The next day, the Reconnaissance Airship spotted signs of demons on the ground.
The demons had come out in full force.
The Reconnaissance Airship sounded the alarm, but the Stuen Ratfolk still showed no intention of retreating.
The Rodent Clan had been bombed by Gargoyles for a full day, and the bombardment was still going. If the strength they had shown was all they possessed, they could never withstand the surging Demon Tide.
Unless they were absurdly insane, there was only one possibility left: they actually believed they could handle it.
The outline of the Demon Tide appeared on the horizon, stretching beyond sight.
Ratfolk usually drowned their enemies in a Rat Tide. How did it feel to have the demons return the favor?
There were only a few hundred thousand low-ranking demons, but they were no expendable Slave Rats. Whether fighting alone or in groups, each was a match for an Elite Rat.
And that was without counting the Berserkers, Succubi, and other mainstays, or the Demon Warlords, Glabrezus, and other high-ranking demons...
The Demon Warlords looked exactly like the Hellfire soldiers Annan had imagined: three-meter-tall bodies, purple-black skin covered in cracked, magma-like patterns, and two horns shaped like a crown.
The Elite Rats' scrap-metal weapons had no hope of piercing that natural hide. Even Champion Rats had to gang up on a Demon Warlord to fight it to a draw.
And the Demon Tide contained dozens of them.
A Rodent Clan elder, Cockroach Snake, shrieked, "They're here!"
The fel-energy barrier they had refused to activate throughout the previous day finally rose.
The Six-Armed Snake Demon, who had come to the battlefield herself, sneered. "What good is hiding in your shell now?"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
To the beat of war drums, the Demon Tide slammed into the fel-energy