Vlad was awoken from his sleep by the heavy beating of war drums.
He hastily stood up from his bedroll before leaving the tent to see what was going on.
Seeing the crowd, the teenage boy squeezed his way to the very front, only to see the Darkmane Tribe's army preparing to advance toward the mountain.
""Hooh!""
""Haah!""
""Hooh!""
""Haah!""
Their voices were loud. And as they chanted along to the beat of the war drums, an intimidating presence began to radiate from their bodies.
Countless banners of the Darkmane Tribe fluttered in the breeze, making them look like an army of death about to annihilate everything in their path.
"Watch closely, Vlad," Ragnar said calmly. "This is how barbarians fight."
Although his brother tried to hide it, there was a tinge of excitement in his voice.
