The swarm of Legendary Devils had no real chance of killing a Lord at Brightkin's level. Their only hope was to tire him, or at least distract him long enough for Varkin's spear to land a decisive blow.
Unfortunately for them, the moment they closed in and began to surround the Faerathia Emperor, his entire body ignited with radiant light. Countless beams burst outward from him in every direction, slicing through the Legendary Devils as if they were made of paper. Bodies were severed, burned, and dissolved in an instant, their screams drowned beneath the roar of holy power.
Brightkin could not help but smile as he observed the carnage around him. Normally, he was known as a peaceful and composed ruler, a king who preferred diplomacy over violence. But when it came to fiends, every kill stirred something deeper within him—a fierce sense of purpose, and even a trace of exhilaration.
