The clash at the Devil King's gates dragged on, neither side yielding, neither side breaking.
Steel rang ceaselessly, halberds clashing with glaives, arrows hissing into the gloom only to be shattered by demon shields. The humans had adapted quickly—shield lines rotating, mages casting in disciplined volleys—but their enemies were no less cunning. The Demon King's guards had fought countless invaders across centuries; they responded to each new tactic with brutal countermeasures.
A wave of demons pushed forward in tight formation, their glaives weaving a deadly net that forced the Royal Guards back step by step. At once, Vanguard fighters slipped between the halberd lines, striking at exposed flanks, while mages froze the gaps to halt the momentum. For a heartbeat the humans surged, but then the demons adjusted, breaking formation into pairs that fought like dueling predators, cutting down any who dared to come close.
The ground between them became a killing floor.
