The din of battle gradually faded, leaving only the dying echoes of chainsword engines, the stifled groans of the wounded, and the faint sounds of soldiers clearing the battlefield.
The air reeked of scorched arcane residue, the sulfurous stench of demon blood, and the thick, cloying smell of gore.
Little Knife flicked the blood off his chainsword, then lowered his head to inspect the mangled corpse of the Six-Armed Serpent Demon on the ground and nodded in satisfaction.
"A worthy opponent.
All right, brothers, time to move. We've got a lot to do and not much time!"
At his command, the troops swiftly gathered their gear and set off again. Heavy, measured footsteps rang out once more as the players marched through shattered streets and burning ruins toward the World Tree, flintlocks resting on their shoulders.
Among them, the elven ranger who had helped the Mountain Tiger Warband quietly caught up, following behind Little Knife.
Little Knife glanced back at the elf but paid him no mind... This was the long-ears' territory. He could follow if he wanted, so long as he stayed out of the way.
Heavy, measured footsteps echoed through the shattered streets as the troops marched silently between smoke and ruins.
The elven ranger followed Knife-in-the-Butt at a moderate distance. After observing this disciplined yet peculiar band of humans for a while, he finally could no longer contain his curiosity.
He quickened his pace to walk beside Knife-in-the-Butt, his clear voice breaking the silence of their march.
"Warriors from afar, your valor is impressive, but at a time like this, what is your objective?"
Aether's voice was calm. He wanted to discover the intentions of these humans with their strange equipment and fearless fighting style. The answer would determine where he went next.
Knife-in-the-Butt did not even