From all directions, the deep swamp shrouded in thick fog echoed with hair-raising responses.
They were other predators, attracted by blood and the roars of demons, lurking in the mire, pools, and dead trees.
Countless minute, dense crawling sounds, splashing sounds, and wing flaps came from every direction, like a tide of death, converging madly towards the place where the demon appeared.
Gray Mouse and Frey were terrified; they could even feel the vibrations of the swamp underfoot and smell the terrifying foul stench mixed with blood and the breath of countless demons coming at them.
Frey also lost her usual composure, her face pale, and the fiery red whip tightly coiled around her arm, ready to face attacks that might come from any direction at any time.
Duke was also running at full speed, or rather flying at low altitude, stepping on two pieces of yellow sand, lifting him to fly swiftly.
