Chapter 145
Although the reinforcements were far away, so distant that the ordinary dwarves could only vaguely see the cavalry through the forest, not even the sound of Kislif’s horn could penetrate the battlefield’s noise; it landed in George’s ears like a mosquito’s buzz.
However, the good news of the reinforcements’ arrival quickly lifted George and the clan leader’s spirits.
George was fine; he was searching for Jima among the reinforcements. The clan leader, on the other hand, had a rosy complexion as if he had suddenly returned to his youth. He even jumped up and slapped the battlements.
“Great, great! The humans haven’t broken their promise.” The clan leader’s eyes flashed like lightning as he looked below. “That group of ratmen brats have mostly entered the city, leaving their backs behind.”
The massive winged cavalry began to reorganize, moving slowly toward the ratmen army, with their lances raised and red flags waving, advancing toward the left flank behind the ratmen.
George estimated that the number of cavalry was less than three thousand, and many of them were not winged knights but light cavalry responsible for cleaning up and harrying the battlefield, armed with nothing more than a spear or a bow.
Compared to the entire ratman army, although the cavalry helping out seemed numerous, they appeared small like an arrow poking at a giant in comparison to the sprawling ten-mile-long ratman encampment.
George couldn’t help but ask, “Can they really break through?”
“Of course! As long as the winged knights charge, the cowardly ratmen will collapse.”
George noticed that the ratman camp outside the walls began to descend into chaos, with flags shaking wildly and ratmen running everywhere. Taking advantage of the distorted light, George could achieve a binocular effect.
He even saw two panicking ratmen collide and fall to the ground, with more ratmen tripping and blocking the passage.
At that moment, George recalled the crazy historical battle where a hundred defeated five thousand cavalry, and he gradually believed the clan leader’s words.
A single person could turn around quickly, but what if it were a thousand? And if that thousand needs to gather from different places and turn around together? What if that number expanded to ten thousand or even a hundred thousand?
The ratman army was like a hefty giant desperately twisting its massive body, while the cavalry was like a dagger, closing in on its heart, while its fist remained trapped in the city of Dragon’s Requiem, with its head not even turned back.
Surely, the leading ratmen must be panicked.
So George thought.
Just as George imagined, the ratman leaders were in disarray, running around on the high platform like ants on a hot stove.
“How could there be a group of human cavalry coming from behind?”
“We’re doomed! Doomed! Our legion is all in front, ahead!”
“Hurry, take your last Hell Abyss abomination to hold off those human things.”
“Do you think I’m foolish? You all watched as our Corrupted Clan’s abominations were killed! Dead! Dead! And you want me to be cannon fodder? No! No!”
“Silence! Silence! I demand silence!” The Great Horned Rat God Chosen, Chuan Luo, bit down on a dimensional stone coin to calm himself. His eyes widened as he said: “It must be the scheme of my rival. Only she could quietly summon a cavalry behind us!”
The arguing ratman leaders looked toward him.
From the highest platform within the city, they could see the approaching cavalry. Although the battlehorses were only advancing slowly to conserve energy, they resembled tigers stealthily moving in at the heels of their prey.
Behind the cavalry, Kislif’s infantry were jogging forward.
“But the great Chuan Luo has long foreseen all this,” the Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo said. “Don’t forget, the bravest army among us is right behind us!”
Just as he finished speaking, a sharp, piercing horn sounded.
Led by the red-armored ratman warlord, the Storm Rats formed a neat square formation and quickly blocked the space between encampments, just in time to block the winged knights.
One square formation after another pushed up, while the agile rat ogres ran between the formations.
The ratmen quickly remembered.
Yes, they still had the red-armored ratman warlord behind them. That warlord, who had been marginalized, was assigned to guard the back of the army. Just to prevent the soldiers from witnessing the plunder and wealth being amassed in Dragon’s Requiem.
The red-armored ratman warlord had directed all soldiers to turn their backs to Dragon’s Requiem.
The rats looked at him with admiration, and the Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo laughed to himself: “He can buy us time; hurry and send elite troops back to defend, now, immediately!”
The rats all smiled, even the heavily damaged Corrupted Clan. The red-armored ratman warlord would certainly fight the Kislif forces to a stalemate, meaning they wouldn’t have to divide more spoils with the red-armored ratman warlord.
Every ratman liked to expend the least effort while gaining the most spoils.
“Report!”
A panting ratman messenger rushed in, kneeling on one knee and raising a hand holding a letter, saying: “Urgent news from the front.”
Upon seeing it was a letter from the red-armored ratman warlord.
The Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo took it, tore it open, and found the scrawled handwriting simple: “All spoils in the camp belong to me; otherwise…”
Chuan Luo suddenly raised his head to look at the camp, only to see heaps of spoils being loaded onto carts, resulting in a series of minor conflicts.
The red-armored ratman warlord was actually trying to extort him; his teeth itched with anger, but he felt helpless. If he disagreed, the red-armored ratman warlord would forcibly take them.
The Kislif forces didn’t even need to charge; merely holding a parade away would lead the ratmen army to defeat without battle.
No matter; no matter, there are still plenty of spoils in Dragon’s Requiem.
Chuan Luo’s chest heaved a few times, and he forced a smile, saying: “Relay my orders; allow him to take all the spoils.”
“All?”
“All?!”
“Shut up!” The Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo shouted: “Get back to the camp quickly! I still have my secret weapon to unleash.”
All the rats suddenly realized that as long as they returned to the camp quickly, shouldering the battle against Kislif quickly, some spoils could be salvaged. As for promising all the spoils to the red-armored ratman warlord?
A ratman’s promises are worth less than toilet paper; at least toilet paper can wipe.
Meanwhile, George was watching the battle from afar. He saw a well-formed ratman unit, like a stubborn rock, moving toward the front of the winged knights.
On one hand, the underground was too vast, featureless, and treeless. The cavalry’s appearance would be spotted from afar.
On the other hand, he felt that this unit led by the expeditionary army general lacked some momentum, advancing slowly as if hesitant.
He reported back to the clan leader.
“Charge out; we must coordinate from the inside and outside,” the clan leader decided. “Tell everyone; we cannot let those rat brats swagger out of our city.”
George felt his blood rush: “I will be the vanguard.”
The order was promptly given. The dwarves, having learned of the reinforcements’ arrival, cheered joyfully; even the injured dwarves wanted to join the counter-offensive.
George walked down the stairs, halfway down when the butcher, Gortrek, came charging out, limping with bandages wrapped around him.
He was injured so severely, yet he could stand.
George was amazed by his vitality; even more surprising was the butcher Gortrek’s face filled with rage as if he had an enemy to confront.
“Manlin!” The butcher Gortrek yelled at him, “You dragged me out of the honor of death! I could have died properly.”
Behind him, the bard Felix had a deadpan face, mumbling: “The butcher’s song needs to be written again…”
George understood and asked: “What do you want to do then?”
The butcher Gortrek’s expression changed, and in a pleading tone, he said: “Take me to counter-attack; I heard the horn for the counter-attack.”
George looked at his raised left foot.
“Don’t you have a warhorse?” the butcher Gortrek asked. “I’ll ride on your horse’s back.”
“Alright.”
The butcher Gortrek’s face burst into a smile: “You’re truly the best human friend I’ve met.”
Fifteen minutes later.
Before the city gate, George rode on an armored celestial warhorse, both horse and rider white as a heavenly knight.
Jenna brought a lance and handed it to George. It was a simple lance, tapered, with no iron guard.
Behind him, the dwarves, invigorated by the clan leader’s speech, raised their battle axes and roared. The butcher Gortrek excitedly raised his axe. Only the celestial warhorse, Old White, lowered its head and muttered to itself: “Why must I always carry such heavy things?”
The city gate rose, revealing an endless tide of ratmen beyond.
George led the charge out, followed by the enraged dwarves.
The ratmen were caught completely off guard.
They had been anxious, especially with the elite troops withdrawing, which had sparked many rumors that a massive coalition of order troops was coming from behind.
Now, the dwarves, who had been cornered, suddenly charged out, confirming the rumor.
As George charged, spearing ratman riders, the dwarves surged toward the ratmen blocking their path, while the iron-handed dragon gunners rushed up to rooftops to fire flamethrowers at the fleeing ratmen below.
Despite being outnumbered and injured, the dwarves pushed back further and further in the face of their enraged counterparts, ultimately prevailing.
George rode his celestial warhorse, relentlessly smashing through the ratmen, killing with abandon. Disconnected from the celestial warhorse, he grabbed a massive two-handed sword from his back and continued to cut down ratmen, only to realize that he had chased them all the way to the second city wall.
Seeing this killing machine approach, the ratmen on the wall panicked, throwing down their crossbows, ratling guns, and slings, leaping directly off the wall.
Eve Frostleaf landed on the wall. Rather than shooting, she merely stared blankly into the distance before waving to George, beckoning him to come up.
George leaped up to Eve Frostleaf’s side, walking towards her and asking, “What’s wrong?”
“It seems like the reinforcements are about to flee.”
George looked into the distance and noticed that the winged knights still hadn’t engaged with the ratmen but were in a strange standoff.
“No, no. Don’t do this.” His heart dropped at the thought that the cavalry might flee.
All the hard-fighting dwarves now would have their efforts rendered meaningless; they had no more retreat.
The clan leader breathed heavily, surrounded by his guards as he climbed the wall, a smile on his face: “Human friend, are the winged knights coming to attack us?”
George took a deep breath: “Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
The clan leader, stepping on a ratman corpse, looked toward the distance.
At that moment, in front of the winged knights, the expeditionary army general, mounted on a bear, waved his hand and turned to leave. The horn player beside him blew the retreat signal, and the winged knights turned around and departed.
George’s worst fears materialized; the expeditionary army general had no confidence in victory.
The clan leader’s axe came down. “No! No! Coward! Come back! Come back!”
His face flushed, his eyes wide. He clenched and then loosened his fists, kneeling to the ground, his face ashen.
From afar came the cheers of the ratmen: “They ran! They ran! The human things are fleeing!”
In an instant, George felt shame for being human.
The clan leader stood up one last time, looking out with hope, but George clearly saw the departing figures of the winged knights and their horse’s rear.
George spoke: “Clan leader.”
“Flee,” said the clan leader. “Today is the end of Dragon’s Requiem. I will lead all dwarves to charge at the ratmen; better to die in attack than to perish in defense.”
George said: “I will fight alongside you.”
The clan leader donned his helmet, the visor obscuring his ashen face. He raised his axe, shouting madly:
“All dwarves! Charge forward with me until death!”
The shattered iron warriors surrounded the clan leader and charged toward the ratmen.
The dwarves swung, block, fell down; even severely injured, they lay on the ground but grasped their axes, intent to kill ratmen.
Upon learning of Kislif’s retreat, the ratmen were filled with excitement, using every malevolent means from all directions to slaughter the resisting dwarves.
Meanwhile.
Outside the city.
Leading the elite troops out, the Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo saw the Kislif army retreating and turned his back on them, directing his subordinates to fight for their spoils.
“I never said I would give you all the spoils!”
The Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo stood on the high platform of the Doomsday Bell, shouting at the red-armored ratman warlord facing him:
“Thieves! Robbers! Bandits! Return everything, or perish! Perish!”
“If I hadn’t scared off the human things, would you still be shouting here?” the red-armored ratman warlord shouted: “Don’t think! Don’t think!”
“The cowardice of the human things! If you have the skill, run now, and see if we still want you!”
Just as Chuan Luo finished speaking, a horn sounded from the side.
The red-armored ratman warlord’s body trembled, saying, “It’s the horn of the human things.”
“Ha, do you think I’m a fool?” the Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo yelled: “They’ve already fled, fled.”
“Right behind you!”
Chuan Luo said: “Then stab me?”
Another horn sounded.
A nearby rat tugged at Chuan Luo, whose face had turned pale, saying: “Really, there’s a cavalry force appearing on our right flank.”
“Appearing?”
Chuan Luo turned around and just saw a slope filling with armored winged knights, adorned in red, holding red lances. Moreover, more winged knights were emerging from the thick fog behind.
A black-haired woman wielding a poleaxe stood at the forefront.
Although she was far away, just seeing her made Chuan Luo’s teeth itch, and he shouted, “Jima! Jima! It’s you, that detestable thing again.”
He instantly understood everything. The withdrawal was a ruse, all a ruse—an illusion, the woman’s scheme. It was unbelievable that an entire army could be deceived by a bunch of illusions that could collapse upon contact.
The real main force was approaching stealthily, along with that succubus! That damned mistress of illusions had been concealed, quietly nearing.
Jima raised her “branch poleaxe” and then lowered it as the winged knights’ warhorses slowly descended the slope, an iron tide passing on both sides of her.
All the ratman leaders with military knowledge felt a dagger pressed against their hearts, piercing towards their beating cores.
The red-armored ratman warlord’s storm rats were dedicated to holding the left flank’s encampment; the right flank was empty, just them.
Despite the red-armored ratman warlord’s confidence in his storm rats to engage the human cavalry head-on, they couldn’t outrun the cavalry from that gap.
“That gap must be blocked!” The Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo changed his tone rapidly and spoke to the red-armored ratman warlord: “Do you have any reserves? If so, all the spoils are yours! When we seize Dragon’s Requiem, you can have half!
“As long as we can delay, delay until my ritual succeeds.”
The red-armored ratman warlord asked, “What ritual?”
“The great demon!” the Great Horned Rat God Chosen Chuan Luo snarled, “The great demon of the horned beast can tear these human things into pieces!”
“Alright,” the red-armored ratman warlord said: “I’ll do my best; I still have a reserve force.”
Having a reserve force is a quality an excellent general should possess.
In the distance, a horn sounded.
The accompanying horn player raised his brass trumpet and began to play an urgent call.
All the winged knights kicked their warhorses, which transformed from a slow pace to a fast trot, stepping up the speed significantly.
Jima flapped her wings, flying off the slope below.
The winged knights divided into three groups, sweeping from the side toward the ratmen army’s right flank like a red line.
She saw the rat ogres rushing toward the cavalry, intending to delay the time. The numerous rat ogres that originally existed had suffered heavy casualties while encircling the savior team, looking to number less than a hundred now.
Jima paid them no mind and continued to fly, as the thundering hooves beneath her warmed her blood.
Behind the rat ogres was a Hell Abyss abomination, but it was injured, missing a hand, and the wound George had left on it had yet to heal.
Still beneath her notice.
About a hundred fully armed storm rats, without maintaining formation, dashed rapidly toward the right flank.
Jima still dismissed them entirely.
The storm rat phalanx on the left flank was moving—flags fluttering, energy crackling. The formations advanced slowly but remained organized toward the right flank.
Jima’s gaze immediately fixated on the storm rat phalanx; they posed a threat. If the cavalry got caught in a melee, the spear-wielding storm rats would surge in and create a stalemate, complicating matters.
But then, a group of light cavalry armed with spears and bows rushed forward, drawing their bows to shoot.
Beog raised his holy sword, charging alongside the battle priest Sigma, whose head reflected light like a mirror. Behind them were Kislif’s infantry.
The phalanx was thrown into disarray.
The withdrawing phalanx stopped to defend against the sudden attack; where there was one disruption, chaos reigned. Ratman officers without further orders didn’t know what to do, merely commanding the formation to halt and prepare for battle.
And their orders often went unexecuted.
Though arrows fired by Kislif’s light cavalry would hardly harm the armored storm rats,
Even ratmen, rigorously trained, found it difficult amidst the whistling arrows to focus, heed commands, or observe military flags.
The entire phalanx came to a standstill. It was foreseeable that when Kislif’s infantry surged in, they would pin the ratmen firmly in place.
Poor infantry.
Jima snickered, flapping her wings, charging alongside the winged knights.
Nearly a hundred rat ogres roared as they charged, and with the horn sounding, the urgency heightened.
The winged knights’ mounts shifted from a fast pace to a full gallop, charging with all their might; their formations divided into two lines, launching a charge, with raised lances making them appear like hedges.
The “hedges” lowered, pointing directly at the rat ogres.
Jima swung her branch poleaxe, cursing the rat ogres. About twenty of the rat ogres were struck with curses, momentarily stunned, stopping to smack their heads in confusion.
The remaining rat ogres collided with the winged knights.
The four-meter-long hollow lances were the first to pierce a rat ogre, while the winged knights clamped their lances, tirelessly transmitting kinetic energy into the rat ogres’ bodies.
“Crack!”
With the lances breaking, three or four spears were embedded in the rat ogres’ bodies, causing them to tumble to the ground, as countless winged knights galloped past the carcasses.
In the first wave of the charge, over twenty rat ogres fell, with two rows more of winged knights charging in like a sieve, repeatedly filtering through the rat ogres, leading to several hand-to-hand skirmishes.
At this point, Jima dove down to assist, delivering killing blows to the rat ogres.
By the time she killed her third one and flew back into the air, she found no living rat ogres remaining. The enemy’s mobile troops had been entirely eradicated in a brief period of time.
During this short interval,
Jima saw a temporary defensive line—one made of rat meat—had formed before the winged knights. From above, it looked sparse, resembling a wafer lying on the ground.
These ratmen were likely forcibly assembled, standing ready to block the thundering hooves; they had no time to form proper ranks.
The only stronghold was two black storm rat phalanxes holding steadfast in the center. Behind them seemed to lie the command structure of the ratman army, and Jima could see an unnamed ratman seemingly conducting a ritual.
Without a doubt, she had to rush through! Charge straight ahead!
Jima yelled: “Charge! Crush it! Slash!”
The already disordered winged knights surged en masse toward the ratman defensive line.
The ground trembled as the clan rats’ legs trembled along with it. One ratman couldn’t resist and covered his head as he scampered, while a supervising team armed with ratling guns swiftly shot at him.
A pink mist sprayed out, neutralizing the fearful aura emanating from the fleeing ratmen. This let the ratman “wafer” defense withstand the winged knights’ charge.
The storm rats angled their long spears, stepping on the tips of their weapons as the directly advancing winged knights approached. The red-armored ratman warlord yelled from behind:
“Do not retreat! Do not take even one step back!”
The lances lowered, aimed directly at the storm rats.
Seeing the steadfast comrades beside them, the storm rats felt a sudden surge of courage; the winged knights were definitely going to suffer bad consequences upon collision.
An icy radiance enveloped the front-line winged knights, their lances gleaming with a frost glow, the mounted Ice Sorceress casting spells.
Simultaneously, amidst the dense storm rat formation, a cold wind carrying pure white ice whirled, rumbling like ocean waves, knocking the storm rats about.
The winged knights crashed in, their lances piercing through the storm rats’ armor, embedding deep within the formations. Many storm rats knocked down by the icy blast never got the chance to rise again.
The spear-wielding storm rats swung their long spears, knocking down the suffered winged knights.
The first wave of charge, battered by magical strikes, saw the storm rats held their ground.
At that moment, gunfire erupted behind the ratman lines, a rain of bullets sweeping across fleeing ratmen—not every ratman was a storm rat.
The ratman commander believed that instead of using their limited ratling guns against the winged knights, it would be wiser to fire upon the fleeing soldiers; from a certain perspective, they were making a sound decision.
The long “wafer” defense held the winged knights securely, barely holding against the first onslaught.
As the retreat horn sounded, ratmen erupted in cheers. But the cheers halted instantly as the second wave of charge swiftly followed; they arranged themselves into two lines and charged.
Leading it all were the winged knights mounted on bears; due to their slow speed, they couldn’t keep pace with the first charge.
“Hold on! Hold on! Ah!”
A lance pierced through a screaming ratman officer.
A bear’s paw swiped, throwing a multitude of storm rats into the air.
The long yet sparse wafer defense could not withstand the winged knights. The steeds continuously galloped, knocking down ratmen in their wake, the winged knights discarding their lances to wield their knight swords, carelessly slashing left and right.
The ratmen finally couldn’t hold on anymore, covering their heads and fleeing, even inhaling the pink mist filled with bloodlust was only released upon any who dared obstruct their escape.
The ratlings continued to fire on their fellow fleeing ratmen—some fell from overheating explosions, while others were torn apart by their comrades.
The last-standing storm rats, however, found themselves in despair, realizing they were the most belated ones, completely surrounded by cavalry.
A few winged knights simply wielding knight swords came charging from behind the storm rat phalanx, triggering an all army-wide rout.
The last sturdy backbone had been broken; the red flood became unstoppable, slaughtering the fleeing soldiers at will.
Jima sang out loud, gleefully harvesting the lives of fleeing ratmen; she relished slaughtering enemies who dared not resist.
Under her feet, the winged knights clad in red capes acted like a red bulldozer, pushing the ratmen forward. The ratmen fled toward Dragon’s Requiem, desperately squeezing into the gaps in the city walls, rats pushing rats.
More and more rats were pushed down into the lava moat by their companions, with the winged knights closing in, compressing the area; an increasing number of rats fell into the moat, their corpses stacking layer upon layer on the lava, forming a thermal insulation layer.
Those falling deeper had a chance to climb out, but they were usually firmly gripped at the ankles by hands reaching out from below, as those underneath, being roasted, desperately hoped someone might pull them out, refusing to let go even in death.
At that moment, a surge of magical wind violently swirled, waking Jima from her murderous state; she remembered there were ratmen performing a ritual.
She saw in the ritual site, a pillar amidst the streams of fleeing soldiers from both the ratmen and the winged knights.
Both sides were filled with fleeing soldiers, the Hell Abyss behemoth stood in front, willing to kill anything that dared approach, enemies or allies; already, over twenty winged knights had met their demise here.
Combined with a plethora of strong foes, they could not take it down within a brief timeframe.
Currently, it seemed the ritual was on the verge of success. Jima’s heart raced, but there was little she could do.
After all, she couldn’t possibly deceive Beog; otherwise, given her nature, she’d have already incorporated all the strong arms of the entire army into the knight force to concentrate and break through.
As Chuan Luo raised his hands, the Doomsday Bell sounded, illuminating eyes with a brilliant red glare from the ritual’s magic circle. Jima could sense a storm of magical energy raging.
In the red light, Chuan Luo crazily laughed, gazing at Jima, laughing even louder.
But Jima was puzzled; she didn’t know who that mad ratman was. Most importantly, this red light, this aura, clearly symbolized the Blood God.
When did the Blood God change its temperament and stop hating magic, collaborating with spellcasters instead?
In the red light, there emerged a demon, entirely crimson, growing wings, brandishing massive fiery axes, donned in bronze armor. It was the Blood God Demon, a significantly powerful demon, appearing even taller than the Hell Abyss abomination.
The Blood God Demon roared, flames spewing from its mouth:
“Who! Which filthy bug used stinking magic to haul me out? Disgusting! The stench of magic is everywhere!”
Chuan Luo halted his maniacal laughter, turning to exclaim: “How is it the Blood God’s Demon?”
An axe swung toward him, and Chuan Luo dodged with a quick and skillful spell; the axe struck the Doomsday Bell, fracturing it and emitting a red light from the crack.
At that moment, the red-armored ratman warlord finally remembered. A few days earlier, to humiliate Chuan Luo, he had bribed ratman assassins to swap in contaminated materials.
Could it be that Chuan Luo used those contaminated materials for his spell?
“You filthy bug! I will kill you!!!”
The Blood God Demon grew angrier, casually beheading a nearby ratman powerhouse before swinging an axe at Chuan Luo.
Yet Chuan Luo, being the Great Horned Rat God Chosen, utilized his teleportation spell with astonishing speed at the last moment to vanish before the Blood God Demon’s axe blade.
“Ahhhhhh!” The Blood God Demon was truly enraged, flames roaring from its orifices; its fury craved for more blood to quench it: “Despicable wizard!”
It began hacking at surrounding ratman powerhouses; none could withstand the dual strikes—horizontal splits into two pieces or vertical chops to quarter them—that was their fate.
The Hell Abyss abomination charged toward the Blood God Demon, crashing into it, and they began to grapple, the Blood God Demon flipping the Hell Abyss abomination and cleaving off its head with a swing.
“Half a head? Useless!” the Blood God Demon screamed, venting frustrations as it continually hacked at the corpse of the Hell Abyss abomination: “Useless! Useless! Useless!!!”
The scene was simply spectacular, a colossal beast being ground into minced meat, guts and bones scattering everywhere.
The red-armored ratman warlord, who had narrowly escaped a dire fate, glanced at the enraged Blood God Demon not far away and swore that he would never again partner with Chuan Luo, no matter the circumstances.
Having sworn, he rushed back left, gathering loyal followers and some soldiers before fleeing immediately. Even the left flank storm rats disintegrated, scattering to escape.
Witnessing the entire event, Jima couldn’t help but clap.
So powerful; truly so powerful. Originally, she would have had to ponder how to uproot this place, after all, she wasn’t in actual command. With so many strong beings clustered, it would still be hard to gnaw away at them.
Unexpectedly, that unknown ratman was so formidable that he summoned a demon.
Truly the Blood God Demon, its direct capabilities were formidable, instantly slashing down all nearby beings, even the Doomsday Bell was not spared.
“Boom!”
Under the Blood God Demon’s wrath and cleaving strikes, the Doomsday Bell became a pile of scrap metal.
The Blood God Demon began to emanate ashes from its body, signaling its departure from the material realm. It turned to look at Jima, roaring with anger: “The stench of the birdpeople! It’s your scheme again!”
The Blood God Demon threw its massive axe, fast as lightning. Out of respect, Jima resorted to using “Puppet Dummy.”
The Blood God Demon could only disappear amidst its rage.
Jima’s smile vanished, her hand gently brushing over her left eye.
It seems the opponent has sensed the power of the Trickster God within me. How am I going to explain being chosen as the Trickster God to George?
