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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: selkie
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Billemon Castle.
This place, located about two days north of Antioch, was enveloped in a notably quiet atmosphere, unlike moments before.
“Hey, Cane, how’s it over there?”
“Of course, it’s completely empty here too; all available troops have been dragged away, leaving just a lucky few like me.”
“Well, you’ve always had incredible luck with these things.”
Soldiers leisurely sat by a campfire. They were assigned to guard the east and west of Billemon Castle but were currently enjoying drinks instead of focusing on their duties.
“Is this really okay, Lost? I mean, we’re technically on duty, and sitting around drinking like this feels a bit…”
“What does it matter? The demons aren’t going to show up in this situation anyway.”
“That’s true, but…”
“Hey, don’t worry. Overthinking will just ruin the taste of the drink. Even if the demons did come, there’s nothing we could do about it alone, right?”
“Hmm…”
Cane, feeling cornered by his companion’s cowardly reasoning, reluctantly agreed. He tried to shake off his uneasy feelings while eating a small bird roasted over the campfire.
The generals had set out to capture the Demon King and end the war.
As most of the original defenders have left, the few soldiers remaining were caught in a relaxed atmosphere.
Although they had taken most of the food, they left behind the barrels of alcohol, which became the sole enjoyment for those still present.
These soldiers, filling their stomachs with drink instead of food, reveled in their newfound abundance.
However, their vigilance had completely dissipated.
Meanwhile, observing this scene were figures who had quietly entered the castle, now slowly revealing themselves from the shadows.
The current situation felt excessively hollow, more than anticipated.
“I expected this to some extent, but it feels excessively empty,” one remarked.
“Exactly. We shed so much blood to defend this place. I never imagined it would be reclaimed so easily…”
In the past, the demons had retreated after losing 2,000 troops in battle at Billemon. Yet now, they had taken control without shedding a drop of blood.
Before them lay drunken humans sprawled out, the entirety of the remaining forces, making it easy to bind them and take them prisoner.
“Anyway, the situation isn’t over yet, so don’t let your guard down. Once we finish here, we’ll move to the next location with only a portion of the troops remaining.”
“Yes, Commander Elias.”
“Understood.”
Elias’s subordinates bound the human soldiers, who remained unconscious and unaware. After confirming that the possibility of a sudden counterattack was meaningless, Elias felt a mix of joy and confusion.
While she was pleased to have captured another castle without losses, she began to question why things had gone so smoothly.
“I knew that the Samson Legion in Antioch would serve as bait, but this seems excessive. Did they really leave their castles so vulnerable while squeezing their forces?”
The Allied Races were responding far too aggressively for simply repelling an invading enemy.
Observing their actions, which resembled a swarm of bees drawn to honey, Elias began to suspect that the cunning hero might have some other scheme in play.
“I need to investigate this further later, but for now, I can’t afford to worry about it. What’s important is to reclaim as much territory as possible while the enemy is absent.”
Setting aside her doubts, Elias proceeded with the urgency of a competitive eater, determined to act swiftly.
Despite her suspicions, she had always adhered to making the best choices for the Demon Kingdom.
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“Cough!”
“Gack!”
The dying soldiers gasped their last breaths, their faces twisted in despair.
Just moments ago, they had been dismissing the possibility of a demon invasion, but now they lay cold and lifeless.
Witnessing the brutal slaughter of his men, General Giltier, who governed the small village of Enmao, sank to the ground in terror.
“How… how could this happen…?”
He recognized the purple-armored demon warrior wielding a sword radiating violet energy all too well.
This was the very figure who had once dealt him a bitter defeat—a symbol of despair.
The Demon King.
Overwhelmed by confusion and despair, Giltier realized that the very person who should be fighting a war in Antioch was now here.
As the Demon King approached him, Giltier could not even muster the thought of retaliating; he simply trembled and wept, paralyzed by fear.
This was not mere resignation born from terror; he knew all too well from past experiences that his attacks would never reach the Demon King.
Meaningless resistance would only add to his despair.
As the Demon King extended his finger toward Giltier, it was as if he didn’t even need to draw his sword.
– Crack!
In the next moment, Giltier felt a searing pain. As the world flipped upside down, he realized what had happened—his head was separated from his body, floating in the air.
In his fading consciousness, he caught one last glimpse of the horrifying figure he had dreaded, a monster he never wanted to see again.
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Strategy and tactics are essentially just refined ways of deceiving the enemy.
In war, the imperative to defeat the enemy in front of you becomes a matter of survival; failing to do so could lead to the collapse of one’s family, society, and ultimately the nation.
This inherent nature of warfare makes such desperation entirely predictable.
At this moment, the Demon King and Commander Elias, along with their 15,000 troops, successfully deceived not only the Allied Races but also the Samson Legion and their soldiers.
They began to reap the rewards of their cunning at an alarming pace.
Unlike the arduous battles that had previously cost them territory, they were now reclaiming lost lands with ease, akin to picking up fallen fruit from the ground.
Located three days from Antioch and at the center of the allied territories, the small castle Golosai became the starting point for the Demon King’s forces.
They began to capture castles like Dimode, Thessalonica, and Corinth with minimal losses.
Although there were some battles along the way, the casualties for the Demon King’s army were negligible compared to the territory gained.
Amidst this seemingly hollow yet terrifyingly effective campaign, the Demon King began to reflect seriously on her life.
‘I never expected to reclaim our territory so easily. What was all my effort for?’
Despite the relentless assaults from the Allied Races, it was primarily due to the Demon King’s efforts that their kingdom had endured.
However, witnessing her long-held dream come to fruition in such an unexpectedly simple manner left her with a sense of emptiness.
However, alongside this unease, the admiration for the hero who made all of this possible grew even stronger.
‘I should give him a bigger reward when he returns. It would be best to ask the hero about the specifics…’
The Demon King had promised to reward significant contributions, and as she thought about it, she felt her cheeks flush beneath her helmet, realizing that she was unexpectedly looking forward to the reward for the hero.
She questioned why she felt such anticipation regarding the reward.
