In the Demonic Dragon Legion's camp, every tent and building had been reduced to rubble. Massive magic teleportation arrays blazed with dazzling light as wave after wave of abyssal creatures—dragonkin, dwarves, titans, and more—poured out onto the ground. One of Diogo's heads suddenly tilted back and roared, "My warriors, kill these damned stinking shepherds!"
A mage corps made up of abyssal imps suddenly surged out of one magic teleportation array. Nearly ten thousand imps, each capable of casting no more than a small fireball, raised their wands at once. Amid shrill incantations, from three to five, or even dozens, of fist-sized fireballs burst forth around every imp.
Hundreds of thousands of small fireballs howled out, sweeping across the nomad army's camp like a storm. Wherever they passed, countless nomad warriors were pierced through before they could even mount their beasts, or simply blasted to pieces by the exploding flames.
Countless low-ranking abyssal creatures flooded from the magic arrays like a tide. These abyssal creatures all possessed an instinct for casting magic. Their spells might not have been powerful, but their numbers were overwhelming. When countless fireballs poured down from the sky, even Saint-realm powerhouses could not help revealing despairing expressions.
"I've had enough of you stinking shepherds!" Diogo threw back his heads and howled with laughter. "What do you take the great Diogo for? A tool for you to toy with? Wrong! You are utterly, completely wrong! Diogo is going to become the master of this world!"
An old man dressed in coarse linen shot hurriedly into the air and angrily blocked Diogo's path. "What exactly is going on? Are you really Diogo, or... no, no, impossible. A mere Abyssal Dragon King could never withstand..."
Diogo incinerated the old man into ash with a breath of dragonfire. A sinister, crafty