After all, Locke was just the master of a level eight castle in terms of fighting capacity.
No King of evil demon or exotic demon would let go of such a piece of fat.
Sure enough, after they went forward a few kilometers again, a black mist suddenly appeared in the distant sky, blotting out the sky and covering the sun.
Three terrifying auras constantly gushed out of the black fog.
This was the unique corrosive force of the evil demon race. It could constantly corrode the enemy's attack in battle. The longer they fought, the more serious the corrosion would be.
In addition, the strong defensive power of the evil demon race made it quite difficult to deal with.
"Three 15-level demons? They think highly of us."
Facing the coming demons, Griffith clenched his fists. His fighting spirit was overwhelming.
"They don't think highly of us. They think highly of you."
Locke complained.