Black flames and crimson lightning ravaged both sides of the battlefield.
Every swing of Damian's fan unleashed a storm of destruction. Black fire swallowed entire clusters of Totem Beasts, reducing their bodies to ashes, while crimson lightning tore through the advancing horde with enough force to shatter the ground beneath them. Hundreds perished with every attack.
Yet the Tide showed no signs of ending.
The dead were trampled beneath the feet of those advancing behind them. More beasts emerged from the darkness, climbing over the corpses of their fallen kin as though their deaths meant nothing. The battlefield had become a sea of monstrous bodies, and Damian was standing in the middle of it.
His crimson eyes narrowed. This was exactly what the Abyss had warned him about.
