Chapter 194. Resolution (3)
Baltho stood atop the city walls, watching Caron.
Below the walls, hell had already broken loose. The dark elves who had come as envoys now lay dead on the ground. And behind them, wave after wave of demonic monsters and dark elves charged toward Caron.
Corpses littered the battlefield. The more time passed, the more enemies poured in without end.
The sight made the guard captain standing beside Baltho clench his fists, his voice rising in frustration. "High Elder! Are you really just going to stand here and watch?"
Just minutes ago, that very same guard captain had regarded Caron with suspicion and disdain. Now, however, there was no mistaking the fury in his eyes.
A human was fighting. A lone human was holding back an endless tide of dark elves, standing against them with nothing but his own strength. It was a desperate, brutal battle.
Caron, a human with no connection to the elves, fought silently with his back to the wall, swinging his sword without pause.
"High Elder!" the guard captain shouted again.
He wanted to rush down and fight alongside Caron. And he wasn't the only one to think that, either. Every elf standing on that wall, watching the battle unfold, felt the same. They felt a fire of rage burning within them, and guilt clawing at their chests that a human was fighting in their place. But all they could do was watch helplessly.
The mix of those countless emotions coalesced into a single, overwhelming feeling of fury.
But Baltho remained still, fists clenched, watching the brutal struggle unfold. He thought, We have to believe in him.
Caron's words from earlier when they were going up the city walls still echoed in his mind.
"High Elder, no matter what happens, you must only watch."
And at last, Baltho understood why Caron had said that.
What the elves of Aileen had lacked all this time was the will to fight. Surrounded by dark elves, trapped in a siege with no hope of escape, despair had begun to eat away at them.
Perhaps that was exactly what the Demon King of Sloth had intended, breaking them from within, crushing their spirits before the battle had even begun.
But right now, Caron was setting fire to their hearts.
"All forces, prepare to support Caron Leston—" the guard captain began, but was cut off.
"I said to just watch!" Baltho's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
Baltho had never raised his voice before, so the guard captain flinched, startled by the unexpected outburst.
"Engrave this sight into your minds," Baltho said. He could see the raw brutality of Caron's battle.
People often called men like Caron heroes—the kind who shouldered the hopes of everyone and fought alone as noble, shining figures.
But what Baltho saw in Caron wasn't nobility.
This is monstrous killing intent, Baltho thought.
There was nothing pure or righteous about it. The killing intent was suffocating. It was so thick and intense that it made those watching struggle to breathe.
Baltho wondered who all that murderous intent was truly directed at.
Boom!
Caron Leston's sword erupted in a whirlwind, tearing mercilessly through the dark elves.
A dense fog of mana spread across the battlefield, and in the blink of an eye, it was stained red. Dark blue mist turned to crimson, and the more blood the fog absorbed, the stronger it grew.
"Aaaargh!"
Kyaaaaah!
The agonized screams of demonic monsters and dark elves mixed into a chaotic symphony.
Some demonic monsters began to run wild, their eyes rolling back in a frenzy, and the dark elves were no different. The enemy forces attacked their own kind and comrades without hesitation. As if an internal war had broken out, the battlefield descended into pure chaos.
And in the midst of it all, a lone human stood, bathed in a cold, eerie blue light. The cold mana and the terrifying killing intent emanating from him dominated the battlefield.
"This," Baltho murmured, "is war."
A place where it was kill or be killed... That was the battlefield.
Baltho had always known how arrogant the elves of the Eastern Great Forest had been. Their advanced magic had effortlessly repelled intruders, giving their enemies hell.
But this war was different. The dark elves, with a Demon King at their back, had expanded their forces at an alarming rate. And now, they stood in front of Aileen.
"We must be willing to lay down our lives," Baltho said.
The dark elves didn't fear death. That was how they'd managed to push this far into Aileen.
The elves, on the other hand, still did. Long years of peace and the security of their powerful magic had made them weak.
"Five days," Baltho said.
That was all they needed. Five days until reinforcements from the Southern Great Forest arrived. They had to hold out until then—no matter what.
"Engrave that human's image into your minds. Then return to the city and bear witness. Let them know what we're facing, what we must do to claim a future..." Baltho said. His voice was steady, though heavy with meaning. "You already know the answer, don't you?"
There would be sacrifices, the city would burn, and blood would spill in rivers, but they couldn't let fear consume them.
"My kin," Baltho continued, taking in every movement, every strike Caron made. He wouldn't let himself forget a single thing. "When our southern kin arrive, I want us to greet them with our heads held high. To say, without shame, that we fought—that we gave our lives to defend our home."
Swooosh!
In the distance, darkness rippled like a living thing. Gargoyles, undead, and flying demonic monsters emerged, filling the sky. The stench of dark magic thickened, clinging to the air.
Baltho raised a hand and pointed, then his voice rang out, firm and commanding. "Activate the magic turrets!"
Caron had predicted that flying demonic monsters would join the battle. And the moment they did, he had told the elves to intervene in full force.
Whoosh!
At Baltho's command, the turrets stationed across the fortress walls roared to life. They were embedded with countless spells, each one a pinnacle of elven craftsmanship.
These turrets were the city's true strength. They were the weapons that had kept Aileen standing, unyielding, for so long.
As dozens of turrets locked onto the sky, Baltho raised his staff high. Then, with unwavering resolve, he gave the order, "Fire!"
Vrrrrrrrrm!
Boom!
Dozens of turrets unleashed their magic at once.
For their kin.
For their Mother.
And, more than anything...
"For the future," Baltho said.
For the next generation, who deserved to live in a world better than this one.
A spark ignited in the hearts of the elves who had been trapped in Aileen. And that spark completely burned away the fear that had shrouded their hearts.
***
On the hill overlooking Aileen, a lavishly adorned tent stood tall.
"Master, what would you have me do now?" Lurtaka, the king of the dark elves, asked as he lowered his head toward a young man seated at the highest seat of honor.
"We will just watch for now," the young man said as he tilted his glass, swirling the blood-red wine within; a faint smile played on his lips.
"There is no need to rush, Lurtaka. Everything will unfold according to your will," he said with ease, taking a slow sip of the wine.
"He is truly a remarkable human, don't you agree? That bloodlust... The more I see it, the more I want it," he remarked.
He, the Demon King of Sloth, the one who had taken the king of the dark elves as his vassal, gazed at the human slaughtering his enemies before Aileen's walls. His lips curled with satisfaction. He thought it was such exquisite killing intent.
Even among the demons under his command, only a rare few displayed such pure, undiluted bloodlust.
"Is this not a splendid spectacle? Watching them struggle to survive is a most entertaining sight," he said.
Even in that moment, dark elves were dying in droves. And yet, the Demon King of Sloth remained unbothered, his expression calm, almost indulgent.
"Time is on our side. Do not grow impatient. When we have gathered enough souls, the gate will open. Until then, you must drive your people deeper into that hell. Do you understand?" he asked.
"I understand, my Lord," Lurtaka replied. He didn't bother hiding the greedy gleam in his eyes.
His master had promised him a lot of things. Once the gate opened, the army that poured forth would consume this land. The Eastern Great Forest would become his domain, and the World Tree standing there would belong to the dark elves alone.
"Your dark elves shall serve as my vanguard, piercing through the continent at my command," the Demon King of Sloth added.
"Your generosity is boundless, my Lord!" Lurtaka exclaimed.
The Demon King of Sloth made his vow in a voice thick with languor.
The Eastern Great Forest was isolated, which meant no one would come to its aid.
The Demon King extended his hand, running his fingers through Lurtaka's hair as he said, "We have waited for a long time."
Three hundred years ago, a wretched human of Leston had severed the demon realm beyond the North Sea from this world. He was truly a monstrous man. He had allied with dragons to seal away the demons, and as a result, the Demon Kings could no longer manifest freely upon the continent.
"Rael Leston..." the Demon King of Sloth muttered as he conjured the long-forgotten face of that man.
He thought to himself that Rael hadn't hesitated to sow discord among the Demon Kings, and in some ways, he had been more demonic than the demons themselves.
Rael had carved through the Demon Realm, the very land beyond the North Sea. Of course, he hadn't acted alone. Many heroes had stood at his side.
"He was quite the entertaining one," the Demon King of Sloth remarked.
Had the Demon King of the Void not intervened personally, that human would have destroyed the Demon Realm entirely.
"And now, his descendant stands in my way. What an amusing fate, is it not?" the Demon King of Sloth continued. A slow, deep smile stretched across his face as he gazed into a crystal orb. Within it, Caron Leston's image flickered.
Caron was once a slave, now reincarnated, carrying an insatiable thirst for vengeance; he had been born into the Ducal Family of Leston. The Demon King of Sloth had many questions about him.
It was undeniable that the World Tree had played a role in his reincarnation, but beyond that, the truth remained shrouded. And that made the Demon King all the more curious. He wondered why the World Tree had chosen the slave of Havoc.
"Lurtaka," the Demon King of Sloth called out.
At his call, his vassal once again bowed deeply and replied, "Yes, my Lord!"
"Order the ones I planted inside Aileen to self-destruct. Then, shroud the city in my dark mana. Let them understand that resistance is meaningless," the Demon King of Sloth ordered. His lazy voice rippled through the tent, carrying an undeniable weight.
Caron Leston, that clever man, had spilled his own blood to ignite the elves' fighting spirit. But soon, they would come to realize the truth that against the power of a Demon King, such defiance was meaningless.
"The only fate allowed to the elves of Aileen is to live as livestock. Their lives will be consumed by indolence, and they will forsake their duty," the Demon King of Sloth said.
The elves would forget their obligation to defend their city. In its place, only a hazy, desperate desire to survive would remain. And that desire would manifest as sloth.
"Begin the ritual," the Demon King of Sloth ordered as he set down his glass and rose from his seat.
Then, he whispered into Lurtaka's ear, "Sacrifice countless lives to summon my true body and my legion to this world. If you do, everything you desire shall be yours."
"I shall do so gladly, my Lord," Lurtaka replied.
This was merely the foothold. Through the sapling of the World Tree, a gateway to the Demon Realm would be created, and from here, death would spread across the continent.
By the time the so-called heroes of the continent arrived, it would already be too late.
The Demon King of Sloth smiled, utterly pleased.
The plan would work out.
Without fail.
***
At the same time, far to the east, upon the vast ocean...
"Hah... Haaah..."
Kepha, a pirate with a decade of experience, clung desperately to a wooden plank floating in the water, his breath rugged and uneven. He swallowed hard as the memory of what had just happened flooded his mind.
It had been just a single ship, a vessel of a design he'd never seen before.
This was the territory of the Humpback Whale Pirates, the waters they ruled. Naturally, he and his crew had charged in, intent on raiding the lone ship. Since they had twelve pirate ships at their command, they'd thought that surely, a single vessel wouldn't stand a chance.
But that had been nothing more than their own foolish delusion.
W-What the hell was that...? Kepha thought.
It had taken no more than ten seconds for all the pirate ships to be destroyed. A brief glimmer had flashed from the stern of the mysterious ship, and in an instant, every single pirate ship had been shattered into pieces, reduced to drifting wreckage.
He wondered if there had been a mage aboard.
Whoosh!
"...Huh?" Kepha reacted as a strange sound reached his ears, making him instinctively turn his gaze southward.
And there, emerging from the horizon, were several enormous ships lined up in perfect formation. Their hulls were built from an unusual type of wood, unlike anything he had ever seen.
The sheer size of the approaching fleet left Kepha utterly speechless. He thought, What... What in the world is happening...?
But his thoughts didn't last long.
Crash!
A monstrous wave surged in from nowhere, swallowing him whole.
The sea didn't rest until every last pirate who had survived was dragged beneath the waves. And then, in the eerie silence that followed, the massive fleet sailed swiftly onward.
Whoosh!
Another storm was rushing toward the Eastern Great Forest.