The Undead Tribe sang their songs loudly, clapping in celebration with their companions for the success of their chorus.
The valley was filled with an atmosphere of joy.
Amidst the repeated chanting, Hill slowly revealed a sinister smile.
The crystal fan in his hand swung heavily.
He even intuitively utilized the tornadoes already resonating among the mountains... After all, his own twelve storms could only ensure that the Rainbow Bridge and the high undead on the slopes were thrown into the mountain traps, but the group in the valley, especially those in overly dense areas, had to fly, pull, and drop one.
Hill absolutely wouldn't let them off lightly.
Even if someone managed to escape the storm... at least they would fall and half-cripple themselves, rather than remain unscathed!
How could that match their 'rat-a-tat-tat'?
Being overly familiar with the Earth Bear, Hill's mind instantly pictured the giant bear's charging figure.
