"Boom—!"
Early in the morning.
Artillery shells fell one after another, kicking up billowing dust from the central to southern parts of the pine forest.
Watching the smoke billow from the highlands two kilometers away, Bear Tooth holding a telescope in his hand, coldly chuckled and waved his hand forward.
The eager Centurion waiting by the side immediately chambered his rifle and called his brothers to move forward.
"Brothers, follow me!"
A crowd of Looters, rifles in hand, excitedly howled.
"Chop off their heads!"
"Awoooo!"
Though he shouted the loudest, the Centurion did not charge to the front line but cleverly let a few of his deputies, each leading a squad, take the lead.
A group of about 120 people was divided into three echelons—left, center, and right—each consisting of four squads of ten, moving forward quickly under the cover of the pine trees.