A broken longsword traced an arc through the sky before finally burying itself in the flagstones. Its hilt was still trembling, firelight and Fifteen's upturned face reflected on the blade.
Amid a heap of fallen Demon Race and human corpses, Fifteen looked up at the sky. "Master—"
Two pitch-black spheres hung in the sky. They were the sealed Number Ten and the Sword Saint.
The Demon King, who possessed the [Undying] skill, naturally knew perfectly well how to deal with these Mushroom Race members who could keep reviving.
Farther away, with a rumble, a small mushroom cloud shot into the sky. Number Nine, who had been taking a beating all this time, finally reached his limit and self-destructed, filled with grief and rage.
The Abyss Beast, covered in wounds but still able to move, walked out of the explosion.
Looking at the Empire army steadily advancing not far away, Fifteen could only grit his teeth and retreat in the end.
Although the Inner City's defensive shield had been broken, quite a few Magic Towers remained. For now, they could only rely on those Magic Towers to make their final stand.
After Fifteen left, a beast hoof stepped onto the avenue dyed red with blood.
Sigismund sat astride a War Beast. With a lift of his hand, the blood around him was slowly raised, gathering into countless weapons that hovered at his sides.
"Continue advancing. No need to leave anyone alive."
At his command, the Demon Race soldiers stepped over the corpses on the ground, howling wildly as they closed in on the Inner City.
Thud—!
Just then, a muffled boom came from far away. Sigismund looked in the direction of the sound and saw a huge cloud of dust rise from an area where the inner and outer city met.