Demon God's Descent

"Kill him!"

The voice was as shrill as a rusty saw scraping against glass, piercing enough to make one's eardrums ache.

"Those two wastes, Ignatius and Yadar, both died by his hand. Everyone, attack together!"

Vissel spoke coldly. Ghostly flames of venomous hatred burned in his dark green eyes, as if he wanted to devour the young man before him alive.

However, his commanding air had not lasted even half a second before an impatient, faintly mocking male voice came from beneath a black robe beside him.

"Vissel, you have no right to command us."

"Shut up!"

Vissel's face twitched violently. His features, covered in black patterns, instantly twisted like a sheet of cheap paper that had been crumpled up.

He abruptly turned his head and glared viciously at the black-robed figure who had spoken. The latter merely gave a disdainful snort. From the shadows beneath his hood, two blade-like gazes emerged and met his without the slightest fear.

This was the so-called alliance: a pack of wolves with their own schemes, already baring their fangs over spoils and status before their prey had even fallen.

Dago stood in the distance and shook his head helplessly.

Former "enemies" had met again, yet the scene was absurd enough to make one laugh.

Aside from growing somewhat stronger in a way that made him sick, Vissel the madman's mind apparently had not improved with his power. He was still as self-righteous as ever, arrogant like a toad at the bottom of a well.

Still, even if someone had undermined Vissel, it was merely internal discord.

Before a greater threat, wolves ultimately understood how to cooperate.

After all, Dago was the "variable" they all had to erase.

On the field, the Black-Robed Wizards of the Revival Society slowly began to move.

The air