Damn it, why do I feel… insulted by this sight?
But of course, how could I not? These flesh-born creatures were hideous, twisted mockeries, obviously modeled after us. The resemblance was crude, imperfect, but unmistakable. It was as though Fleshheart had copied their forms, only to produce grotesque imitations with poor craftsmanship.
And yet, despite their ugly appearance, their strength was undeniable. Every single one of them carried the aura of a demigod-level existence. In sheer numbers, there were dozens—no, hundreds—standing here.
Such a display was proof enough of Fleshheart's power as a Fake God-tier being. Its methods were terrifying indeed.
But so what?
No matter how clever or resourceful Fleshheart was, once it had been targeted by our Emperor Daniel, there was only one possible ending—death.
And as expected, events unfolded exactly as the human awakeners had foreseen.
