Misplaced expectations

"A large Dominion approaching from the west! Gunners, middle output!"

Shanks shouted as the earth shook from the steps of the medium-sized angel-class monster.

Two companies of gunners raised their weapons and rifles the humanoid two-faced beast full of holes the moment that it appeared from the mist.

"Hold fire!"

The command was issued and the soldiers put down their guns.

The rat-faced man approached the massacred carcass, carefully examining it.

The dead monster fell on its back but apparently, there was something there that the re-enlisted former deserter wanted to check because he flipped it with a flick of a wrist despite the massive size.

"Its wings are completely burnt, those aren't wounds that a Sloth-made weapon can cause."

Shanks said pointing at the charred stumps on the back of the fallen angel-class monster, exactly where the wings should be.