Kaelen remained calm. "Indeed," he confirmed. "Which is why I’ve called on you to act as my assistant. Together, with our magi-tech system, we must figure out a countermeasure for everyone." He paused, his gaze hardening. "The shield put up by the Sixth-Tier Mage won’t hold on for long, and we can’t depend on them to continue helping. We have to figure something out fast, or we’ll meet our end before even taking a foot into the abyss."
On the other side of the abyss, Vorenza’s subordinates reveled in a grim satisfaction. They watched with glee as the Empire’s army descended into a chaotic period of madness. A surge of temptation ran through their ranks – to strike now, to capitalize on the disarray. Yet, they hesitated, their predatory instincts tempered by caution. They were keenly aware of the three powerful mages, each no less formidable than Vorenza himself, hovering ominously in the clouds above.
Their caution was immediately validated. One of the formidable mages descended, her power rippling outwards, seemingly quelling the most overt psychic assault. The demons, however, were not truly disappointed. This minor setback was merely a ripple in the grand scheme. They knew, with absolute certainty, that this was just the beginning of the Empire army’s descent into a living hell.
This night’s psychic attack was but a brief, introductory wave. From this point onward, the true nightmare would begin. Each fallen demon, each slain Empire soldier, would fuel the next, stronger wave of psychic assault. The battlefield, once a strategic ground, would soon transform into a dance of madness, a spectacle the demons eagerly anticipated. They understood that the true war was not just one of blades and spells, but of minds and sanity.
Back in the Empire, a new and unsettling problem was brewing. For the first time since the invasion began, another Demon King, one who had previously remained aloof and seemingly uninterested in the conflict, had begun to make his move. Before this, his actions, and the Empire’s responses, felt more like a cautious dance, a play-fight where neither side truly pushed for victory.
This Demon King, now identified as Zarvok, surprised the Empire with his first official maneuver. After his recent discussions with Ikenga and Keles, Zarvok’s objective had become crystal clear. He gathered his forces to strategize on how to seize control of the territory where the "Goblin’s Mother" was located.
Zarvok’s overarching goal had always been to conquer this world without inflicting irreparable damage. This objective remained unchanged even as he initiated this new, aggressive offensive. He understood that the "Mother is the goblin empire’s weakness," a leverage point that would ultimately force them to concede their world. Gaining possession of it was now his singular focus, before the war escalated beyond control.
It so happens that Ikenga and Keles had provided Zarvok with the very means to achieve his new objective. He immediately bestowed the two Sixth-Tier souls he received from them upon two of his most trusted subordinates. These two demons had lingered at the peak of the Fifth Stage for over five centuries, awaiting precisely such an opportunity to ascend. Zarvok’s calculated move provided just that.
With this, his power grew exponentially, as he now commanded two Sixth-Tier demons. While their newfound strength elevated them to a status of near-equals rather than mere servants, their deep respect and obedience to Zarvok remained unwavering, a testament to his pivotal role in their transformation.
Zarvok’s initial offensive was swift and unexpected. He deployed one of his newly promoted Sixth-Tier demons to demolish the fortifications the Empire had painstakingly built to keep his army at bay. This audacious move caught the Empire completely off guard, as no one anticipated a high-level Sixth-Stage power to suddenly enter the fray with such decisive action.
On the long, imposing wall built by the Empire, today began like any other. The routine was set: open the gates, unleash the ratmen to harry the low-tier Imp demons of the Abyss on the battlefield. Mages and Ogre Knights, ever the gamblers, passed the time by picking out specific ratfolk, placing bets on whether they’d make it back alive.
But today, just before the gates could swing open, an inexplicable dread settled upon everyone on and beyond the wall. A cold sweat broke out universally, a chilling premonition no one could articulate.
Then, in the sky above, a figure materialized. It was a newly promoted Demon King, eyes closed, seemingly taking a deep, almost reverent breath, as if savoring the air of this new world. This was the quintessential demon, complete with leathery wings, menacing horns, and a whip-like tail.
Despite the immense pressure exerted by this foreign world, the Demon King remained poised. Slowly, deliberately, it drew a long, red sword from its back. Immediately, the air around the blade began to warp and shimmer, twisting with the intense heat radiating from the weapon. The casual betting and bored routines of the Empire’s soldiers were about to be violently interrupted.
The new Demon King, eager to witness its "Law of Scorch" in action, wasted no time. There was no need for excessive force when a Sixth-Tier being intervened. With a swift, deliberate motion, the Demon King drew a line across the sky with its long red sword, then sheathed the weapon.
The line tore open the very fabric of the heavens. The Demon King’s chest visibly swelled as its unique law filled it, and then, with a thunderous exhalation, it breathed scorching hot air into the newly formed rift.
To those facing the attack, the small line on the horizon transformed into a gaping wound in the sky. The mages and Ogre Knights on the wall watched, horrified, as the sky darkened ominously.
Through the torn heavens, a colossal maw, bristling with teeth, materialized. It, too, exhaled a torrent of scorching wind onto the lands below. The effect was instantaneous. One moment, a gentle breeze; the next, everything caught in its path was obliterated, reduced to nothing but ash. The formidable wall, the houses, the trees, the plants—everything swept by the inferno vanished. Just like that, the Empire’s meticulously built fortifications were utterly erased.
The Demon King immediately felt the severe backlash of unleashing such power on the uncorrupted land. An overwhelming malice from the surrounding world assailed it, heavily suppressing its Sixth-Tier stage. Without hesitation, it turned and flew back into the Abyss, the victory coming at a significant personal cost.
The sudden surge of malice from the world itself rippled through the Empire, a chilling wave felt by most of its Sixth-Tier Mages. However, those few, like the mages with Kaelen and others holding critical positions, were taken back but could not move. The remaining mages, those who did feel the earth’s fury, reacted in a way most would consider crude and unsophisticated, a rookie mistake rather than a display of mastery.
In a desperate, instantaneous move, these mages forcefully tore open the space around them, appearing on the scorched battlefield just moments after the high-tier demon’s devastating strike. This raw, unrefined method of teleportation came with an immediate and jarring consequence: upon arrival, each mage was flung forward for a brief, disorienting period before finally grinding to a halt.
In mere seconds, in what felt like a blink of an eye, three Sixth-Tier Mages now hovered in the sky above the desolate, ash-covered land. Their collective gaze, grim and determined, immediately fixed on the retreating form of the demon, now rapidly making its way back towards the Abyss.
One of the mages, fueled by a searing rage, summoned their magical staff and struck the open air. The sound of crashing waves immediately filled the entire area, and a gaping void ripped open behind the mage. From this swirling chasm, a colossal water giant could be seen, its immense, translucent hand rising in a silent wave.
Through the rift, an enormous amount of water, easily the size of a mountain, surged forth like a monstrous tidal wave. It roared across the scorched landscape, hurtling towards the unsuspecting demons. None of them could react in time; the sudden, overwhelming deluge swallowed them whole, tearing their bodies apart with its sheer, unstoppable force.
The Demon King, meanwhile, had reached the portal leading back to the Abyss and plunged through it just as the monstrous wave descended. No sooner had the Demon King vanished than a new figure emerged from the shimmering portal. This individual was bare-chested, covered in intricate markings, and stepped into the world with an air of unsettling calm.
This new arrival was Ikenga. Witnessing the colossal wave surging towards them, he immediately established a profound connection with the very nature of the corrupted land.
As the water bore down, Ikenga gestured with his hand, and the earth below responded. The corrupted ground ripped open, forming a vast, gaping maw. A powerful, unseen force emanated from this abyss, drawing the immense body of water towards its hungry depths. The colossal wave didn’t just flow into the chasm; it was sucked in with a thunderous roar, a frantic gurgle accompanying the earth’s rapid consumption.