Noon.
As the golden sunlight reached its zenith, the Blood Fury Tribe's camp was filled with the sound of rousing horns.
It was the horn of attack.
The allied forces of three tribes, a hundred thousand strong, sprang into action.
Along the coastal camp spanning several kilometers, all the Highlanders and mercenaries began to form ranks, mount their horses, and assemble in the middle of the camp, directly opposite the Biao Clan's tribe.
Ji Xinghuo rode on Qing Hong's back, looking at the tribe across the river, and suddenly said in a low voice, "Be careful not to stray too far from me, and be ready to retreat at any moment."
Xia Qingyu looked surprised, "What's wrong?"
Over these days, he had witnessed Ji Xinghuo's Perception and judgment, always a step ahead, and basically always right.
No, in fact, he had never been wrong!
Now that Ji Xinghuo said this, there must be another reason, perhaps even a danger he had detected.
