Chapter 772: Slaughter
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 772: Slaughter
"Lord Duke!"
Donnik shoved past the soldiers, who were also beginning to grow restless, and rushed all the way to the highest point of the city wall, his eyes flashing with anxiety.
"Lord Duke, that horn..."
"I heard it."
Duke Lorne Campbell sat upon a semi-circular high platform, completely devoid of any protection. His pale blue eyes, a mirror of Muen’s own like still lakes, gazed calmly into the distance. Even the fresh bandages wrapped around his chest—the result of his previous clash with the Grand Duke of Demon Mountain—did nothing to diminish his majesty.
Smoke, clamor, death, and slaughter—these were the base colors of the battlefield.
But when one’s gaze swept past the dense, ant-like swarms of tirelessly charging low-class demons, at the very edge of the horizon, the tents, fences, and the tall walls built at some unknown time stood against the light, radiating an incredibly eerie atmosphere.
The smoke of the battlefield could not reach that place, yet the low, heavy sound of the horn emanated from there.
Lorne also stared at that spot, his thoughts unreadable.
"The meaning of that horn... is it the total offensive?" Donnik asked.
"It should be."
The one who answered was Verner.
Though a civil servant, he too wore blood-stained armor. The weathering and dust on his face could not hide his exhaustion; his eyes looked as though he hadn't closed them for days.
"A month ago, half a month ago, and now—this should be the third time we’ve heard the horn at this frequency."
"But... hasn't this already been a total offensive?"
Donnik scratched his bald head, feeling that something was off.
On the battlefield below, the low-class demons, fearless of death, were still throwing themselves against the walls of the Empire’s defense line. Every inch of open ground before Dolonslei Fortress was packed with attacking demons and corpses.
For the past half-month, the demon race's assault had never slowed or stopped. Not only the demons, but even the defenders on the wall had fought until their eyes turned red, only to eventually become numb amidst the unimaginable carnage.
If this suicidal offensive didn't count as a total offensive, then what did?
The wall was only so wide, and the space was limited. Even with their vast numbers, the demons couldn't exactly stack themselves several layers deep to attack!
"Of course this counts as a total offensive. Given the sheer scale of the demon race, even if they divided their forces into several parts and launched an assault on Dolonslei Fortress with just one part, it would be a total offensive to us," Verner mused. "But this time, it’s clearly different."
"Different?"
"Did you hear the distinction? This horn is slightly different from the usual ones. The frequency is the same, but the timbre is markedly different. This horn was likely crafted from the horn of an Abyssal magical beast called the 'Panshan.' Its sound is low and heavy, yet it can resonate for a hundred miles. Because they are difficult to obtain, they carry a special significance. As far as I know, the demons don't just blow them for a total offensive..."
"Not just for a total offensive? What else could it mean?"
"Also... sacrifice! That’s it! Sacrifice! Those horns are also sounded during rituals!"
As if grasping a crucial thread, Verner’s expression suddenly shifted wildly.
"But it’s strange. The demon race was abandoned by the gods. Only a few demon tribes who refused to believe this in the early days used those horns for sacrifice. After that, even the act of sacrifice itself gradually faded into the river of time... If they truly are performing a sacrifice, who are they sacrificing to? Having been besieged in the Abyss for a thousand years, is there anyone left for the demons to offer a sacrifice to?"
"Sacrificing to their ancestors?" Zagu scratched his head.
"Impossible!"
Verner’s expression grew more agitated as he flatly rejected the idea. "The demons would never sacrifice to their ancestors, because to them, sacrificing to ancestors is the same as sacrificing to—"
Verner stopped abruptly, forcing the second half of the sentence back down his throat. The sheer force of the stop made one wonder if he had nearly bitten off his tongue.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Under Donnik’s suspicious gaze, Verner took a deep breath and forced himself to regain his composure.
"In any case, it’s very strange."
"I know it’s strange. I might not be as smart as you, but I’m not an idiot."
Donnik snorted, thinking Verner had been frightened out of his wits by the demon horns today, to the point where his mind wasn't even clear.
"Right, Lord Duke?"
But Lorne still didn't acknowledge Donnik. He was still watching the scenes in the distance.
"Verner." The Duke, who had been sitting as still as a statue for a long time, finally spoke.
"Present."
"I have a question for you."
"Please ask, Lord Duke."
"That wall... when was it built?"
"The wall?"
Verner squinted, following Lorne’s gaze toward the horizon.
Crude fences, tents made of tattered cloth, and various colorful flags without a unified symbol... the area at the very rear of the demon army was clearly a newly established camp.
But behind that camp, there was indeed a wall.
A black wall.
"There really is a wall."
Verner frowned.
A wall wasn't strange.
An extra wall on a battlefield wasn't strange either.
It could be a perimeter wall for the camp, a high platform for observation, or a barrier to block the Empire’s line of sight.
But the problem was...
When did this wall pop up?
Although the Empire’s scouts were currently pinned inside the fortress and couldn't be sent out, there were still people atop the highest towers of the city wall, using magic to observe the demon army’s movements day and night.
Yet, until now, why had no one reported that the demons had begun building a wall in their far rear?
It was as if... that wall had appeared out of thin air.
And not only that, this wall looked...
"It’s too long."
At the edge of the horizon, from the leftmost flank to the rightmost, there was that deepening black silhouette. Although some sections were obscured by the terrain, Verner’s intuition told him...
This wall had already encompassed the entire massive battlefield of millions.
"My deepest apologies, Lord Duke. I will immediately send men to—"
"No need."
Lorne remained calm, seemingly unswayed by this sudden anomaly. He sat there, his thick beard fluttering slightly in the wind like a lion’s mane.
He was the Lion—the Lion who could make the Imperial army stand their ground against enemies ten or a hundred times their number without retreating a single step.
And now, the Lion stood up. The entire Dolonslei Fortress seemed to shudder.
"It’s coming."
Everyone instinctively looked up and toward the distance.
Because the moment Lorne stood, the horn that had resonated across the entire battlefield stopped.
The battlefield was naturally a place of clamor and noise, but when the horn ceased, it was as if everyone was still immersed in its lingering solemnity. A brief and eerie silence fell over the entire field.
Amidst the silence, a roar began to rise.
In the distance, at the edge of the horizon, countless clouds of dust billowed, mixing with the swirling yellow sands until they were indistinguishable.
The winds of the Abyss grew more violent, like sharp blades tearing at everyone's skin.
The horizon suddenly became uneven. That beautiful, natural curve now sprouted countless tiny serrations, making the shadows cast by the passing light look exceptionally hideous.
If one were to zoom in, they would realize those weren't serrations formed by jumping lines... but a row of massive, ferocious monsters.
Earth Dragons, Panshans, Blazing Wraiths, Gomot Behemoths... the most vicious, brutal, and dangerous magical beasts of the Abyss had all appeared. Even while merely crouching there, they were taller than the black wall.
And these most savage beasts seemed to have been tamed. Upon their backs, tall and burly high-class demons were clad in magnificent armor no less impressive than that of an Imperial general. They held alchemy weapons forged from magic materials, their heads held high, their presence overwhelming.
But if one looked closely into the crimson eyes of these high-class demons, they would find an irrepressible agony... and madness.
"High-class demons... as expected, they really are launching the final total offensive!"
Donnik began to shout and bluster. After all that talk, did the horn just mean this in the end?
He shouldn't have listened to Verner’s nonsense!
"Quick, quick, quick! Get everyone ready!"
Donnik was a man of action, immediately wanting to arrange troops to face the enemy's new wave of assault.
But the demons' movements were clearly faster than Donnik anticipated.
"ROAR—"
The roar of the magical beasts was deafening, so powerful that even the Imperial soldiers far atop the wall could clearly feel the crushing pressure. Under the fearful gazes of the soldiers, those massive behemoths, driven by the high-class demons, began their charge.
They charged.
They charged.
They charged.
A charge without any hesitation!
They trampled over flesh and blood, their claws tearing through the bodies of those in their way from behind. They crashed through everything, their massive frames grinding over lives like millstones. Terrifying mana breath spewed from those hideous maws, turning everything in their path to scorched earth.
And behind them, the high-class demons swung their weapons, slaughtering every straggler. No flesh and blood could withstand such a sharp assault. The killing techniques honed in the harsh environment of the Abyss finally revealed their full horror—not to mention that the targets of those blades...
Were merely the defenseless backs of their own kind.
That’s right, "their own kind."
Donnik was stunned. Many soldiers on the wall were stunned. Even the low-class demons who had just been torn apart by the claws coming from behind... were stunned.
Confusion remained on their deformed and ugly faces. The heads flying into the sky watched the high-class demons’ sudden massacre, seemingly using their last bits of reason to wonder why they were being killed.
For those low-class demons, one moment they were launching a fearless assault on the human walls for the Great Cause of the demon race; the next, the shadows from behind arrived, and death and slaughter followed like a shadow.
Soon, a mist of blood filled the distance against the backdrop of the dusky sky. The high-class demons rode their behemoths, sweeping forward from the horizon like bulldozers. For a moment, the bloodiness of that scene surpassed even the carnage at the city wall.
It was like hell on earth.