The giant eagle carried Jiang Xuan and the Old Witch away from the Frog Tribe.
By the lakeside, the Frog Tribe leader Huo Meng watched the giant eagle gradually shrink in the distance, remembering his previous conversation with the two, feeling as if a heavy stone was pressing on his heart.
He touched his face, painted with six horizontal lines, but he knew clearly that it was false, merely a facade to intimidate others.
"If only I were truly a Six-Color Warrior, that would be wonderful!"
Huo Meng let out a sigh.
He then turned to look at the Divine Lake, where the water level was gradually decreasing, and at the countless frogs by the lake, as well as the hundreds of tribe members in the forest.
"Perhaps one day, if the Divine Lake dries up completely, where will our Frog Tribe go then?"
