Demon Marshal Alice rode aloft on the Molten Flying Dragon King, flying above the Dark Curtain, with an untarnished Molten Flying Dragon army at her rear.
The battered Chaos Camp was scattered and fragmented, seemingly having formed several stable centers to steady the situation.
But in reality, they had already resorted to their final self-preserving strategies, suffering immense losses, a far cry from the brazen, unstoppable aura they had not long ago.
Even so, when facing the encirclement of the Pterosaurs, they could only continue to fall back, making any kind of resurgence impossible.
Especially since the aerial forces of the Chaos Camp had been virtually slaughtered.
The Chaos Camp had always held themselves in high regard, looking down on the forces of other camps. They must remember, before the integration of sub-dimensions, they were the dominant races in their worlds, ruling over the minor sub-dimensions for countless years.
