The Black King was at a loss. He had never encountered such an undisciplined force before.
Even the most primitive savages have leadership; the members of this White army seemed to do whatever they pleased which in turn made the forces highly unpredictable.
The generations of forefathers locked in his head all spoke out at once causing him to roll at the Bullrok’s large frame in pain. Half of the voices were screaming instructions, half hurling abuse about opportunities missed. Together they made the sound of a rioting mob.