But Segathon was only half right. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 The clearing at the top of the info mountain is bare, not even grass grows, and there is not a trace of civilization. Many cultists gathered around the wasteland, silently chanting strange language. Segathon and his fellow prisoners were carried to the middle of the wasteland, where they fell to their knees with their heads in their hands, and the mayor's bodyguards scattered a large bundle of rusty weapons in front of them.

"Fight as hard as you can, heroes, the last of the living will be rewarded with an incomparable amount, and we look forward to your performance!" the High Priest proclaimed, and as soon as his voice fell, the surrounding cultists began to chant incantations aloud. The white light gradually enveloped the prisoners, and in the blink of an eye, they disappeared with them.

It took a great deal of effort for Segason to get up from the ground, his mind still resting on the bare mountaintop wasteland, his body falling from digital height to the solid stone slab. Before he could stand firm, the hammer swept over his calf, and the pain sent him back to his stomach. He instinctively rolled to his side, watching as the knockdown hammer smashed into his head.

"Ah!" the orc who had attacked Segason let out a cry of pain and fell beside Segathon, a crude axe embedded in his back. Segason could clearly see the orc's pupils dilated, glaring at him with resentment. The owner of the axe withdrew his weapon and immediately slashed at Segason next to the orc's corpse. Segason grabbed the orc's hammer and struggled to block the axe, the blade almost falling in his face. The master of the long-handled axe roared angrily and drew his axe back, the blade of which swept away Segathon's hammer, who rose neatly and picked up the two-handed sword that had been thrown on the ground.

"Fuck!" Selgasson, who had seen the enemy clearly, cursed angrily, "Damn, what the fuck are you!" The monster about seven or eight yards away from him was ten feet tall - even though Ségasson was close to seven feet tall, it still looked like a little bit in front of him - with curly horns on its head, its whole body covered in carapace-like dark muscles, a pair of huge bat wings spread out behind its back, and its thick calves covered with brown hair, ending in the hooves of a cow. The monster resembled the demon in Segathon's dream, and he pounced on Segathon with a hideous face and an axe.

Orcs were the most common opponents in Segathon's adventures besides humans, and he had seen trolls, vampires, werewolves, ogres, and many other creatures with a ferocious appearance, but the presence of demons before his eyes, which no one believed to be real, really made him think that the gods of fate's jokes were a bit exaggerated.

Instinctively, Segathon swung his sword in a beautiful arc, meeting the demon's axe at the perfect angle and splitting it in half. The sword slashed firmly into the demon's right flank, pulling a deep, long wound into the wings that looked as fragile as rags. Segathon moved in a coherent and swift manner, and before the demon could retreat, another sword stabbed him in the abdomen - this guy was too tall for Segathon to stab him in the chest easily.

"Down, ****!" Segason reached out and grabbed the demon's hoof—he was trying to rise into the air to avoid Segathon, but was pulled back to the ground with a howl. The unassailable demon tried to retreat, but Segason jumped up and punched him in the face, then swept his left foot into his calf and knocked him to the ground.

"Go back to Hell, brute!" Segason cried out, stepping on the demon's arm and stabbing down the sword still in the demon's belly, the tip of which stabbed the demon's spine and stabbed it into the ground.