One Man Against Ironclad

The Scarred Waste stretched for dozens of miles east of Westfall, a desolate expanse of cracked earth, jagged stone, and wind-scoured ridges.

The ground bore the scars of countless battles, with deep fissures cutting through the gray-brown soil and patches of dead vegetation clinging stubbornly to the rocks.

It was far from peaceful.

Level 40 elites prowled the open terrain in search of prey.

Scarhide Rhinos lumbered across the wasteland in heavy packs, their thick hides reinforced with jagged plates, while Ashfang Wolves hunted between the ridges, their dark bodies moving through the dust like shadows.

For ordinary players, the area was dangerous hunting territory.For a well-organized guild, however, it was an opportunity.

Nearly two thousand Ironclad members had spread across the Scarred Waste, divided into five-man groups.