The aftermath of the battle was a grim silence broken only by the groans of the wounded and the distant crackle of fires still smoldering in the ruined city. Where the devil army had once thundered in numbers that blotted out hope, now only scattered corpses remained. Their bodies lay twisted and burned across the blood-soaked stone, black smoke rising from the carnage. The arena—the place that had nearly become their grave—was now their sole stronghold.
The commanders wasted no time. They knew the devils would regroup, and if they lingered unprepared, they would be annihilated.
"Secure the entrances!" one captain barked, his voice hoarse yet commanding. "Barricades up, double the guard rotations. If they come again, we will hold them here!"
