Faced with the Tyrant Demon's onslaught, the Light Cavalry lost the ferocity they usually showed when charging into battle. They could only watch helplessly as the destructive figure drew nearer step by step, their hearts filling with despair.

With each swing, the fiery Greatsword left dazzling trails in the air, like bolts of lightning striking from the sky, mercilessly hewing down riders and their warhorses alike. Every flash of the blade was accompanied by a scream, as blood and dust mingled to create a tragic tableau on the battlefield.

The Tyrant Demon's assault was unstoppable. Its heavy footfalls made the warhorses falter, and some, overcome with fear, lost control and bolted, dragging their masters in a frantic attempt to escape the horrifying battlefield.

In the distance, fighting amidst the swarm of Little Inferior Demons on the left flank, the middle-aged Warrior NPC witnessed it all.

A surge of indescribable fear rose within him; the feeling of being shrouded in the shadow of death nearly paralyzed him. However, when he saw the maelstrom of blood the Tyrant Demon was creating among the cavalry, he knew that true fear was not death itself, but submission to it. At this moment of life and death, he had to step up and set an example for the young soldiers.

Gritting his teeth, the middle-aged Warrior NPC let out a deafening roar that echoed across the battlefield like thunder. Without hesitation, he strode forward and charged toward the Tyrant Demon. The enormous War Axe in his hand carved trails of light through the air, each swing accompanied by a WHOOSH.

Wherever the axe fell, the limbs of Little Inferior Demons were sent flying, and the air grew thick with the heavy stench of blood. Terrified by this sudden counterattack, the remaining Little Inferior Demons shrieked and fell back, trying to escape the nightmarish battle.

The middle-aged Warrior NPC charged over the corpses of the Little Inferior Demons, lunging for the Tyrant Demon's back. His movements were swift and decisive, and his killing intent was so overwhelming that the Tyrant Demon sensed the threat, forcing it to halt its advance.

The Tyrant Demon spun around, its fiery Greatsword letting out a shrill howl as it slashed through the air. The Warrior NPC met the attack with his demon-bloodstained War Axe. The two weapons clashed, sending sparks flying with an ear-piercing CLANG.

The Warrior barely parried a heavy chop from the Tyrant Demon, then roared in defiance and counterattacked. His War Axe grazed the armor on the Tyrant Demon's chest, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The Tyrant Demon took half a step back. It glanced at the shallow scratch on its chest plate, and a flicker of cold killing intent flashed in its blood-red eyes.

The middle-aged Warrior NPC defiantly roared and raised his War Axe high with powerful arms, but a thin trickle of blood was already seeping from between his knuckles and snaking its way down his arm.

The War Axe and the fiery Greatsword clashed again and again. The resulting sparks, bright as lightning, illuminated their faces. However, this resistance was not destined to last. This was clearly not a battle between equals.

Within the Shelter, the middle-aged Warrior was a giant of a man, but before the Tyrant Demon, he was at an absolute disadvantage in both strength and stature. The gulf between them was, in truth, an insurmountable chasm born from racial differences.

Soon, the webbing of the Warrior's hands tore open, soaking his forearms in blood. Yet, even before his numb arms gave out, his War Axe was the first to yield. This weapon, once his pride, had survived a hundred battles without a scratch.

But in the fierce clash against the Tyrant Demon's fiery Greatsword, it finally gave out with a loud CRACK and snapped in two.

The Tyrant Demon's laughter echoed over the battlefield—a triumphant, maniacal roar that seemed capable of tearing souls apart. In the sunset's afterglow, its fiery Greatsword burned even hotter. It unleashed a flurry of precise and lethal strikes, a woven web of sword light that forced the Warrior into a desperate corner.

The Warrior managed to raise his broken axe to parry a few more blows, but under the Tyrant Demon's relentless assault, he heard the sickening crunch of his own bones breaking.

As the deadly waterfall of flame descended once more, a flicker of despair flashed in the Warrior's eyes. He summoned his last ounce of strength to raise the broken axe over his head, but an intense, prickling numbness instantly swept through his body, like the biting of a thousand ants, rendering his movements sluggish and powerless. He could only watch helplessly as the flames drew closer, his heart filled with bitter unwillingness.

Is this my end? the weary Warrior NPC wondered blankly.

At that critical moment, a white figure shot out from behind like a phantom, crashing into the Warrior and knocking him out of death's path.

It was an Elite Giant Shield Skeleton enhanced by the Crowned with Death skill.

It raised its giant shield high, fearlessly facing the wrath of the Tyrant Demon.

The fiery Greatsword slammed into the shield with a deafening ROAR.

The shield shattered instantly, but the skeleton, with astonishing tenacity, absorbed most of the impact. The Tyrant Demon's power was simply too terrifying, however. The residual force of the blow split the skeleton's skull, and its entire upper body exploded into countless fragments that rained across the battlefield.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.