Set's clone's expression darkened, his frustration now bordering on anger. What kind of tribe was this? It seemed like every possible leader had either died or never existed. The senior officials were practically on the verge of tears, silently cursing their ill fortune. Why did the great elder have to die just yesterday?
As if the situation couldn't get any worse, the Baisha tribe members who were watching from afar began to murmur among themselves. They had witnessed the bizarre spectacle unfold, every person Set's clone inquired about was either non-existent or recently deceased. It was as if their tribe was cursed.
Set's clone stared hard at the senior officials, his gaze so intense that they felt as if they were standing in the middle of a desert on a moonless night, with a predator lurking just beyond the shadows, ready to strike at any moment.
Finally, with an eerie calmness in his voice, Set's clone asked, "Where is your commander?"