"Well then, I'm taking off," Agatha announced solemnly.
"Off you go." A cold sneer broke across Zooey's face. "We've been waiting for this day for too long."
Unlike the First Army, the commanders of the ancient witches were also powerful combatants. They would be the last to retreat when demons were approaching.
"Ms. Agatha, Ms. Zooey..." Iron Axe suddenly stopped them.
"Is there anything else?"
"Although I shouldn't say this, I think this must be what His Majesty wanted to convey to you," he said thoughtfully. "Please stay safe. You being alive is the heaviest blow we can inflict on the demons."
"Haha, I won't die so easily before reclaiming Taquila." Zooey turned around and cast Iron Axe a glance. "Thanks for your kind words. I do appreciate it, mortal."
"Don't worry. We know what to do." Smiling, Agatha walked out of the tent.
