Chapter 245
Jet-black tentacles tore through the sky, trampling the world beneath them.
Leaving behind the screams and laughter echoing everywhere, the Shadow Lord moved forward.
The night of the massacre unfolded.
Tentacles lashed out at the empire’s soldiers filling the field of vision, crushing armor, tearing out intestines and flesh, and scattering blood and brains with each strike.
The end of the world was there.
The gods of another world looked down upon the earth.
Dark Young.
They were gods who did not love people, gods filled with a cruelty so pure it was beyond measure, like a child slaughtering a swarm of ants.
Countless tentacles slid down from every direction.
Tentacles from another realm trampled the earth, and the imperial soldiers clinging to them were sucked one by one into the rift in the sky.
The screams of soldiers echoed everywhere. Or the sound of laughter driven mad by insanity could be heard.
This was true even for enemy mages scattering hellish flames or knights clad in heavy armor.
The armor crumpled as flesh burst open, bones and entrails twisted, collapsing limply like crumpled paper.
Being crushed to death was almost a mercy.
Among them were those whose thin tentacles had torn through skulls, burrowing deep into the brain to take root. Black blood gushed from their eyes and nostrils, their entire bodies swollen as if thousands of worms were crawling beneath the skin.
From every hole pierced through their bodies, dark, tar-like, murky black blood poured out in streams.
