War VII

“It’s Pride!” Dreygo screamed. The death winds had become the death bed of all trespassers in Pride’s continent. A lethal surge of wind that nobody could stop not until Pride was still breathing. It made them win the territorial battles easily. Even against Wrath, the Demon Lord of Explosions had difficulty in extinguishing such massive power of pure coldness and death, as if millions of needles borne by the death winds. That’s why Pride was hailed to be the strongest among the Demon Lords.

“The tornado?” Viriel asked confusingly.

“Yes. One touch of that wind can burn your skin to your bones. And he can control it whenever and wherever he can as where his eyes can land.”

“How do we stop it?” Nethaniel asked.

“If you have a wind bender magician here, then you can alter the tornado’s location or even stop it.” Dreygo responded.

“Only Lord Arkeus can bend winds. He knew Pride’s power already.”

“He better be here. Or else, only the Dea
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