As demons poured out in overwhelming numbers, the Frost Giants' individual advantages became utterly useless. After all, the demons held the upper hand, and whenever they did, they became warriors who fought to the death without retreating, daring to face blood and gore head-on. When they went mad, they truly did not care about their lives. That was not a figure of speech—they genuinely treated their own lives as worthless.
Countless demons swarmed the Frost Giants. The Frost Giants struggled in every direction, but no matter how many demons they killed, it was useless, because even more would continue throwing themselves at them. For the Frost Giants' massive bodies, this was absolutely not a good situation.
Very soon, the first Frost Giant fell. More than a dozen Dretches clung to his right leg, tearing open his pants with their claws before biting and ripping at his flesh. Those were merely minor wounds; with one stomp, the Frost Giant sent the Dretches flying off his leg. But in that brief opening, a Hezrou drove its claws into his eyes. Though he smashed the Hezrou's head apart with a backhanded punch, he was still blinded.
Soon afterward, another demon took advantage of his blindness and bit down on his throat, tearing his windpipe out alive. The Frost Giant's fate after that was obvious: the demons tore him into pieces and swallowed them whole.
With the first Frost Giant's fall, the Frost Giants began collapsing one after another like dominoes. The scales began tipping toward the demons.
But at that moment, an even more absurd scene unfolded.
The demons had been fighting perfectly well, yet they suddenly and inexplicably began fighting among themselves...
Didn't expect that, did you?
But these idiots really did it! Their overwhelming advantage suddenly became rather precarious.
Solam watched