain said coldly:

“I have prepared an army of 1000 for you; you are now the Barbarian Soldiers commander heading to Blood Flag Heights.

Now, take this staff, lead your troops to launch an assault on Blood Flag Heights with your last courage!

The powerful priests and I will lead the spellcasters in the rear to support you.

Once that damned height is leveled, your shame will be washed away; your father and clan will be proud of you.

Now go.

I only have one request for you, do not look back!

Charge all the way through.”

“Damn!”

Boboke’s heart suddenly sank; he knew they intended to use him as cannon fodder.

As a young jackal who admired the King of Bone Biting, he had heard from the clan elders about the King of Bone Biting’s attack on the Blackflame Mountain Pass as a child.

In that story, the warriors under the King of Bone Biting charged bravely into the enemy’s territory, drawing the enemy’s main force, and just when both sides were fiercely engaged, meteors summoned by the King’s own mouth crashed onto the battlefield.

The jackal warriors who went to kill and their enemies were forever buried there, and the heavily defended Blackflame Mountain Pass was shattered that night and fell entirely into the jackals’ hands in less than ten days.

Summoning meteors was a specialty of these mystical priests from the Split Claw Clan, and it was evident they wanted Boboke to lure the enemy.

The young jackal felt a bitterness in his heart, but he knew he had no power to protest; if he resisted here, his head would become a trophy used by the Filthy Claw Chieftain to boost morale in minutes.

Dammit!

This insidious bastard kept him alive until now precisely for this moment.

“What are you waiting for?

Go organize your army!”

The Filthy Claw Chieftain said faintly.

With gritted teeth, Boboke picked up the staff from the ground, then stormed out furiously.

This insolent behavior caused the Filthy Claw Chieftain’s eyes to flash with cold light, but he eventually forgave Boboke.