Changes appeared amidst the mournful howls.
In other words, the absolute combat strength that Gibran could rely on, the troops that he truly cared about, were the wild beast-like fanatics that were howling in the blood fog!
Now, he was also standing in the thick blood fog, intoxicated by the crazy and vicious power.
This was the power, power that belonged to him!
It was as if he had returned to the time when he faced one of the main forces of the Silver Platter Kingdom. He had been bestowed with the power by that existence, and then he had led his troops to easily annihilate the main forces of the Silver Platter Kingdom!
Even if they were completely annihilated, he could still clearly remember how he had torn apart the bodies of those knights.
It was as easy as tearing apart a chick.
"Hehehehehehehehehehahaha --"
Gibran let out a strange laugh.