The battlefield behind me was nothing but a graveyard now, a sprawling wasteland of severed limbs, shattered bones, and oceans of demon blood. But it wasn't enough. Six thousand dead, and yet there were more. I couldn't let them live, their presence was a dark pulse on the edge of my senses, spreading far beyond the horizon.
"Come, Tophet!"
The city of Enoquia awaited. Their capital, their stronghold. If the horde I had just cut through was half of their strength, then Enoquia would be crawling with the rest of them—their leaders, their soldiers, their civilians. All of them.
I couldn't stop yet.
