The lone stranger — who had a sorcerer's armor on — standing before the horde of demons was akin to a leaf bracing for a thunderstorm.
None of the distraught soldiers cheered, as they regarded the stranger's actions as an attempted suicide. Only Dante the hound looked spirited; after shouting at the top of his voice for a while, he urged the other soldiers to gather together and ready their weapons.
No one paid him any mind, though. The other sorcerers had lost all hope, so they secretly plotted to flee the moment the city gets overwhelmed.
The armored stranger stirred. He glared coldly at the demon horde stampeding towards him and raised his right hand. "Sleep in the dirt, where you belong."
The stranger then balled his right hand into a fist.