"… Where am I?"
When the golden-haired Zorgen, the captain of the task force that was defending the fortress woke up on a solid bed that was made of black wood, the middle-aged man could not help but feel unwell. His body was fatigued. He felt like as if he was almost drained completely.
Upon opening his eyes, his vision was blurry. Currently, Zorgen felt as if he was still on the battlefield where they were fending off the daemons.
Slowly recalling his memories, the howling of the cold winds and the roaring of the ferocious daemons were heard in his ears once again. The ferocious gigantic monsters were charging into the walls again and again, tearing them all apart. Meanwhile, the horde of black monsters was gushing into the city like a tidal wave that was unstoppable.
