Over a hundred orange fireballs tore through the fog and rained down, blanketing the stretch of street where Trissy and the other two stood.
For a moment, both demigods, Trissy and Katarina, forgot about fighting each other and scrambled to evade the attacks in their own ways.
Boom! Boom!
Explosions erupted one after another, flames surging outward. Every window in the nearby houses shattered, and the buildings blackened and cracked.
As the bombardment briefly subsided, Katarina was about to demand to know who was interfering with their plans.
But before she could get the words out, another hundred-plus fireballs came raining down. They struck one after another, subjecting this stretch of Black Palm Street to something like a concentrated artillery barrage.
The violent explosions and searing flames left the three demigods no time for anything else. They could only devote all their efforts to saving themselves.
This was especially true of the two Demonesses, Katarina and Trissy. Their abilities were renowned for their uncanny nature, but their bodies were fragile. At least, they could not take a beating like an Imperative Mage could.
If so many fireballs focused on them, even demigods could find their lives in danger.
Normally, something like this almost never happened.
In the world of mysticism, people at their level might face one or two Iron-blooded Knights, but rarely an entire crowd of Pyromaniacs.
Judging by the number of fireballs, at least dozens, if not a hundred, Pyromaniacs had to be attacking together to produce such an effect.
Katarina was momentarily bewildered.
She had no idea where so many Pyromaniacs had come from.
How could so many Pyromaniacs have poured into Backlund without being discovered?
These questions surfaced in her mind one after another.
At last.
The bombardment stopped.
The street had been reduced to utter