Chapter 771: The Total Assault
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 771: The Total Assault
"Zagu... actually failed?"
The faint clinking of chains echoed as candlelight flickered against the mottled, ancient stone walls. Divine Will glanced sideways, a rare look of astonishment surfacing on his weathered face as he watched a certain soul gradually ascend into the core of the Eternal Cycle.
How could this be?
Given Zagu’s strength and legendary caution, coupled with the fact that the entire Skinner squad was at his disposal, dealing with a heavily injured human like Muen Campbell should have been an effortless task.
So why...?
It was incomprehensible. What strange power did that Muen Campbell possess to be able to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat even in such a desperate situation?
"To think even you would slip up. What a waste."
The Demon Race of today truly grew more pathetic with every generation. The Grand Dukes above were one thing, but the fools below were no better.
Of course, they couldn't be blamed entirely. After all, even a powerhouse like Zagu had actually undergone several "cycles," and his "integrity" was no longer what it once was.
But since he had failed, he would simply be cast into the furnace as well, adding one more insignificant spark to this grand ceremony.
Divine Will closed his eyes and sighed, allowing that soul to be swallowed by the Eternal Cycle.
"It seems that fellow named Zagu failed to complete the task you gave him."
Atop the Obsidian Throne, An curled her lips into a faint, mocking smile, though a glimmer of pride shone in her eyes. "I told you, Young Master wouldn't be defeated that easily."
"I admit, I underestimated the boy."
Divine Will did not grow angry at An’s mockery. He merely felt a slight sense of regret.
He regretted that this solemn and majestic ceremony could not proceed in the most perfect manner, following the ideal script he had envisioned.
The pawn intended for the blood sacrifice should have been delivered to him by now. Accompanied by a wailing soul and a heaven-shaking roar, they should have been welcoming the return of Our King in her divine fury.
Then, upon that Obsidian Throne, the awakened King would have brought down thunderous fire, manifesting her infinite majesty to this unjust world.
...A pity. A true pity.
Because of Zagu’s failure, he would not be able to witness that scene—a vision so grand it made one tremble with excitement just thinking about it.
However.
A stage built over a thousand years and a script revised for a millennium would not grind to a halt just because a single pawn was missing.
It was merely less than perfect. The ending remained predestined.
"What are you doing now?"
Seeing Divine Will move again, the unease in An’s heart intensified. Although she was nominally "the Demon King’s half," she currently possessed no power.
Calling out to the Eternal Cycle was useless; it seemed that handing its branch over to Muen had exhausted all her authority. The fragmented memories in her mind grew even more chaotic, yet she could find nothing useful within them.
Still, An forced herself to remain calm. Because Young Master...
"Because Muen Campbell will come back to save you?"
As if reading her mind, Divine Will caused An’s eyes to narrow.
But Divine Will only chuckled indifferently. "Impossible. I do not know what Muen Campbell is searching for there, but his current location holds nothing but the wreckage of an old battlefield and a long-broken ancient artifact. There is nothing there that can save you. So..."
"Please, give up."
Divine Will spoke each word like a final sentence.
Yet his demeanor and his actions remained so devout, so humble. He looked like the most loyal of subjects, sincerely awaiting the return of his monarch.
"I will not give up."
An looked down at Divine Will from her high vantage point, her dignified expression unchanging. She replied with equal gravity, "Young Master will come. He definitely will."
"Then that truly is a pity."
Divine Will sighed once more. Then...
"I am a sinner. My sins can never be washed away."
His face was pious, as if in prayer. But the object of his prayer was not a god, but An upon the throne.
"Therefore, please forgive my insolence for the time being, My King. To think I must use such crude methods to welcome your return... it is truly a disgrace."
"..." An, naturally, did not respond to his prayer.
Divine Will didn't care. He simply opened his eyes slowly. Those eyes, which had watched this race endure for a thousand years, were currently reflecting a vivid, crimson hue.
That red was like a river, like a sea, like blood.
"Someone."
"Present." A maid, looking like a hollow puppet, appeared behind Divine Will. Her eyes were vacant, as if she had lost her soul.
"Notify the front lines. Let it all end."
"Yes."
*
The silver, jagged cliffs rose abruptly from the earth, disappearing into a thick, physical haze that even sunlight could not penetrate. It was a desolate sight, like the end of the world. Even the largest Stone Dragons of the Abyss would feel a sense of infinitesimal despair before these cliffs.
Above the haze lay even more terrifying spatial turbulence. This turbulence had sealed this part of the Abyss for a thousand years. In all that time, neither the Demon Race nor humans had been able to establish any connection across the rift.
The Silver Cliffs and the spatial turbulence acted like a near-perfect container, imprisoning the entire Abyss within.
But this container had a leak.
That leak was the current Empire’s border defense line: Dolonslei Fortress.
It sat wedged between the two steep cliffs. Compared to the peaks that pierced the clouds, the fortress looked as insignificant as a single brick at the foot of a wall.
Yet it was this "brick" that had held back the Demon Race’s invasion for centuries.
Even now, after the entire Demon Race had mustered its full strength to assault it for an entire month, it still stood there, unyielding.
Or rather, it would never fall...
"But I feel like I'm about to goddamn fall!"
Donnik peeked half his head out from behind the battlements. Looking at the dense, ant-like swarm of the Demon Race army—urged on by the desolate sound of war horns as they tirelessly threw themselves against the high walls—a wave of intense exhaustion washed over him. It felt as though his very bones had been soaked until they were soft.
"Lord Donnik, perhaps you should take a rest—"
"Rest? Rest my ass!"
Donnik kicked the subordinate who had suggested it right in the rear, glaring as he barked, "If I rest, do you think you cowards can hold this wall? Get moving and bring more stones!"
"Yes, sir!"
The soldier limped away, hurrying to help the others haul stone materials to repair the wall.
Donnik continued to lean over the edge of the wall, observing the demons' offensive while casually cleaving a Low Demon that had tried to sneak up.
His strikes were crude now. He had almost no strength left to execute fancy techniques. Scalding blood splashed across his face, but he didn't even notice, his eyes never blinking.
The assault had lasted for half a month.
Not half a month since the war began, but half a month of this relentless, sleepless siege.
Ever since Young Master Muen had left, the demons had clearly changed their tactics. They had begun attacking the walls with a feral desperation, completely disregarding their own lives.
Tireless.
Regardless of sacrifice.
Unafraid of death.
Wave after wave of Low Demons slammed into the fortress. Even though the soldiers inside were split into shifts to defend the wall, giving them brief moments to breathe, the pressure of facing an enemy that outnumbered them several times over—an enemy that fought with such suicidal ferocity—was psychologically and physically harrowing.
The demons fell like wheat before a scythe, their corpses piling up at the base of the wall to serve as stepping stones for those who followed. The bodies of Imperial soldiers were mixed in among them, but the defenders no longer had the strength to retrieve their dead.
Donnik looked down again. The walls of Dolonslei Fortress were exceptionally high—perhaps the highest in the entire Empire—but now, they no longer looked as towering as they did when Young Master Muen first arrived.
The wall looked half as tall as it used to be.
Over the past two weeks, the demons hadn't bothered to clear the battlefield. Or perhaps they had done this intentionally. More and more corpses piled up at the base of the wall, filling the traps, the trenches, and the moat... rising higher and higher until they buried half the wall.
Compared to the still-teeming demon army, the mountain of corpses beneath his feet was perhaps the more terrifying sight.
But Donnik was numb. The Imperial soldiers were all numb.
At first, people might have panicked, but now, almost everyone killed the demons attempting to scale the wall with expressionless faces, letting them fall back onto the heap of the dead.
Perhaps this was the demons' tactic. Once the corpses were piled as high as the wall, they could swarm into the fortress without effort.
It was an excellent strategy. Against such a tactic, there was likely no wall in the world that could hold forever. The only downside was... it was quite expensive in terms of lives.
"Damn, they really don't treat Low Demons like people, do they?"
Donnik spat, plunging his sword into the forehead of another Low Demon.
The creature’s expression remained ferocious, its crimson eyes devoid of any reason. It was as if reaching the top of this wall was the sole purpose of its miserable existence.
"The Duke said to hold for a few more days, and the first wave of the Empress's real reinforcements will arrive. I wonder if we'll last that long."
Donnik shook the dead demon off his blade. Looking down, he noticed a prominent notch had been chipped into the edge of his beloved sword.
He felt a pang of heartache. This was an alchemy weapon he had spent a fortune on. While its quality was nowhere near that of a legendary ancient artifact, its armor-piercing and anti-magic properties had saved his life several times over the years.
But no matter how sharp a sword was, it couldn't withstand hacking through thousands of enemies.
"Don't worry, old friend. After this war, I'll spend even more money to get you fixed up right."
Donnik stroked the mottled blade. He never stopped to think about whether he would survive to see that day. For a soldier, contemplating death while still alive was nothing but cowardice.
Donnik sheathed his longsword and continued his patrol of the section of the wall he was responsible for.
Woooooo—
The demon war horns sounded in the distance.
Donnik instinctively stopped to listen.
The demon horns were roughly equivalent to the Empire's war drums; they were used to boost morale and issue commands. After this period of constant engagement, Donnik had a rough idea of what the different blasts meant.
"Huh? That horn signal means... a total assault?"
Donnik froze.
He looked down at the countless corpses at the base of the wall.
Then he looked up, gazing at the horizon-spanning demon army in the distance.
A total assault?
Weren't the demons... already in the middle of one?