"L-Lord Kieran, the infidels are attacking our base! Seeking backup!"
"Lord Kieran, our defences have been breached, we ask for help!"
"Lord Kieran, our thirty-second stronghold has fallen! We are retreating!"
"Lord Kie-...!"
As the night deepened, the Demon Cult's headquarters descended into chaos. One report after another flooded in like a relentless tide, each worse than the last.
Kieran, the Apostle of Domination, felt as though his very hair would fall out from the stress. Six hours had passed since Leon's daring rescue of Sir Arthur… and in that short span, the Cult's world had begun to crumble.
Before the Cult could even organise a countermeasure, Eldorin struck back with terrifying precision. Yue's Monarch-tier spirits, each one a being capable of matching an eight-circle mage, led the assaults with inhuman coordination. Entire bases, fortified with barriers, sentries, and mana obelisks, fell in mere minutes.
