"No, how could I, Lawuer, die at the hands of you insects!"
The bat wings at his back had already been severed by the Forbidden Army, and the Balrog Demon's body and limbs were entangled by chains and dragged to the ground, unable to fly anymore.
It's not because he lost his wings that he couldn't fly; a high-ranking Great Demon wasn't so incapacitated. For truly powerful beings, wings were merely decorative.
What truly prevented him from flying were those golden light chains entwining his body; these so-called mongrel Dragon Descendants of the Forbidden Army compressed and confined all his movement space, suppressing every act of rebellion and struggle.
"Falling at our hands is the honor of your lifetime!"
The Forbidden Army, now with their golden light completely dim, trampled upon the body of the Great Demon. A member of the Forbidden Army, stepping on the Balrog Demon's head, placed the edge of a sword at its neck,
