The demon army settled into formation, towering titans at the front, lesser horrors behind them, the sky swarming with black-winged silhouettes.
As the final banners fell into place, a deep tremor rippled across the plains, and then, the rifts began closing, collapsing on themselves as reality corrected itself.
In a matter of moments, the massive tears in reality were sealed shut, leaving only the lingering stain of their dark mana behind. A wave of cold swept the battlefield, and silence, unnatural, oppressive, descended once more.
For a heartbeat, no one on the walls breathed, as hope flickered. Maybe... Maybe the Sin Duke wouldn't come, and maybe this force was all they had to face.
A dozen soldiers whispered it, a hundred dared to think it, and hundreds let their shoulders loosen just slightly, as one thought flashed in their minds, that maybe fate had spared them one impossible enemy.
But hope lived only long enough to be crushed.
