"Fireworks?"
Hearing this, a few nearby members of the Blood Race also gathered curiously by the window.
Sure enough, on the distant skyline, patches of flickering light illuminated the pitch-black night sky, and a muffled roar could be faintly heard.
But soon, a few of the more sober members of the Blood Race realized something, and their expressions changed drastically.
"That’s not right—that’s the direction of the Greystone Rampart!"
"Those aren’t fireworks! That’s the afterglow of Magic!"
"This is bad! Someone’s attacking the rampart!"
"Those Slimes went back on their word! They’ve broken the agreement!"
These shouts shattered the atmosphere in the banquet hall. The Blood Race, who moments before had been reveling in their victory, turned deathly pale. All traces of their elegant composure vanished, replaced by uncontrollable panic.
Soon, one of the Blood Race received a Magic communication from the front lines.
"We have a traitor among us! It’s Casimir! He opened the rampart gates!"
"The Demon Legion... The Demon Legion has pushed straight through and is heading for the old castle!"
As if drained of all strength, the one who had spoken collapsed to the ground, his face an ashen mask of despair.
"Run!" someone shrieked, their voice hoarse.
"Grab what’s in the treasury and get out of the castle! Now!"
"Go where?!"
"Seek refuge with the Goblin Army! Their camp is to the west!"
Panic spread like a plague, and in an instant, the elegant banquet devolved into a scene of chaotic escape.
The Blood Race nobles scattered in panic, toppling long tables laden with exquisite food and wine. Scarlet liquid and shattered glass sprayed across the floor, and the pristine white tablecloths were trampled into filth by countless panicked feet.
Deng Lun merely watched the scene in silence. Then, he slowly rose and followed the fleeing members of the Blood Race toward the exit.
Just as they reached the corridor outside, figures of the Blood Race emerged from behind the heavy, hanging curtains, blocking their path to freedom.
"Regrettably, esteemed elders, by order of Bishop Casimir, none of you are going anywhere tonight."
"What do you think you’re doing?!"
"Damn it, there are traitors among us."
The faces of the Blood Race elders turned ashen as the full scope of the betrayal dawned on them.
The truce was a lie. Camisil had betrayed the Blood Race. Betrayed them all.
"Get out of the way."
A flat voice cut through the chaos. Deng Lun stepped forward, not even glancing at the Blood Race members blocking the way. He simply raised the skull-topped Magic Staff in his hand.
[Fear Skill]
A viscous, ink-black mist erupted from the tip of the Magic Staff. Like living tentacles, it swiftly coiled around the ones blocking their path.
"Argh!"
"No... stay back!"
Fear contorted their faces. They stumbled back involuntarily, their formation shattering and clearing a path.
No longer caring for decorum, the surviving Blood Race elders transformed into swarms of blood bats. They burst through the castle’s stained-glass windows, scattering in all directions.
But the swarms of blood bats had not flown far before dozens of crimson orbs shot out from the darkness.
SQUELCH!
"Agh!"
The blood bats that were hit let out piercing shrieks as corrosive wounds ate into their bodies, sending them plummeting from the sky onto the castle’s open grounds.
The surviving members of the Blood Race looked down from the castle in despair. The once-silent graveyard below was now completely overrun by the Demon Army. A Secret Magic Ancient Tree stood at the forefront of their ranks, and swarms of buzzing Poisonous Sting Bees filled the air.
So, the Demon Legion had come after all.
From within the ranks of the Demon Legion, Chen Yu raised his head. His gaze cut through the chaotic night sky, locking onto Deng Lun, who had just stepped out of the castle’s main gate and was standing on the steps.
Their eyes met across the distance, and for a moment, the very air seemed to freeze.