In a single strike,
the Icefield Mammoth Chief who had charged the fastest, wielding a Middle-Grade Semi-Divine Artifact War Axe, had his arms completely severed.
His charge came to an abrupt halt. His massive body froze in place, utterly crippled.
His eyes were still filled with disbelief.
A second later, blood spurted out.
Intense pain shot from his severed arms and spread through his entire body.
Only then did the armless Icefield Mammoth Chief realize he could no longer fight.
He let out a miserable scream.
His colossal body crashed to the ground as blood gushed like a spring, dyeing the earth crimson.
"No!"
The other Icefield Mammoth Chief couldn't help but roar in anguish as he watched his companion get crippled in the blink of an eye, completely unable to fight back.
But in that cry, aside from grief, indignation, sorrow, and fear, there was also a hint of lament for one's own kind!
Because Clans don't retain memories from a virtual divine war,
