Morgans's Lens

On the battlefield, Elbaf and Mary Geoise had become two tireless giant meat grinders.

The air here was thick with blood and gunpowder, as though every breath could suffocate a person.

The warriors' battle cries, the clash of steel, and the thunderous stomping of Giants intertwined into a symphony of death, tearing apart this land that had once been peaceful.

In Elbaf, the Giants stood across the battlefield like mountains. Every blow of their fists and every step they took stirred up fierce gales, smashing their enemies into fragments.

Every Giant warrior's face was filled with the resolve and fearlessness of a bloody battle, yet their eyes also held no shortage of pain and despair.

As the fighting continued, one once-unyielding warrior after another fell, and fresh corpses constantly filled the battlefield.

Though the Giants were powerful, faced with countless enemies, even their bodies gradually began to falter. Blood and sweat mingled together, and few could still maintain their initial composure.

Meanwhile, the situation at Mary Geoise showed no sign of improving.

The once-lofty Holy Land had now become the forefront of war.

On its streets, corpses were piled like mountains. The once-glorious palaces had also been dyed crimson by artillery fire and bloodshed.

The Five Elders, in their monstrous forms, continuously swung their bloodstained blades as they pursued every warrior attempting to escape. Mary Geoise's walls, too, crumbled amid repeated explosions.

Even beings as powerful as the Five Elders were being worn down on this battlefield. They were constantly buried beneath the corpses of fallen warriors, as though those bodies were devouring their strength and lives.

In these two places, the value of life had nearly fallen to zero.

Every soldier, enemy or ally, seemed to leave behind little trace.

Their lives and deaths had become insignificant gears in