Yet, how many players were there at this moment?
The casualties kept mounting.
Reluctantly, Father Barry ordered the release of Radolf, who had been imprisoned in Ulon City, allowing him to lend a hand.
Finally, out of the ironworks, Radolf stood beneath the starry sky, surrounded by the acrid smell of burning from the battlefield.
All around him were busy people; he could see the soot-stained fingerprints on the faces of those who brushed past him, and just beyond the walls, demons mingled indiscriminately.
Seeing the demons made him instinctively want to retreat.
He understood the nature of the demons; even if he stood before them now, they wouldn't spare him just because he was a member of the Order of the Shattering Light.
In words, if he wanted to survive, he would have to resist the demons just like everyone else in Ulon City.
Yet at that moment, he recalled the tenets of the Order of the Shattering Light, which preached bringing darkness to the world.
Logically, he shouldn't fear or evade the arrival of darkness; he should even be willing to sacrifice his life for it.
But when he truly realized that it could cost him his life, he felt a pang of cowardice.
If he really sacrificed his life, he would have nothing left.
Was it truly worth it?
Looking again at those fighting so hard to survive, Radolf felt a deep sense of shame and self-reproach.
Two voices echoed in his mind, one saying he didn't want to die, that he wanted to live, while the other insisted that all sacrifices for the coming of darkness were meaningful.
Hadn't he become a member of the Order of the Shattering Light to witness this day?
He should be willing to take risks for it.
The two voices began to argue within him, but the hope of survival outweighed everything else.
He noticed a heroes from the Church of Light charging in, helping others fend off a deadly attack.
Radolf followed closely behind, babbling about something, and was soon handed a longsword.
The player caring for him said, "You look like a knight, so you can use this longsword. Don't worry; it's has been enchanted and can kill demons. Even if you can't use magic, it doesn't matter."
Radolf could sense the sword's suppressive aura against dark energies, proving that what the heroes said was true; this sword could indeed kill demons.
In the past, he would have never picked up this longsword.
But today, Radolf changed his mind.
He took up the longsword and followed the heroes into battle, facing the demons created by the God of Darkness he had revered for so many years.
Nothing was more important than his own life.
In that moment, Radolf finally realized this truth.
That night, many stories unfolded in the darkness.
After a night of fierce fighting, everyone was on the brink of exhaustion.
They were tired and injured, unable to rest, while the demons continued to pour in.
Moreover, the demons had found a way to deal with Butch.
The dragon race, whose wings could cover the sky, should have been invincible in the air, but the demons produced their crossbows, altering the situation entirely.
The first shot from the crossbow didn't hit Butch, but it angered him, prompting him to charge at the demon horde.
Then, the second crossbow bolt struck Butch's wing, the enchanted iron arrow piercing through the flesh.
Although the arrowhead was gone, the wound caused Butch to emit a loud cry of pain.
This sound made everyone in Ulon City feel a jolt in their hearts.
Butch was a dragon; what could possibly hurt a dragon with maxed-out physical and magical defenses?
Yet, from the sound alone, they knew Butch had definitely been injured.
Could their strongest combat force really be brought down?Nôv(el)B\\jnn