In the interior of the plantation colony, Servusarator. Amidst the weakening storm of the fading night, a crimson radiance gleamed over the land. Turbulent flames shrouded the black plains with a fiery light threatening to consume all.
It was a horrifying sight to see, akin to a scene from hell itself.
Within the all-devouring fire, rubbles of a building stood with wreckage and ashes surrounding it. It was none other than the central barracks of Servusarator.
It was the final line of defense separating the central and the western sides of the island. With its devastation, the rebellion was free to expand its tendrils to the west.
"So that is the Sierra Strike… Horrifying." Espada mumbled under his breath while gazing upon the destruction brought about by the United Navy.
In a mere instant, a formidable fortress became a crimson hell.
