"Karen, why are your pants wet?" Ilia Danvers, lying on the slope, personally witnessed the team of black-armored warriors massacre the Undead Tribe!
The heart was surging!
The blood was boiling!
He wished he could be one of them!
Grabbing a knife and slaughtering that bunch of scum!
Not until Wilmer Percival left with the Wolf Cavalry did he come back to his senses.
"Hey! Did you see that? They were riding my Mont Horse!" Ilia Danvers boasted with a hint of pride!
"Damn it! If it were you, you'd wet your pants too!" Karen was a bit embarrassed.
He had seen big scenes!
But it didn't stop him from wetting his pants just now from being scared.
The killing intent on Wilmer Percival was too intense!
For humans, the terror of murderous intent is innate.
Not to mention Karen; anyone would have been scared unconscious.
And Karen just wet his pants; he's already doing quite well.
It's like how animals instinctively fear butchers.
