As those Fog Demons vanished, from the mountain ranges far out on the edge of the battlefield there suddenly rose a vast chorus of leering laughter.
The Ember Knight in charge of slaughtering the Fog Demons could tell at once: that was the cry of the Fog Demons.
So he simply gave chase directly.
Yet as they pushed through the forest thinned by battle and laid eyes on those Fog Demons, a jolt of horror abruptly rose in their hearts.
The Fog Demons were hunting down every other living creature in these mountains.
The big ones like wolves and bears, the small ones like squirrels and sparrows.
All of them were cackling, driving sharp claws into bodies of flesh and blood.
And the moment their prey met Death, they lost all interest, turning away to hunt the next creature.
The corpses they cast aside looked as though something had sucked them dry, shriveling at a speed visible to the naked eye, even their fur losing all luster.
