The small mortal's triumph goes unnoticed by the God-King; they are currently preoccupied with their old enemy. Baticus is proving as slippery and vermicular an opponent as always, weaving their way past Illyria's striking attacks to aim at their ocular vulnerable point. They manage to stave off the creature's assault each time, but Illyria is quickly growing weary of this onslaught.

It seems Illyria's pathetic, disappointingly puny army is applying itself to distracting Baticus' accumulated forces. This is an unexpected asset.

Illyria has grown tired of this battle. With a high, screaming roar, they smash into Baticus directly and flip them into the nearest Hell-fissure with a well-placed application of torquing appendages and forward momentum. From there it is a matter of crushing one of the nearest skyscraper constructs, tipping its tumbled debris into the crevice after the streamlined ophidian monster, burying it. Burying it in Hell. Where it belongs.

This will not hold it long. This has deterred it, not defeated it, but Baticus is dealt with for the time being. Therefore its forces will either fight their opponent or flee, leaving Illyria's charge a rare window.

Get to the city's edge, Illyria orders, momentarily redirecting their attention to the mortal that is, by some untold miracle, still alive and howling. Do not abandon your mount until you get there or you will perish.