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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: shyan
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In the midst of darkness and fog, enemies are thrown into chaos, unable to find their footing.
Observing them, Samson, the commander leading the demon army, begins to smile broadly.
‘Indeed… As the Hero said, they are so disoriented that it’s painfully obvious. Who would have thought that the armor of those detestable Allied Races would be used in such a manner?’
Unlike humans and elves, demons possess superior night vision, allowing them to see through the darkness.
This advantage enabled Samson and his troops to easily overwhelm the disoriented enemy. Conversely, the enemies hesitated to attack the demon army, as they wore the same armor as their foes, distinguished only by a black cloth on their shoulders.
If their true identities were discovered, they could swiftly hide and reappear elsewhere, turning the situation into utter chaos.
In such darkness, distinguishing faces is nearly impossible, and amidst the melee, there is no time for careful observation; thus, accurately identifying friend from foe is almost unfeasible.
“Damn it! Soldiers of Galadia, gather this way! I, Oedipus, am here!”
Occasionally, commanders raise their voices in an attempt to rally their troops amid confusion. Each time they do so, their soldiers flock towards what they perceive as a trustworthy leader in hopes of regrouping.
However…
Boom!
With each attempt to gather, the Hero’s powerful strike flies towards them.
The massive shockwave surprises even Samson, who prides himself on unmatched strength. The enemies who had just gathered are instantly scattered once more.
In this process, commanders trying to regain control are brutally killed without being able to react.
The Hero’s combat style is cunning and meticulous: maximizing benefits for his side while thoroughly exploiting enemy confusion.
Watching this unfold, Samson reflects on how wise he was to entrust the overall strategy of this battle to the Hero.
‘Honestly, I had some doubts at first, but he seems quite reliable.’
The Hero possessed formidable strength as a warrior, a sharp mind, and the ability to leverage both to secure decisive victories.
Observing this aspect of him brings joy to Samson as he realizes he has gained another trustworthy ally. He begins to wield his beloved weapon, the Bone Sword, without restraint.
Although he is in command, he cannot afford to lag behind in achievements. Fueled by a warrior’s competitive spirit and ambition, Samson charges forward with the ferocity of a roaring beast.
“Come at me, you filthy dogs of the Alliance! I shall crush you myself!”
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Swinging his pristine white Bone Sword, Samson smashed enemy heads with brutal efficiency.
Clad in the armor of the Allied Races’ soldiers, Samson mercilessly killed soldiers as he advanced. Witnessing this terrifying sight, the soldiers of the Allied Races fell deeper into fear and chaos.
In a situation where it is impossible to distinguish between friend and foe, a horrific massacre unfolds.
To the ordinary soldiers of the Allied Races, it appears as if their own comrades are attacking each other.
Moreover, many of the soldiers gathered here usually serve in different locations and have coincidentally come together today.
Whenever commanders raise their voices to restore order amid the chaos, shockwaves presumed to be fired by the Demon King immediately obliterate both commanders and soldiers.
Thus, in a situation where no one can be trusted except for those belonging to the same unit, the soldiers are ultimately forced into extreme choices to survive.
“Damn it! You filthy demon bastards! Die!”
“! W-wait… just a moment! I… I’m not a demon… Gahhh!!!”
Soldiers who had never seen the face of the person they just killed but were convinced he was a demon.
This marked the beginning as soldiers immediately began swinging their swords at others next to them whom they did not recognize.
“Gahhh!”
“Ughhh!!”
“Damn! Filthy demons!!”
“You’re the one who’s a demon! Just die quietly!”
In the pitch-black darkness, spears and swords clash violently.
In that moment, they had no idea whether they were attacking real demons or mistakenly striking their own allies.
However, despite this uncertainty, they could only attack any soldier with an unfamiliar face without hesitation.
Given the current situation, distinguishing between friend and foe was practically impossible.
To survive in such a place, they ultimately had to kill the ‘enemy’ right in front of them.
Thus, in an atmosphere charged with extreme chaos and fear, they began a massacre against each other.
And as they observed this scene that had been forewarned by the hero beforehand, the demon army stealthily withdrew into the darkness and began watching from a distance.
Feeling physically exhausted from the intense battles that had continued from the initial confrontation to this ambush, they simultaneously laughed inwardly at the foolishness of the soldiers killing each other right before their eyes.
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“Huff… Huff… Huff…”
“Damn it… these filthy demons…”
Gasping for breath, a group of soldiers from the allied races barely managed to escape, dragging their exhausted and injured bodies.
Behind them, the screams of their comrades fighting against the demons or each other echoed chaotically, but they no longer had the strength to assist their allies.
“How many are left?”
“About a thousand. I don’t know what happened to the rest.”
“A thousand… that means we’ve lost nearly half…”
The damage exceeded anything they had imagined.
Belerephon, the commander leading them, couldn’t help but frown, yet he felt fortunate nonetheless.
Being stationed on the outskirts of the battlefield had allowed him to lead this group to safety.
Had he and his forces been deeper inside, it was evident they would have suffered even greater losses in the chaos.
Despite feeling filthy, Belerephon found a glimmer of relief and began to gather his subordinates before issuing a retreat order.
“For now, we’re going back. If we stay here any longer, we’ll get caught up in it too. We’ll retreat to Dimode, the nearest stronghold.”
“Yes, understood, General.”
Following Belerephon’s command, the soldiers began to make their way through the darkness.
Although the thick fog and lingering darkness made marching difficult in many ways, they managed to press on without scattering by relying on the footsteps of their nearby comrades.
As dawn began to break and their vision started returning to normal, marching became somewhat easier. They increased their speed and successfully reached Dimode.
Exhausted and looking like beggars after marching day and night for three full days, they were consumed by the desire to collapse and lie down but forced themselves to drag their weary bodies closer to Dimode.
However…
“Huh?”
“Wait…”
What appeared before them was an unbelievable sight.
For a moment, Belerophon and his soldiers thought their weary eyes were playing tricks on them. Yet, what they saw was no illusion—it was an unthinkable reality.
At the highest spire of Dimode Castle, a black banner fluttered in the wind.
The banner of the Demon Kingdom.
“What… what is this? Why is there a demon flag here?”
“I-I don’t know… This makes no sense…”
Despite seeing it with their own eyes, they couldn’t believe what was happening.
Caught in shock and despair, Belerephon and his subordinates could only sit down where they stood.
Having fled in haste, they carried no food or supplies.
Moreover, after such a grueling march, the soldiers were too exhausted to consider launching an attack anywhere.
Ultimately, their only option was to drag themselves away from the castle before them without daring to attack it.
However…
They found no welcome at any place they arrived afterward.
Everywhere they went bore the demon flags, and there were hundreds of guards solidly defending those locations…
