"It seems like they are holding up quite nicely," Veremos spoke, seated tall and resolute on his majestic steed, surrounded by the formidable presence of his wives.
Each of them was adorned in distinct, elaborate attire that reflected their individuality. Their gazes remained fixed on the turbulent battlefield ahead as they stood steadfastly by their husband's side.
Veremos's magical eye, an otherworldly jewel gleaming with ancient power, granted him a panoramic view of the chaotic front lines.
Through its ethereal sight, he could discern the valiant heroes, their resolve slowly but surely gaining the upper hand against his loyal forces, pushing them relentlessly.
"Ahh, these heroes, always getting on my nerves." Veremos muttered with a hint of frustration, his iridescent eye shifting back to its mortal state.
He turned towards Erza, one of his wives, her elegance and strength a reflection of the women who rode with him into battle.
