Time ticked away slowly, and on the battlefield, the cacophony of bird calls gradually subsided.
Under the relentless slaughter by a host of evolved corpse puppets, the fearless giant birds were completely massacred.
At this moment, the battlefield was a sea of crimson blood. The scorched bird corpses in front of the convoy had piled up into a small mountain, emitting a pungent odor. Sparks danced as searing waves of heat emanated from the pile of corpses, sweeping in all directions.
Da Pang, Er Pang, and other tank-type corpse puppets were all now covered in blood, becoming blood-drenched beings, with giant bird blood, shredded flesh, and feathers clinging to them.
Especially Er Pang, who stood at the front, his iron rod encased in blood and feathers at both ends; countless giant birds met their end under this iron rod.
