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The expedition's relentless bombardment lasted for a full hour.
Kwaaaang!
Kwaaang!
While the artillery rained down on the fortress, the mobile units, led personally by Halo and the other commanders, struck at the demons and demonic monsters spilling out beyond the outer walls.
The acrid stench of burning flesh mingled with the chorus of screams that echoed across the battlefield.
Perched on Gratia's back, Caron glanced down and allowed a sly smile to creep across his lips, then remarked, "Charming, isn't it? The nature of warfare has shifted so much, yet they're still clinging to such outdated tactics."
"I seem to recall this plan came from the commanders' minds, not yours," Gratia said dryly. "But oath-bearer, you certainly are shameless. Weren't you the one whose original plan was to just charge the demonic monsters head-on—"
"I was merely offering some variety in tactics," Caron interrupted with mock innocence.
It was a brutal—no, an utterly merciless—war of firepower.
The commanders, gathered from across nations, discarded their old doctrines and embraced something altogether different.
This overwhelming firepower was the very strategy the Demon Realm expedition prided itself on. It was a campaign that couldn't be carried out by anyone but...
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