"Enemy numbers? Composition?" Long Zhan asked calmly.
Fendona looked puzzled. Lin Mo realized she could not understand him and immediately translated.
"I couldn't see clearly. A dark mass, covering the hills and plains... there must be close to a hundred thousand!" Fendona's voice was filled with anguish.
"There are also countless flying magical beasts and giant siege beasts!"
A hundred thousand!
Lin Mo's head buzzed.
He translated the situation. Long Zhan and Zhao Gang exchanged a glance, each seeing the same word in the other's eyes-hopeless.
"Our fighting strength?" Long Zhan continued asking through the Portal. (Note: with Lin Mo there, I won't describe every translation, lest you accuse me of padding.)
Fendona glanced at the formation of Elven troops at the valley entrance, her voice strained.
"Five thousand elite Elven guards, and a dozen or so people from the Holy Human Race... High Archbishop Kael needs to maintain the Portal. He can't fight."
Five thousand against a hundred thousand-a drop in the bucket.
And they were poorly equipped troops armed with cold steel, facing a Demon Clan that fought without fear of death.
This was no battle. It was a massacre.
Lin Mo felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
He looked at the Portal, still slowly expanding, then at Fendona's despairing face on the other side. An unprecedented sense of helplessness gripped him.
They were so close.
Just three more-no, two and a half hours.
Once the Portal opened fully, the twenty-five-thousand-strong torrent of steel behind him could go through and help.
But now, those two and a half hours had become an insurmountable chasm.
If the Portal was destroyed...
All his efforts, and all of Great Xia's, would come to nothing.
Blue Star's future, the Terra Continent's hope...