William had only ever heard stories of the frontlines from his father. Tales of chaos, of fear, of men standing against monsters that should not exist. But seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely.
His eyes stayed wide, tracking every movement, every spell, every counter without missing a beat. Attacks overlapped, defenses shifted, and formations changed in real time. It was violent. It was precise.
And it was intoxicating.
"Holy shit… this is awesome," he muttered under his breath, a grin spreading across his face despite the carnage.
To his left, a small unit had engaged a grotesque Devil, its towering frame covered in warped flesh and jagged growths. They kept it pinned with relentless elemental pressure, never allowing it a moment to stabilize.
Three sorcerers stood at the core of the assault, each wielding a blade instead of a staff.
The first moved forward and drove his weapon into the ground.
Crackle
