Over the capital of Pyrothrone Kingdom, colossal figures gathered, blotting out the sky. The once-brilliant golden light was completely blocked, plunging the entire capital into darkness.
A terrifying pressure from powerful bloodlines descended like a storm, crashing onto those below. The ground trembled, cracking in arm-wide fissures. A shadow of dread fell over everyone's hearts.
The previously confident Pyrothrone King's expression suddenly froze.
How could they have arrived so quickly?
From the moment he received the news of Owen's attack to now, when the attackers surrounded him, only a few hours had passed!
How had they advanced so swiftly from the border?
A chill ran down the Pyrothrone King's spine as he glanced at the approaching army of dragons and Fallen Angels.
Sensing the powerful auras emanating from them, he broke out in a cold sweat, unable to believe his eyes.
