The night on the Black Iron Plain was as thick as unyielding tar, with two moons completely swallowed by heavy clouds, plunging the earth into a suffocating, pure blackness.
Suddenly, the deathly silence was torn apart.
On the lookout tower at the edge of the tribe, the ear-piercing alarm whistle managed only a short, shrill scream before being abruptly cut off, as if its throat were being throttled.
In its place came countless eerie scraping sounds, low growls, and shrill screeches of claws scraping against metal walls!
The curtain of darkness was abruptly illuminated.
——Not by lamps, but by pairs of eyes suddenly opening in the absolute darkness, burning with a raw desire to kill!
Yellow-green, scarlet, ghostly blue... densely packed, like will-o'-the-wisps, silently surrounding the entire Golden Tooth Tribe without a gap.
"Enemy attack! It's the monsters from the Molten Iron Tribe!"
"Crossbows! Load the crossbows quickly!"
"Lighting! We need light!"
