The combined might of the major factions was truly frightening. Their collective pressure seemed to warped the air, turning it suffocating.
Even from the incomprehensible distance each soul in the span watched from, they could feel it, the power, the might, the sheer weight of the major factions.
Their absoluteness had long been etched into the minds of many. Until this devil god appeared, none had ever seen them lose.
And now, with their entire forces gathered, elites to cannon fodder, no one could imagine them losing.
Yet, the moment the screen shifted to Eldoralth's lines, a ripple ran through the hearts of the people.
To face the incoming tide… they had sent only one person?
Atticus Ravenstein.
"Tch… the kid's too arrogant."
"He really is. Didn't even try to save face. Even if we win like this, it won't send the message we want."
"…Yeah. Right now, we just look like a bunch of grown men ganging up on a child."
