NOVEL NEXT Chapter 547
Chapter 547: Overconfidence is the Enemy
The sun had set.
The demon race, who had been resting during the day, began to emerge from their tents one after another.
“Alright, it’s war time!”
“Today, I’m going to collect even more heads!”
“Though it’s mostly humans and beastmen around…”
While the demon warriors were fired up, some let out exaggerated sighs.
“They’re too weak; it’s no fun.”
“Absolutely. There’s no challenge here.”
“I want to fight stronger opponents!”
Guffawing, the demons treated the beastmen and night elf servants like mere footnotes as they donned their armor and ate their meals.
“Hmm, it’s another nice day.”
Observing the energetic figures of his subordinates, Sekihankus of the Sauroe tribe poked his head out from the tent, stretching as he looked up at the clear starry sky.
It felt refreshing.
Everyone was brimming with morale. It was as if they had completely forgotten the hell they experienced from the collapse of the dwarf fortress on the first day.
—However, the reality was that only those who had remained unscathed or were unfazed by that disaster were present here.
Those afflicted by the dwarven heavy metal poison arrows had already been transferred to the rear. Reports indicated that despite the night elves’ desperate attempts to save them, many suffered agonies before succumbing.
(It’s truly lamentable.)
Yet, there was something even more lamentable.
Among the warriors injured during the fortress collapse or in hand-to-hand combat with the dwarves, there were those whose bodies had physically recovered through teleportation spells but couldn’t stop trembling or had become terrified of going into battle!
What utter weakness!
Such behavior was unworthy of demon warriors. It’s one thing to be weak in a small tribe, but finding such incompetence within the Sauroe tribe was truly distressing.
Having managed to crawl to the surface from being buried in the deepest parts of the fortress, it was nothing but pathetic to whine about almost dying from a mere collapse.
Sekihankus was about to go directly correct their pitiful demeanor when—
(That one has no hope left; they’re useless.)
Sekihankus clicked his tongue in annoyance, his displeasure evident as a night elf maid flinched at her master’s sudden sour mood.
“Do you have no pride as members of the Sauroe tribe?!”
“What value does a demon who cannot fight hold?!”
“Can you face your ancestors with such disgrace?!”
—No matter how much he yelled or berated, the trembling wretch could only apologize endlessly, their pathetic state unbearable to witness.
“I-I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry… But I can’t move my body…!”
Sekihankus’s anger turned into disappointment at their sheer pitifulness. He expelled that weakling from the battlefield. They would be carried to the rear along with the injured.
(Foolish disgrace of our kin…)
Even though they survived being buried in the fortress, they should take pride in that. How could they tremble and claim they cannot fight? Just thinking about it infuriated him.
Within the general values of the demon race, they were shameful enough that discussing them was considered taboo. Even among the main forces of the Sauroe tribe, such pathetic beings were treated as if they did not exist. If they returned home, they would find no place for themselves.
However, from the reports of his subordinates, it seemed that among the survivors of the fortress collapse, quite a few had succumbed to despair, and the Korvto tribe was also troubled by similar weaklings.
(Was there some curse at that fortress that invited cowardice? …But I had no issues. They were merely weak of heart.)
Sekihankus snorted.
Weaklings are no true demons. They would fade into obscurity, forgotten in the depths of the history of the Demon Lord Kingdom…
“Uncle.”
A somewhat muffled voice interrupted his thoughts, enough to describe it as a little cloudy.
“Ah, Spinethia.”
Spinethia approached, munching on a chunk of ham with her beastman pack mule in tow.
(As always, what a tremendous appetite…) thought Sekihankus, recalling the reports of Spinethia’s food consumption before pushing it out of his mind. There was no need to worry; the legion’s supplies were still plentiful.
“How are things going?”
“Absolutely splendid! And you, Uncle?”
Biting into a salami piece, Spinethia had her weapons strapped on tightly, ready for battle.
(You’d think a stomach that full wouldn’t handle the movement well…)
Spinethia claimed she hadn’t been full in years, so it must be fine.
“I’m also filled with motivation!”
Sekihankus replied with a fierce grin, shifting his gaze from Spinethia to the towering castle walls ahead.
“That gate — looks to be quite the challenge.”
Indeed, he couldn’t care less about the cowards right now.
The priority was how to take down the target in front of him.
The Barklets Gorge.
There lay a view far more grand than the word “valley” would suggest. Originally, the northern part of the continent was full of mountains with varied elevations, but nothing compared to the long, steep valleys formed by the two parallel mountain ranges of the Barklets Gorge.
In fact, the gorge had enough width to comfortably hold the northern army. That was why the Feretoria Kingdom’s major artery — the Opusgardia Highway — ran through it.
And that towering gate! It had undergone ten years of incremental expansions in anticipation of the Demon Lord Army’s invasion. Made by the dwarves, the walls shone like a mirror under the moonlight, a breathtaking sight even for Sekihankus, accustomed to the Demon Lord Castle.
It was of a different caliber from the border defense posts breached so easily the day prior. The attack on Opusgardia would truly start from here, with that gate as the main course.
However, if that gate were to fall, it would lead straight to the capital of Galdia with no real obstacles left. For the allied forces, losing this gate meant there would be no hope. There were likely plans to weaken the Demon Lord Army’s strength before they took a defensive position at the Barklets Gorge, but—
The truth of the matter was, that expectation was overly simplistic, leading the allied forces to a gruesome flight instead.
(However, if that flight hadn’t occurred, perhaps we wouldn’t have pushed this far.)
Sekihankus mused suddenly.
Though they had relentlessly pursued the allied forces last night, reports indicated that not many heads had been collected. The only notable takedown was a group of the sword saints and heroes. The rest were mere foot soldiers—
And now that he was boldly positioned before the Barklets Gorge Gate, it would be beneath the demon’s dignity to retreat.
“…Going with brute force again?”
“Indeed!”
In response to Spinethia’s tilted head, Sekihankus nodded decisively.
“We’ll attempt a flanking strategy with our reserve forces, but those dwarven fortifications at the mountaintop are an annoyance.”
Dwarven fortresses stood strong on both sides of the mountains. If they climbed carelessly, who knows what might come tumbling down from the summit?
It was faster and clearer to smash through head-on than to fiddly with any tricks.
“However, I won’t let myself be buried again. I’ve sent vampires out to scout. If there’s some strange mechanism underground, I want it dismantled beforehand.”
“That’s a great idea!”
While shoving smoked eggs into her mouth, Spinethia smiled brightly.
“Mm!”
She reached out for seconds—
“Your Highness, we’re all out!”
A beastman attendant displayed an empty backpack.
“How careless! Make sure you replenish before we run out!”
“I thought it was bad and sent someone to fetch more, but they haven’t returned yet…!”
“…Oh, I see some talking meat over there. That should be quite a meal.”
“Hyah! I’ll go fetch it, please spare me!!”
A cat beastman, fur standing on end, darted away like an arrow.
“Well then, that’s why I’m off now, Uncle.”
Spinethia shrugged her shoulders while zipping up the abdomen of Bon-Deji.
“May luck be on your side! Make sure to bring back some glory!”
“Uncle too! I hope you encounter great foes!”
“Haha, no doubt. Last time I was left feeling unfulfilled…”
“I wish I’d be left feeling unfulfilled once in a while…”
Walking slowly toward the front lines of the army, Spinethia, with her suddenly flattened belly, absentmindedly patted it.
“…Now then, it’s almost time.”
The demon warriors began to gather in their tribes, preparations for the attack ready.
Sekihankus raised his hand, prepared to give the signal to start the attack—
“Your Excellency, there’s something I’d like to report…”
Just as he was about to call it, a night elf soldier rushed over.
“…What is it?”
He felt a bit annoyed, the enthusiasm drained. The night elf soldier stood at attention and said, almost squeezed out, “Actually— a whole squad of scouts we sent out have yet to return.”
…Not a comforting report.
“All of them?”
“Yes, it’s also a veteran unit with few new recruits. Even if something unexpected happened, at least one or two should have sent word, and it’s hard to believe not a single one is back. I don’t want to think they’ve been wiped out…”
The night elf soldier maintained their usual poker face, but their tone bore an air of bitterness.
“There might be unexpected ambushes from the enemy, so I report this just in case.”
“Hmm, I see.”
They might have delayed reporting until the last moment, hoping for the scouts’ return. If not a single scout returned with information, it would be embarrassing. If Sekihankus were a commanding officer, he would feel ashamed to make a report of that nature.
Moreover, hiding this and later revealing the possibility of an ambush would cause even more trouble.
“It’s better to be cautious. Thank you for the report.”
“Yes…”
The night elf soldier bowed in relief and stepped back.
(…Most likely, they just ran into a squad of forest elf archers.)
Watching their retreating figure, Sekihankus shrugged.
He had briefly acknowledged that they had done a decent job, but he didn’t take it too seriously.
While he held a high regard for the night elves’ abilities as servants and spies, he considered their combat skills, excluding the archmage, rather unimpressive. Honestly, he saw them as weaklings.
Even hearing that an entire squad had been wiped out didn’t faze him—just a bunch of weaklings.
Well, such things happen.
They were weaklings after all.
(Taking risks before dusk, did they get careless thinking they were in a favorable position?)
He wanted to focus on breaching the gorge gate rather than worry about a single unreturned scout squad. This thought quickly left Sekihankus’s mind.
“Now then, how long will that gate hold?”
Clasping his arms, Sekihankus smiled defiantly.
In terms of scale, the fortress from the first day had been far smaller, but it was all dwarven blacksmith warriors defending it.
In contrast, the gate before him was grand and impressive, but it was guarded by lesser species like humans and beastmen—who could just as easily fall.
“Perhaps it could be surprisingly difficult? …Heh, that would be entertaining as well.”
No matter what awaited him—
“I WILL ACCEPT IT…!!”
With palpable magical energy emanating from him, Sekihankus raised his hand once more.
“All troops—attack commence!!”
He brought his hand down.
With a roar of zeal, the Demon Lord Army charged toward the Barklets Gorge gate.
As thoughts of facing strong enemies crossed his mind, Sekihankus calmly watched the assault of his subordinates.
…
…
…
…
On the wall.
“Odigos.”
She inquired while drawing her bow.
“—Where’s the enemy’s commander?”