The place that entered his view was a bloodbath. There were streams of blood and corpses everywhere, smoke from firearms reached for the skies in this distressing land.
The sky was dark red, a mixture of bloody fog and smoke, several slave beasts were pursuing a few single Golden Amonros, waves of explosions blasted behind Grimm.
He looked further, and beyond that, numerous creatures were fighting, killing each other ruthlessly. In the middle of the area were two creatures that were controlling a powerful energy, the King of the Enigmatic Prophets and the Stigmata Sorcerer.
The two Level 4 beings released an energy shockwave from time to time, without realizing they had turned the mountains around them into flatlands, flatlands into craters, and low-level beings laid dead everywhere.
Grimm hovered in the sky, his hand holding a magic stone to recover his Magic Power as he moved towards the direction that Master Deidarion pointed to.