Gernos's humanitarian concern had never stopped since it began. The demon army had now been cut in half, and because of their immense numbers and the narrow path, they were all packed together. Nearly every shell landed directly on target, and each blast killed swaths of them. The demons drowning beneath the artillery barrage were now mostly dead.
Yet the demon vanguard that had escaped disaster did not collapse because of this. Instead, the blood-and-fire spectacle, coupled with the hopelessness of having their retreat completely cut off, made them even more excited and frenzied.
The Demon Heart Warriors' earlier pistol barrage had only added to their fury. The enemy was right before them, and the bloodlust they had suppressed for nearly ten thousand years made them completely ignore the grenades constantly exploding among them.
The dense forest of spears extended by the Valkyrie Corps seemed nonexistent in their eyes. They shoved against one another without dodging, letting the spears pierce their bodies as they crashed solidly into that wall of steel.
But the exhilarating scene of flesh and blood flying everywhere did not unfold as they wished. It was not that they did not want it to—it was that they could not. Every demon craved blood and surged forward, so those at the very front were instantly packed like canned goods between the Valkyrie line blocking them and their companions shoving from behind. Forget swinging their huge weapons; they did not even have room to lift their arms.
Thus, what should have been a fierce battlefield suddenly resembled holiday travel chaos. Both sides were jammed together, wrestling against each other and trying to break the other's formation through the most primitive, least technical method possible.
"Sisters, hold the line!" Sif, who had already joined the defensive formation, craned her neck