After bidding farewell to its former dullness, the Thunderclap White Plains welcomed upheaval amid thunderous roars.
Within Ironflame City, shrouded by the Barrier of Ten Thousand Eyes, the mechanized Mountain of Withering roared toward the sky. Black grease spewed from its mouth and nose, falling through the air and igniting clusters of emerald flames.
Wherever the flames spread, the burly Minotaur warriors atop the walls screamed miserably, struggling to move their limbs before tumbling from the battlements.
They burned in midair, becoming handfuls of ash that scattered in the wind.
Vanishing without a trace.
The volcano raged. Amid the horde, the Crowned Ones among the two Stone-Melt Demon Dragons struck out furiously. One extended from the volcano, sweeping through the attacking legions amid surging scarlet heat and spreading death.
Another was a worm covered in festering sores. It wrapped around the shell of the Mountain of Withering and spewed venom and plague from its gaping maw.
Those living germs could even corrode and parasitize steel, rapidly causing one enormous pustule after another to grow across the metallic shell.
The Mountain of Withering howled in pain.
Its furnace overloaded.
A dragon-like stream of flame spewed from its mouth and swept across the demon dragon, but it was useless. Amid pain enough to shatter souls, the terrifying body of the Mountain of Withering abruptly twisted around. Several hands seized the plague-spreading demon dragon on its back and tore with all their might, ripping away vast sections of iron shell along with it.
It clutched the massive demon dragon in its hands and twisted furiously, as though wringing out a rag, squeezing out torrents of filthy blood. Yet the Crowned One immediately shattered into two pieces, then four, then eight, until it finally burrowed into the Mountain of Withering's body like countless maggots.