It was just a single night.
Yet, for those of the Desolate Tide, it was nearly the darkest hours.
They were not faced with a direct attack, but the intelligence they received, the facts they understood, all told them that their base, their family members, had been thoroughly targeted by an extremely terrifying adversary.
So far, most of their bases they knew about had been completely destroyed in the enemy's attacks.
Unless they fled in advance.
Otherwise, once they were cornered inside their base, there would ultimately be no hope for survival.
They already had no idea how many of their family members had fallen into the hands of those demons.
And that demon seemed to always hover around them, likely to appear around the next corner.
But always, they managed to stop abruptly or take a turn at crucial moments, narrowly missing an encounter...
This feeling of neither being safe nor in immediate danger was like waiting for execution, torturing them even more.
