Demon wars were always this boring. Formations? Didn't exist. Pre-battle fervor? Even less so. Heroes worthy of song and tears? That was assuming demons could even count as heroes...
In short, when demons fought, the usual situation was just smash, smash, smash!
Smash the enemy, smash their own people—when they went crazy, they'd even smash themselves!
It was nothing but a chaotic brawl. Once the fighting started, hardly anyone could tell friend from foe. After all, demons weren't like humans; they didn't use armor colors or banners to distinguish who was who.
To demons, anyone standing face-to-face with you was an enemy. No question about it.
Thus, the two sides fought furiously in the valley. As for how many were fighting their own allies, no one really knew. In any case, nobody cared. Just fight. As for who would ultimately win, that depended on the contest between the high-level combatants on both sides.
The moment Solam appeared, nearly every gaze on the opposing side locked onto him.
It couldn't be helped. A flashy man was like a firefly in the dead of night—impossible to hide.
Countless demons spotted Solam and charged straight at him. As for Solam's trashy underlings, they had at least sworn River Styx oaths with him, and those still had some binding force. So even the craziest demons knew to protect their boss. They immediately stepped in front of Solam and clashed noisily with the charging enemies.
It looked fairly convincing, though Solam found it utterly ridiculous.
Fuck, you were demons. You had spell-like abilities! Why were you brawling in close combat like those idiots? When they charged at you, couldn't you just use your spell-like abilities to take them out? Why stupidly watch them rush over and then start punching?
Had you eaten too much or