With the sound of shattering metal, the steel fork snapped.

Immediately after, Lu Renjia's greatsword came down heavily on a Little Inferior Demon's head, nearly splitting its skull in half.

Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, creating a gruesome scene.

The other Little Inferior Demons who witnessed this fell into a panic. They let out shrill cries and their assault faltered.

But Lu Renjia gave them no chance to breathe, continuing to wield his greatsword stained with a mix of black and red Demon Blood. Each swing took more lives.

The top half of one Little Inferior Demon's skull was sliced clean off, splattering blood and bone fragments onto the faces of two others, stunning them into stillness.

However, Lu Renjia's greatsword did not stop. With a heavy, terrifying whoosh, it swung down again, this time aiming for the two Little Inferior Demons frozen in fear.

With a scream, their bodies were severed at the waist. Their mangled torsos collapsed into a pool of blood, twitching until their last breath.

Meanwhile, the other side of the Long Spear Formation was also engaged in the most brutal of battles.

On this barricade of steel and flesh, the flank was protected by Olaf, the Berserker Heroic Spirit.

He wielded two Skeleton Battleaxes, his skeletal form larger than a typical Horned Demon and his strength no less than that of a Tyrant Demon.

As countless Little Inferior Demons surged forward like a tide, this Berserker Heroic Spirit did not opt for a defensive stance but chose the most direct and fierce strategy—an active assault.

Olaf resembled an enraged bull, his eyes blazing with Soul Fire.

He gripped the massive Skeleton Battleaxes tightly, the wind they generated roaring fiercely.

Neither the Little Inferior Demons nor the makeshift shelters built by the refugees could withstand the power of those battleaxes.

Wherever the axes passed, only ruins and shattered bodies were left behind.

The Little Inferior Demons clearly had not anticipated such a ferocious counterattack. Thrown into disarray by the sudden onslaught, they panicked and began to cluster together. The ones at the front tried to escape Olaf and his formidable giant axes but found themselves trapped.

Meanwhile, those at the back tried to block their comrades in the front, foolishly hoping to use their bodies to exhaust the giant's strength so they might survive.

In this brief skirmish, some of the smarter Little Inferior Demons chose a different strategy. They quickly dropped to the ground, curling up in the shadows of the shelters. Some even deliberately submerged themselves in pools of blood, pretending to be dead and hoping to ambush Olaf from behind after he charged past.

Such tactics might have worked in other situations, but today, they faced a keen-minded middle-aged Warrior NPC.

This Warrior, holding a longsword that gave off a faint glow, moved with deadly precision. Whenever a Little Inferior Demon tried to play dead, the middle-aged Warrior NPC's longsword would appear right behind it like a shadow. Accompanied by a short, shrill scream, these feigning demons truly met their end.

The Demon Battle Group's attacks on the front and flanks had failed to yield any results; instead, they had suffered unprecedentedly heavy losses.

The Tyrant Demon Commander's expression darkened as it was forced to acknowledge the unfavorable situation. Demons, after all, were creatures that lacked loyalty and honor. When they held the advantage, their ferocity was nearly unparalleled. However, once they saw their comrades falling one by one—pierced by spears and slain by swords—that ferocity vanished instantly, like a candle flame in the wind.

The Little Inferior Demons were the first to waver, their charge becoming hesitant and uncertain. Soon after, even the simple-minded Horned Demons began to lose their will to fight.

Another demonic howl erupted from the twisted, hideous mouth of the Tyrant Demon, shaking the entire battlefield. This wasn't just a simple roar; it was more like a call to gather Dark forces, heralding the devastating strike of the demon's ranged units.

Flame Demon Children and Fiery Demons with glowing hands strode forward, muttering demonic spell chants in a chorus that sent a chill down one's spine.

The Long Spear Formation, comprised of Shelter Guardians and Skeletons, was known for its tenacious defense and counterattacking capability. It was incredibly effective when resisting the charge of large numbers of Little Inferior Demons and Horned Demons. However, this advantage was based on a dense formation. If it was struck by a Fiery Demon's explosive fireball attack, the losses would be catastrophic.

At this thought, even Lu Renjia's expression changed slightly.

At this moment, a Heavy Armor Knight NPC stepped forward, brandishing a longsword. His voice thundered across the battlefield, "Cavalry, follow my command, prepare to charge!"

With the order given, the knights of the cavalry squad straightened their backs. Their breathing grew heavy, and their longswords shone coldly in the sunlight. The warhorses sensed their riders' fighting intent, snorting uneasily and stamping their hooves heavily on the ground. If not for the taut reins, the warhorses would have already neighed and launched the fiercest charge against the demon ranks.

However, at this critical moment, Fang Zhou's calm and resolute voice suddenly rang out.

"Wait a moment!"

"Senior Sergeant Fang Zhou, the demon's ranged troops are almost here! We must launch a counter-charge now, get close to those Fiery Demons to deal a heavy blow, otherwise..."

The Heavy Armor Knight NPC frowned, about to repeat the charge order, but then he saw streaks of blurred silver light flash across the sky.

These silver lights moved extraordinarily fast, almost too fast for the human eye to follow. They streaked through the sky like meteors and tore through the air like lightning, accurately plunging into the Demon Army.

A moment later, a deafening roar erupted from where the silver lights had disappeared. A massive fireball billowed into the air along with thick smoke, engulfing the surrounding demons in a sea of flames. The intense heat and shockwave from the fireball shook the entire battlefield.

Screams and wails intertwined, forming the battle's most horrific scene.

Countless Little Inferior Demons and Horned Demons were hurled into the air. They twisted and screamed as their bodies were lifted by some unseen force, then tossed aside like fallen leaves before crashing heavily to the ground, leaving chaos in their wake.

Those demons closest to the epicenter of the fiery blast faced an even more tragic fate. They didn't even have a chance to utter a final wail before they were shredded to pieces by the immense force, their torn flesh and limbs scattering across the battlefield in a chilling display. The air grew thick with the smell of blood and scorched remains, as if the entire world had frozen in that moment.

In the face of this sudden calamity, the Tyrant Demon, as the supreme being within the Demon Legion, had no choice but to temporarily cast aside its pride. Its massive body trembled with rage, its gaping maw opened wide, and it let out an ear-splitting roar filled with endless anger and frustration.

Its eyes, like molten lava, stared intently at the spot where the silver lights had struck. There, the once-calm ground had been blasted into a massive crater. The overwhelming smell of black smoke and sulfur rushed out, making it seem as if a gateway to the Abyss had been torn open. The sight was truly terrifying.

Just seconds ago, that location had been the gathering spot for dozens of Flame Demon Children and Fiery Demons. But now, it was all over.

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