Beneath the boundless canopy of the black sky roamed harsh flashes of lightning, occasionally followed by loud booms of thunder, casting a long shadow over the Holy Spirit at Heaven Port under the torrential rain.
Mad, vivid, and sinuously dancing ceiling tentacles swept violently across the fragmented sea surface, attacking anyone trying to come near.
Standing at the top of the massive ship, also at a commanding height, Doringger looked down upon Heaven Port.
It was almost over.
Although the Third Front, the support from another fencing magnate, the Personal Guard, and three Guests had been wiped out by enemy reinforcements, as long as Doringger was still there, victory was already secure.
Under his oppression, all rebel morale had collapsed; rebels fleeing to both sides, though their generals were still resisting stubbornly, most of their soldiers had already lost their will to fight, being chased down and killed by the Heavy Cavalry.
