PS: Background BGM for this chapter: Protectors of the Earth
Prime Material Plane, Northlands, Minas Tirith.
It had been exactly fifteen days since this most prosperous White City had come under siege from a tide of demons pouring forth from the abyss.
And the hearts of the city's citizens had hung suspended through fifteen days and nights.
In a war between ordinary human city-states on the Prime Material Plane, a siege lasting half a month would be an utterly ordinary timeframe—often, it would only mean the war had just begun.
But if the besieging force were replaced by demons from the Bottomless Abyss—
Then perhaps only the elven empires of Myth Drannor and Illefarn, which had successively vanished into the dust of history, and the Zelandia Warriors now fighting to defend the front lines of the First City, could so keenly understand the mountain-like, sea-like terror of resisting the demonic tide—the helplessness and despair of slowly suffocating, as though one's blood were being drained away drop by drop.
Helplessness and despair!
Yes, only despair could describe it.
For chaotic demons, on a battlefield like this, when faced with a situation that was practically a certain victory, were like a crowd pumped full of adrenaline. Born in the cruelest, harshest abyss itself, they simply knew no fatigue, feared no pain, and ignored the looming threat of death.
They needed no sleep, so the demons' offensive went on day and night, without rest or end!
They needed no logistics either. When people saw those ravenous demons on the battlefield picking up the corpses of fallen comrades and gnawing at them in a weeping frenzy, it was itself the deadliest form of Mental Erosion!
They were natural-born powerful warriors with instincts for slaughter. Even human soldiers trained for years held not the slightest