The dense fog dissipated.
On the coastline of Defense Sector 8, a single, dark-red steel colossus stood silently.
In the deep crater crushed into the earth by Hundredfold Gravity at its feet, the once-invincible King of Heart-eaters could no longer even be called a "corpse."
It was more like an oil painting violently erased, leaving only a stain of mingled ice crystals and flesh, deeply imprinted into the scars of the earth.
The King was dead.
Both Kings were dead.
The moment the life force of the second king was completely annihilated, all surviving Heart Eaters along the entire seven-hundred-kilometer coastline—whether elite individuals or low-level grunts—froze in unison.
The bloodline imprint from their kings within them, the psychic link that drove them to assemble, to charge, to fight without fear of death—it was severed.
Chaos began.
Tens of thousands of Heart Eaters lost their command and descended into their most primitive, bestial instincts.
