Just as he charged through the space rift, Jeming felt a sudden wave of dizziness, as if someone had struck him on the back of the head with a blunt object.
But he immediately steadied himself, recovering almost instantly.
"Captain?" came the inquiry from behind him.
"It's nothing." Jeming raised his hand in a reassuring gesture, but his gaze had already swept forward.
Having crossed the pitch-black space rift, these thousand men appeared high in the sky at the rear of the battlefield.
In front was the Witch Army—millions of wizards arrayed in formation, various Rune Cannon Towers stood tall, and the Energy Shields glimmered faintly in the air.
Even further, the horizon was black with the enemy forces.
At this moment, the witch army's rear guard had already turned their guns toward them.
"Reinforcements?" A Sixth Level Wizard flew out from the formation, his voice filled with vigilance, "At this point in time?"
