"That's impossible!"
Baal let out a furious roar. With a single slash, he forced back the opponent before him, then fixed his gaze on those resurrected human powerhouses.
"I cut off your heads with my own hands! I watched you get blasted into dust with my own eyes!"
No one answered him.
Only an even fiercer wave of attacks came crashing down like a flood.
And just as Baal was barely managing to steady his footing, another twelve streaks of light appeared at the edge of the Godscar.
Daniel had returned to the battlefield, leading the twelve powerhouses he had just revived.
Baal's pupils contracted sharply.
He recognized every one of those twelve people.
Every single one of them should have been a corpse long since dead.
Even the shattered remains of their bodies were still scattered across the battlefield.
"What kind of joke is this?!"
Baal felt an overwhelming sense of futility, as though all his efforts had come to nothing.
