The battlefield had long since descended into something far worse than chaos.
What had begun as an organized defense had shattered into fragmented pockets of survival, each group of soldiers and mercenaries fighting their own desperate battle against an enemy that did not tire, did not falter, and most dangerously… did not lose coordination.
The second wave of demons crashed into the already strained lines with terrifying precision, not like a mindless surge but like a calculated push designed to break what little structure remained.
Where shields had once formed an unbroken wall, there were now gaps—small at first, but growing wider with every passing second. Through those gaps, demons poured in like floodwater, tearing into isolated groups of defenders before they could reform.
