The battle’s dynamics were no different from a war of attrition.
The King of the Flame Behemoths, Helkaion, rampaged, spreading embers and sulfur fire in all directions.
It charged around, biting anything in its path, shaking the ground with its front and back legs, crushing the smaller creatures beneath it.
Like a furious bull, its target of attack constantly shifted, making it impossible to predict.
This was the worst-case scenario where the tankers were unable to perform their roles.
“Gahk!”
“Khkh!”
