Above the mountains, inside the castle's first floor.
Hundreds of witches stood guard here. Most of them were first- or Second Order witches, cannon fodder among the witches.
The intense smell of burning filled the castle. Its main gates were tightly shut, and through the glass windows covered in energy veins, the witches could see what was happening outside.
West Harbor had now become a fiery hell. Some slaves who failed to escape in time were swallowed by the flames, yet they did not even have time to scream. Hades, a Third Order being, could burn them to ashes in an instant.
As the green flames burned West Harbor, they also formed a wall of fire around the castle. For some unknown reason, however, the green flames could not spread onto the castle. A golden band of light separated the green flames from it. The light also carried intense heat, and the two forces annihilated each other.
It was a full half hour before the green flames around the castle vanished. Gray smoke filled the surroundings, leaving visibility extremely poor.
Thud, thud, thud...
Heavy footsteps rang out. Hearing them, the witches on the castle's first floor crowded toward the windows.
Strands of white chill drifted through the air, standing out sharply in the smoke. Under the gazes of hundreds of witches, a small mountain slowly approached the castle.
Some witches blinked in disbelief. Soon, they understood why the small mountain was moving. Beneath it was an inconspicuous figure with horns on its head and the body of a minotaur. Its entire body was covered in brownish-yellow fur, and wisps of chill spread from it.
Compared with that small mountain, the minotaur-like creature was a mere dwarf. Although it was called a small mountain, its bulk was even greater than the