Ye Mingqiu waved his hand, signaling the surrounding beastmen to handle the box while he stood up and continued, looking at the throne behind him: "This chair was perfect for the previous chief, but it's too small for me. Go make a new chair; I will hang the heads of the Beast Kings on it."
"Yes!"
Two beastmen nodded in response, eyes full of admiration for the strong.
Withered Bones, the shaman, however, showed a terrified expression and said, "Oh, King, the power of the Blood Axe Tribe is absolutely something our Black Fang Tribe cannot contend with. Please reconsider."
"Enough, my mind is made up. Select one hundred of the strongest warriors; I will form my own exclusive guard team, called... Tyrant's Fang." Ye Mingqiu said.
It's over, all is over.
Withered Bones glared hatefully at Engraving, leaned on his Bone Staff, and walked out of the hall, already prepared for the Black Fang Tribe's demise. Perhaps... this is fate.
