While guarding Frostfire Fortress, Reinhardt had witnessed the Abyss Demon Army on the Northern Icefield, an endless, oppressive, and deathly silent horde.
But now, standing on the earthen and stone walls of Baihe Town—walls that looked like a strong gust of wind could topple them—and gazing out at the boundless Northern Grassland and the unbroken chain of the Dark Grey Mountain Range, he couldn't begin to count how many soldiers the Scaya Dragonfolk had amassed. They were a tide of death, swallowing the land.
'Ten times the strength of the Abyss Legion?'
'Or more?'
Bloodstains, not yet fully dry, clung to Reinhardt's body. At his feet, a Scaya Dragon Descendant rider, over two meters tall, was still clinging to life.
It had a draconic head on a humanoid body, covered in fine, dark red scales, with sharp spikes protruding from its joints.
