Meteors and fire rained from the sky, while bursts of rock and lava erupted from the ground. In these conditions, the eighteen Infernals were in their element. People died every moment, then were burned to ash by demonic flames and turned into green light that the Dreadlord drew back into his hand.
Both rounds of magic had struck indiscriminately, and the Infernals' attacks made no distinction between friend and foe. Bessarius's army had suffered greater casualties than the Argent Dawn, but it did not care. To it, those humans, elves, dwarves, and Undead were nothing more than food, sacrifices, and cannon fodder, meant to be used up from the start.
The eighteen black vortexes in the sky had not dispersed. By the look of things, Bessarius actually intended to summon another Infernal army. Casting two large-scale spells had consumed more than half the energy he had gathered, but as long as people kept dying on this island it had turned into an altar, it could replenish its Fel without end.
Charging war cries rang out from the foot of the hill. Dozens of warriors had already gathered around Tyrosus. He knew that if the Dreadlord summoned another meteor shower, the order of knights would surely be defeated today. Their only hope of victory was to break through the Felguards' defensive line and strike off the demon's head directly.
Divine Storm began swirling around him again. The demonic soldiers instinctively feared the dazzling holy energy. The one-eyed Paladin led his group into the enemy ranks like a sharp blade, scattering the Felguards who wielded massive blades.
The group Tyrosus had hastily assembled actually broke through the narrow mountain path with ease. In the blink of an eye, Bessarius's towering, fearsome body stood before the point of his sword.
Something's wrong! A warning suddenly sounded in Tyrosus's heart. It had been too easy. Even if those who had followed him to the foot of the mountain were the finest warriors, they could not have broken through the Felguards' formation so easily. But could he retreat now?
He could only press forward!
The Arcanite Reaper plunged deep into Bessarius's chest. The false shock on the Dreadlord's face turned into a wicked smile as it abruptly tightened its arms and gripped Tyrosus by the shoulders.
Tyrosus felt as though a mountain were pressing down on him, leaving him unable to move an inch. Just then, his personal guards rushed forward, and four or five swords pierced the demon's body in an instant.
With a bang, the demon's body suddenly exploded into a cloud of red mist. The men felt the weight on their swords vanish, and a strange smell spread through the air.
Tyrosus immediately held his breath, pulled out his sword, and leaped back, but the men beside him reacted a little too slowly and inhaled some of the red mist. They were instantly rooted in place like wooden posts, unable to move at all.
A fluttering came from within the red mist. Tyrosus looked closely and saw a large dark-red bat riddled with holes struggling and rolling on the ground. What they had stabbed was only one of the Dreadlord's bat clones.
"Die!" Bessarius's thunderous roar came from overhead. At some point, its true body had flown into the air.
The large bat on the ground rapidly swelled into a ball of flesh and burst with a splat. Black fluid sprayed in every direction, covering the immobilized warriors from head to toe. In the blink of an eye, they were corroded into pools of bloody liquid.
Several other soldiers who had charged near the front were also hit. Those splashed in vital spots died outright, while the luckier ones had to cut away the flesh or limbs touched by the venom. Screams rang out one after another.
That was not even the worst of it. The scattered Felguards gathered around them again, and they were suddenly surrounded by enemies.
The battle on the mountain seemed hopeless, but below it, the advantage had returned to their side. The demon's spells had a limited duration, and the rain of fire, earthquakes, and lava were gradually subsiding.
The Paladins' and Priests' healing spells renewed morale, and the Argent Dawn's various groups rallied together. Unas and Erigor also gave their all to cast Holy Light, healing the wounded soldiers.
Three of the eighteen Infernals were already gone. One had been smashed by Pulhart, while the other two had been sent back home by several combat Priests working together.
Banishment spells were the bane of summoned creatures like Infernals. Although the success rate of Banish was inversely proportional to a demon's strength, making stronger demons harder to banish, it was highly effective against demons like Infernals, which possessed great strength but no brains. Several elite Priests had achieved success in one stroke.
If the battle continued this way, victory would still belong to the Argent Dawn. But the eighteen black vortexes in the sky had yet to disappear. Instead, they were growing larger, and Bessarius's massive body had climbed beyond the reach of arrows.
If it unleashed another Infernal army, the consequences would be unthinkable. Everyone with eyes knew that. At that very moment, almost simultaneously, three golden figures shot toward the demon in the sky like rockets from different parts of the battlefield.
A pair of enormous golden wings of light had grown from each of their backs. From a distance, they looked like three angels descending to the mortal world, but Unas knew they were no angels. It was a high-level Paladin skill—Wings of Vengeance (the Paladin gains a pair of wings of Holy Light, allowing the Paladin to fly and comprehensively increasing your attack power and healing effects).
It seemed these three were the Argent Dawn's only Paladins who had mastered the high-level spell. Unas recognized Tyrosus and Pulhart. The other appeared to be the man who had earlier carried a siege shield into the air and collided head-on with an Infernal. He had heard the soldiers say the young man was named Korfax.
The three could hardly have launched their aerial assault any faster, but Bessarius had been prepared. An invisible barrier seemed to stand before it, deflecting both Pulhart's and Korfax's attacks, while Tyrosus's sword only grazed the Dreadlord's left wing.
The three turned back to attack again, but Bessarius had already teleported some distance away. It gave a roar, and three Gargoyles suddenly appeared beside it. At the same time, a curved blade as wide as a door appeared in its claws.
It was being harassed so badly that it could not cast its spells and would ultimately be forced to retreat in defeat. It had to deal with these pesky flies first.
The Gargoyles pounced on the three Paladins, with Bessarius close behind. The Paladins hurriedly stopped and switched from attack to defense. The demon had been fleeing ever since the battle began; for it to suddenly become so bold, there had to be a trick.
Sure enough, the charging Gargoyles made no attack and exploded instead. All three had been on guard and raised shields of Holy Light, yet the flying stones still left them scrambling.
Bessarius had never intended to charge at them. The huge blade in its hands was just a feint, and it summoned another wave of Gargoyles.
They were just like air-to-air missiles. The three were slower than the Gargoyles and could hardly dodge them all. Korfax was the first to reach his limit. He had already been wounded, and now his injuries had worsened. The wings of light behind him grew dim and indistinct, and he swayed unsteadily in the air. He no longer had much energy left to sustain the spell.
Yet he had no intention of returning to the ground. Instead, he rallied what strength he had left and charged at the demon.
"Do you want to fall to your death for nothing?" Tyrosus grabbed him and ordered sternly, "The battlefield below needs you just as much!"
Korfax broke free of the one-eyed knight's grip. He drew several spare weapons and hurled them with all his might at the three Gargoyles swooping toward him. He shot one apart, while Pulhart intercepted the other two.
"Damn it!" Korfax had no choice but to descend to the ground, unwilling as he was.
In fact, dealing with these Gargoyles was very simple. Tyrosus and Pulhart quickly figured them out: they only needed to blow them up with ranged spells like Judgment before they got close. Unlike ordinary Gargoyles, these self-destructing ones were not particularly tough. Instead, they exploded at the slightest touch.
But a more serious problem soon arose: Pulhart could no longer sustain the wings on his back either. He was a tank-type fighter to begin with, better suited to close-quarters fighting on the front lines than to skirmishing as he drifted around in the sky.
"You get down too!" Tyrosus noticed his subordinate's predicament and immediately gave the order.
Pulhart was not nearly as rebellious as Korfax. He adjusted the angle of his wings, aimed at an Infernal on the ground, and dived at full speed. He wanted the demon to have a taste of being smashed apart too.
Now Tyrosus was left fighting alone in the sky. Bessarius was in no hurry to defeat him. It remained committed to fleeing and refused to face Tyrosus head-on, because it believed itself already beyond defeat. All it had to do was wait for Tyrosus to exhaust his stamina and fall to the ground.
Tyrosus was frantic. At this rate, he would not last much longer either. Was this expedition going to end in failure? Or did he have to use that forbidden technique?
"It looks like someone here needs help~" An ethereal woman's voice, layered with several echoes, suddenly sounded beside Tyrosus's ear, interrupting his thoughts.
Without betraying any reaction, Tyrosus scanned the surrounding sky, but found nothing.
"You should know my name, Baron Maxwell Tyrosus," the voice sounded again. "I am Sylvanas Windrunner. I can help you."