Dean checked his Colt revolver and newly enchanted shotgun, then murmured to Sam, "Hey, look at this formation. Feels like we're about to storm a medieval castle—except the enemy's a bunch of horned bastards."
Sam felt the power surging within him, his expression grave. "The larger the scale, the greater the danger. Be careful, Dean. I can sense more than one powerful evil presence in the town."
As the sun gradually sank, it seemed to draw back a blood-red curtain for the battle to come.
Several hundred demon hunters—the fledgling force that had risen from scattered individuals into a united front—were like swords about to leave their sheaths, their blades pointed straight at Rust Town, shrouded in darkness.
The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, steel, sweat, and a tense atmosphere filled with "hope."
"It's time. Everyone, follow me!" David glanced at his watch and shouted to the crowd.
The roar from the abandoned logistics warehouse district was like a boulder thrown into stagnant water, stirring a response from the demons within Rust Town.
As David Xavier swung his heavy enchanted battle axe down, the long-silent bloodlust and fury of the demon hunters were completely ignited.
They became a tide tearing through the setting sun, surging forward as though they meant to rip apart all darkness, fight for humanity's chance at survival, and stop the night from falling.
David Xavier led the charge.
His body, twenty years younger and brimming with strength, was like a human-shaped tank.
There were no flashy techniques—only killing skills tempered through countless battles and ingrained into instinct.
The two-handed battle axe, as broad as a door, seemed weightless in his hands, yet every swing tore through the air with a shrill howl.
A low-ranking berserker demon covered in black mist had just lunged