The steel screamed against bone and flesh as the Black Plain soaked up a fetid mixture of human blood and demonic bile. Sulyvhan stood at the center of the cyclone of violence, his long silver hair whipping the air saturated with ashes. His eyes showed no fatigue despite the hours of fierce combat. Every movement of his blade was a death sentence. Around him, his regular troops, led by Ashborn and Stavenger, held the lines with iron discipline, but the tide of monsters seemed inexhaustible.
Suddenly, a dull vibration ran through the ground, different from the trampling of the hobgoblins. The purple sky tore under the impact of four meteors of pure mana. Four balls of energy, each glowing with a distinct color, sliced through the clouds of blood to crash with unheard-of violence only a few meters from Sulyvhan. The shockwave pulverized a dozen minor demons that were trying to encircle the human leader, reducing them to a dust of charred bone and flesh.
