The Crimsonborn froze when they heard the guards. Then they spotted the humans standing atop the wall, and surprise flashed across their faces.
"Humans?"
"Never expected to find humans in this world. But look at them—they're only Stage B."
"Natives are natives." The Crimsonborn chief shook his head. "They're this weak, yet they still dare threaten to kill trespassers."
"You can't blame them. They've never seen the wider world," the Crimsonborn High Elder said with a laugh.
"Then why don't we broaden their horizons?" another elder asked eagerly.
"Hahaha! Go ahead. Just don't kill them all. We can keep some as servants."
"Don't worry. I know when to stop."
Ignoring the guards' warning, the Crimsonborn continued toward New Atlas.
They were a formidable group. Their chief stood at the peak of Tier 41, with dozens of Stage SS fighters behind him. The other several thousand Crimsonborn were all Stage S.
