Cheers still echoed across the battlefield, but the fleeing Fierce Beasts had no attention to spare for them.
To them, the death of the eighth-tier Winged Queen was no different from the sky collapsing.
The world of Fierce Beasts was more naked and more brutal than that of humans.
An eighth-tier Fierce Beast was a being capable of claiming territory as its kingdom and commanding countless beasts.
Her aura, her oppressive presence, her every breath-all of it formed the backbone of the entire horde.
The low-tier Fierce Beasts needed no understanding of tactics or strategy. They only needed to follow that aura, to follow that dark-gold figure. Wherever she charged, they charged.
But now, that aura was gone.
It had not been concealed or moved far away. It had been utterly erased from this world.
A fourth-tier wolf-like Fierce Beast was the first to stop charging.
It lifted its head, its nose twitching as it desperately sniffed the air for something.
Nothing. There was nothing.
The aura that had inspired awe in the depths of its soul, the aura that had made it willingly cross a thousand miles of rocky desert to charge at this human city, had vanished completely.
Its ears flattened against its head, its tail tucked between its legs, and a low whimper escaped its throat.
Then it turned and ran.
Like the first domino falling, the wave of retreat began with this fourth-tier Fierce Beast,
and rapidly spread throughout the entire beast tide.
Two beasts, ten, a hundred...
More and more Fierce Beasts stopped attacking and looked around blankly. Then, driven by the fear rising from deep within, they joined the fleeing ranks.
On the walls, the Sequence Users saw it happen.
"The Fierce Beasts are retreating! They're retreating!"
No one knew who shouted first. The