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- The scene resembled a dump truck slamming into a nest of mice.
- On the kingdom side, countless spears were held at the ready in trembling hands. But what significance did that hold for the dark young who had such massive, robust bodies? The spears snapped easier than toothpicks, unable to do so much as scratch them.
- The immense dark young dove in among the kingdom soldiers.
- Innumerable broken spears flew through the air.
- Though they trampled the resistance that couldn’t even really be considered resistance, the dark young were merciful—there was no pain.
- The overwhelming charge left no opportunity to feel pain.
- The soldiers holding spears didn’t even have time to notice the moment the giant bodies smashed their spears. All they were aware of was a dark shadow that blocked out their vision.
- A scream went up, then another and another.
- Scraps of flesh flew. It wasn’t one or two people. It wasn’t even dozens—it was over a hundred. Flattened under huge feet, batted away—no, obliterated—by waving tentacles.
- Nobles, farmers—once they were transformed into scraps of flesh, none of that mattered. Whether they left behind families in their home villages, whether they left behind friends, even if they had no one waiting for them—once they turned into churned mush on the ground, none of that mattered.
- Death was the great equalizer.
- ***
- Volume 9, Chapter 4.2
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