Chapter 390 Tempests of Destruction

To any proud Winged, landing on the ground and stepping toe-to-toe with humans was not only dangerous but also the utmost insult. Yet they hardly had any choice. This was the Devil. The one man who had almost decimated the Winged Legion and the rest of the Wingeds understood that any dealings with him needed to be handled subtly and delicately. "What should we do now, sir?" an elderly Winged asked the Ninth Presbyter. "We watch and play on for now. Lead everyone away from this place at once if things go sour; I'll hold back the Devil to buy you time." The order left the lesser chieftains shocked. By "holding back", the Ninth Presbyter was admitting that he was no match to the Devil. "Is he really that powerful?!" gasped one of the elderly Wingeds. "Very," breathed the Ninth Presbyter gravely, "He's at least on par with the Eighth Presbyter." It was all the elderly lesser chieftains could do to prevent from yelping with surprise loudly. As a champion merely a hair's