The air inside the strategy hall of Delta Outpost was heavy with tension. The room was plain, its stone walls bare except for a large, detailed map of the surrounding region stretched across the main table. A faint smell of steel and oil clung to the air—the kind of scent that belonged to places where soldiers were always ready for a fight.
The hall was filled with captains and commanders from different divisions, their armor making soft clinks whenever they shifted in their seats. No one spoke much. All eyes turned toward Mia the moment she stepped forward.
She stood tall, shoulders squared, a stack of neatly arranged reports in her hands. Her face showed calm control, but a closer look at her eyes revealed something heavier—shadows from what she had seen beyond the portal.
"We entered the portal yesterday," she began, her voice clear and steady enough for every person in the room to hear. "Our team moved through without being noticed. The first chamber beyond the portal opens into a much larger settlement than any of us expected. This is not just an outpost—it’s a living, active city."
She placed the first report on the table, sliding it toward the nearest captain. The pages contained clean, sharp handwriting and quick sketches. "The streets were full of devils—different shapes and sizes. The larger, ogre-like devils seem to hold authority over the smaller ones. But even they make way for a different kind: those with a human-like body, horns, wings, and an aura of dark power. The way they move, the way the others treat them—it’s a clear sign they’re the highest-ranking among the devils."
Several commanders leaned in, flipping through the attached sketches and notes. Some frowned, others studied the drawings with careful interest.
Mia went on, her tone never breaking. "The buildings are built from a black stone that’s mixed with some kind of metal. Street lamps are made from crystals—black and red—that glow faintly. There are weapon forges, market stalls, and guard stations. This is not a temporary base. It is a place of strength, meant to last."
She set down another sheet—a hand-drawn map showing the streets her team had passed through. "If you follow the main market street past the guard towers, you reach the Devil King’s palace. The palace itself is... massive. From its size, it could hold an entire city within its walls. More importantly, it is close to the portal—close enough that, if we moved fast, an army could pass through and reach it in a matter of hours."
Finally, she placed her last document on the table. "I recommend this information be sent to the capital immediately. If we act quickly, this could be a rare chance to strike before they increase their defenses."
A quiet ripple moved through the room. Some captains exchanged quick, sharp nods, already imagining a successful attack. Others narrowed their eyes, clearly not convinced this was without danger.
The senior officer seated at the head of the table gathered the reports into a single stack. "These will be sent to the Authority and the War Council at once," he said firmly. Then, looking directly at Mia, he added, "You’ve done well, Captain Frostine."
Mia gave a short nod, stepping back from the table. The room filled with low murmurs as the meeting came to an end.
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In The Capital City – A Meeting Hall
The war chamber of the capital was far grander than the strategy hall of Delta Outpost. It was a wide, circular room with tall windows that looked out over the rooftops of the city. The walls were polished stone, and the table at the center was carved from black marble—big enough for thirty people to sit comfortably around it.
On one side sat the Authority—high officials wearing formal robes marked with the seal of their office. On the other side sat the War Council—armored veterans whose faces carried years of battle experience.
Mia’s reports had already arrived. Each person had a copy laid neatly in front of them.
The leader of the Authority, a man with silver hair tied back neatly, was the first to speak. He placed a hand on the document and tapped the paper lightly.
"This," he said, his voice carrying across the chamber, "is the opportunity we have been waiting for. The portal leads directly into the enemy’s heartland. The Devil King’s palace is within marching distance. If we strike now, we can remove their leader before they even realize we’re there."
One of the War Council’s older members, a commander with a jagged scar running from his cheek to his neck, leaned forward in his chair. His eyes were sharp, his voice slower and more measured. "And yet," he said, "it feels too perfect. A functioning city this close to a portal we control? We should be cautious. This could be a trap. I suggest sending more scouts to confirm their troop movements before we risk an invasion."
Several other members of the War Council nodded in agreement.
An Authority official on the opposite side of the table leaned back, shaking his head. "If we send more scouts, we risk losing the element of surprise. Every day we wait is another day for the devils to strengthen their defenses. If they decide to block or destroy the portal, this chance disappears forever."
The room buzzed with quiet arguments—War Council members pointing out how strange it was that no patrols guarded the area near the portal, while Authority leaders countered with the urgency of acting before the devils could react.
The debate dragged on for over an hour, the voices rising and falling but never reaching agreement. Finally, the silver-haired leader of the Authority raised his hand for silence.
"The Authority will proceed with the attack," he announced. "The army already stationed at Delta Outpost will lead the assault. Additional forces will be sent at once to secure the outpost itself and protect our supply lines. The Devil King will fall."
The War Council members exchanged looks—some hard and disapproving, others simply resigned. They did not believe this was without risk, but the Authority’s decision was final.
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Back at Delta Outpost
The yard outside the barracks was alive with noise and movement. Soldiers drilled in formation, the clash of metal ringing in the air. Supply wagons rolled in from the capital, unloading crates of weapons, armor, and food. The ground trembled faintly as cavalry units trained in the open field beyond the walls.
The smell of iron and leather hung over everything. Officers barked orders, and younger recruits scrambled to obey. The entire outpost seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the moment the order would come to march through the portal.
Everyone knew what lay ahead—war in the enemy’s territory. For some, it was a chance for glory. For others, it was a dangerous gamble they could only hope to survive.
And in the center of it all, the portal stood—silent, waiting. Soon, it would open for battle.