C964 Do It If You Want to

When Haszrul breathed his last, not a single drop of blood remained on his wound.

He had given every last drop to bless his warriors—truly, he had bled dry.

Crack!

As Haszrul perished, his bone staff shattered, tumbling to the earth alongside his fallen form.

With Haszrul's death, the Morning Sun Tribe was utterly erased from existence.

The tribe's warriors