At the same time, Wargon's roar echoed across the ruined plain like an explosion.
His rage was so dense that it made the air tremble. His eyes were red, not from wounds, but from humiliation.
The more he thought about it, the more his anger and shame grew. His eyes were bloodshot, and with every part of his being he wanted to tear that human apart with his own hands.
No… tearing him apart was not enough. He wanted to inflict every possible form of torture on that human and on those closest to him, and then kill all of them in the most brutal way imaginable.
Only something like that could calm his rage.
He swept his gaze across the battlefield; demon corpses were scattered everywhere.
Not just ordinary soldiers, but elites, field commanders, and A-rank demons that took years to cultivate.
Demons did not have endless numbers like humans. Every demon was an investment. And here… an entire generation had been wiped out.
