Meanwhile, in the Commander's office, in the lord's hall of the Fortress of Liberation...
"Grandfather, there are too many people watching... Can I lower my arm now?" Caron asked cautiously.
"Ssshhh," Halo hushed Caron.
"...Yes, sir," Caron replied quietly as he stood in the corner of the Commander's office, his face bruised as he endured punishment.
The other officers tried hard to keep from laughing at the rare sight of Caron being disciplined.
As expected, only the head of the house can do this.
That mad dog turns into nothing but a puppy before him!
The main force's landing operation had been a great success.
The magical lighthouse at the harbor had opened the sea path, while airships and coastal batteries had wiped out the monster swarms that charged in like packs of wild dogs.
Landing operations were among the most difficult of all military maneuvers. Yet thanks to the vanguard laying down such a solid foundation, the main force had landed on the shores almost effortlessly.
As Caron endured his punishment, Leon quietly approached him and pulled jerky from his pocket.
"Caron," Leon called quietly. "This is special jerky from the elves, sent as military supplies from the Great Forest."
Caron's face brightened, and he said with a grin, "Only you would think of me, Leon. You knew I'd be hungry..."
Leon dangled the jerky in front of him once, then, without hesitation, popped it into her own mouth.
Munch, munch.
"This is delicious. Are you jealous?" Leon mocked.
"...That's just cruel," Caron muttered.
"That's what you get for abandoning me and running off first," Leon snapped.
While the cousins displayed their odd version of familial affection, Halo looked toward Zerath and ordered, "Give me a brief report on the current situation."
Zerath nodded and gestured to a mage from the Magic Tower.
And at once...
Fwooom!
A three-dimensional map appeared in the air.
"This is the terrain data gathered by the scouts so far. As you can see, the land around this fortress is low, and the elevation rises the further inward you go," Zerath began.
"And what area have we secured?" Halo asked.
"We have completely subjugated the lowlands. Lord Caron personally absorbed the local nobility, and they stand ready to be mobilized at any time," Zerath answered.
News had spread that the detested demon nobles had been turned into meat shields for the expeditionary army.
The idea of relying on demons was distasteful, but since Caron was said to have absolute control over them, they decided to let it pass—for now.
If anything went wrong, they could always execute them all.
"I heard civil operations are being conducted with the slave class. Are they cooperating?" Halo asked.
"At present, the Liberated are gladly lending their strength. Though their size is no different from humans, their physical abilities, especially strength, are overwhelmingly superior—comparable to orcs or giants," Zerath explained.
"And the language barrier?" Halo asked.
"There are no significant issues," Zerath answered.
"That's fortunate. The engineering corps must be relieved," Halo said.
The expedition would face a long war in the Demon Realm, and the most essential factor was supply lines.
Securing them required immense labor, but with the Liberated joining in, much of that burden had been lifted. It felt as though the gods themselves were blessing the expedition.
The report continued, and the commanders, including Halo, listened quietly to Zerath's explanation.
Half an hour later...
"...That concludes the report," Zerath said and sat down.
Halo's gaze swept over the gathered commanders as he said, "I wish to hear your opinions. The expeditionary force will be divided into three armies, according to the original structure."
A single concentrated assault would be foolish. The expedition's numbers had swelled to three hundred thousand, and even now, reinforcements were still crossing the North Sea.
"Zerath Winterguard will command the First Army, Sir Uriel will lead the Second, and Chief Tauga of the beastkin will take the Third," Halo ordered.
This had been decided long ago, so no one raised an objection.
"The First will advance north, the Second to the northeast, and the Third will hold position at the fortress, waiting for an opportunity," Halo added.
From intelligence gathered through scouts and interrogated demon nobles, the Demon King of Sloth was said to dwell northeast of the Fortress of Liberation.
To conquer his territory, the King himself would have to be eliminated. And once the Demon King of Sloth fell, the expedition could project its power into other realms.
"The Third Army will remain as reserves, supporting whichever of the First or Second Armies encounters the strongest resistance."
"We accept your command," the officers answered in unison.
The expedition was formed of many races and nations, yet none dared challenge the supreme authority of the continent's mightiest warrior.
Halo nodded with his usual calm. Then he turned to Vice Commander Hollander and said, "The staff and operational command will be entirely in your hands."
"Are you certain?" Hollander asked.
"I will spend more time at the front than at headquarters. Naturally, it is your place to oversee staff operations," Halo replied.
Halo Leston was the commander of the expeditionary army and was the one who wielded the sharpest blade on the continent. He was the only one who could even dream of victory against a Demon King.
To keep Halo from the battlefield would be sheer folly.
Hollander bowed his head and said, "I will not fail your trust."
With the chain of command firmly set, Halo's eyes shifted to his grandson. He sighed softly and said, "...Caron Leston and his special unit will remain directly under expeditionary headquarters and be granted independent operational authority."
"As expected, our Commander is so wise," Caron said.
"Don't even think of lowering that arm just yet, Caron," Halo warned. "From this point on, you will follow only Vice Commander Hollander's orders. No more acting on your own. Understood?"
"Even though they call me the Demon King of Liberation, naturally I should be at the very front—ah, fine, fine, Grandfather. Put the sword away," Caron said.
The true war had begun. Up until now, Caron had enjoyed extraordinary freedom, but that time was over.
It was clear who the Demon King of Sloth would target.
Sloth will come for you, Caron, Halo thought.
Caron, who carried the power of a Demon King within him, was an irresistible prize. Sloth would stop at nothing to seize his head.
Thus, Caron had to be kept in the rear. That alone would hinder Sloth's movements.
"Never forget we are in the Demon Realm," Halo said, his voice hard. "Beings far beyond common sense hunger for our throats."
The wrath of the continent had reached the Demon Realm.
And so began the war that would decide the fate of the world.
***
After receiving authority from Halo, Hollander began to display commanding ability that seemed almost like magic.
"Attach the dwarven artillery battalion to the First Army."
"The Second Army will advance immediately with the orc wyvern assault brigade."
Hollander distributed the strength of the expeditionary force with remarkable efficiency, and each army began to extend its lines according to its assigned role.
The Fortress of Liberation, being close to the landing point, served perfectly as their headquarters. Thanks to the vanguard, it had already been reinforced into a near-impregnable stronghold, one that didn't falter even under sudden raids.
An army forged from the elites of every race, tempered with a training period that was far from short—the expedition launched into war without delay.
It was the opening of hostilities. The expedition roared as though it had been waiting for this very moment.
"Drive the demons out!"
"Those who surrender—take them as prisoners and send them to headquarters!"
Those who resisted were slain, and those who yielded were handed over to Caron.
The speed of the First and Second Armies' advance was almost unbelievable. And in that process, the soldiers of the expedition realized a startling truth.
"These bastards..."
"...They're weaker than we thought."
The demons were far weaker than expected.
Though they tried to counterattack by driving herds of demonic monsters into battle, those creatures were no match for the expeditionary troops.
The colossal demonic monsters such as minotaurs and the like were nothing but slabs of meat before the concentrated fire of the mages and dwarven artillery. Against the forces of the Holy Kingdom, with paladins among them, they were butchered with pitiful ease.
The demons had no tactics. They only charged mindlessly in, headfirst.
As the early stages of the war unfolded so differently than predicted, Hollander couldn't help but brood at the headquarters. "...Is this a trap? No, too clumsy to be one..."
War was never supposed to be this easy. This wasn't a clash between men, but between men and living war machines.
Hollander was confused, because he'd thought the demons were supposed to be a race born to bleed and fight from the moment they drew breath. Every time they had appeared on the continent, disasters of unspeakable scale had followed. It made no sense for the fighting to go so smoothly now.
"What did we miss?" Hollander muttered, rubbing his temple.
Caron, sitting nearby with a drink, gave him a pitying look. He took a gulp, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and said, "You're not missing anything, Vice Commander."
"Does this not strike you as strange?" Hollander pressed.
"Underestimating the enemy is dangerous, sure," Caron replied, "but overestimating them isn't exactly wise either."
"You mean to say we've been overestimating the demons?" Hollander asked.
"Let me lay it out for you," Caron said as he set the bottle down on the table with a thump, then grinned and stepped closer.
"Think about it. We've tortured and interrogated demons more times than we can count. From that, we've seen exactly how their society is structured," he continued.
"Go on," Hollander urged.
"Combat is reserved only for the noble class, and there aren't even that many nobles to begin with. On top of that, their breeding rate for combat-capable populations is painfully slow. From the start, they don't even allow the slave caste of demons to become fighters," Caron explained.
It was true the demons were descended from a once highly advanced civilization.
But after asking himself if they were still as advanced now, Hollander thought, Not a chance.
Apart from the Demon King and the nobility, the rest were nothing but slaves and attendants.
The ranks of their legions were filled out by demonic monsters. But mindless, bloodthirsty monsters would never be able to wield higher tactics.
The results of the battles so far gave the answer.
"And the competent fighters? They've all marched off to fight the Demon Queen of Lust. What's left behind in the rear are the dregs," Caron pointed out.
Those worthy of being called elites had already been drawn into the wars between Demon Kings themselves.
No Demon King could hold two fronts at once. That was precisely why Sloth's territory had been chosen as the first target—it jutted southward at a vulnerable peninsula, and striking there avoided simultaneous war with three Demon Kings.
"Shoddy demons, brainless demonic monsters, and a rear with no experience in defensive warfare—combine those, and you get what we're seeing now," Caron concluded.
By the third day of the main campaign, the territory under expeditionary control was expanding at staggering speed.
But such moments were precisely when vigilance was most necessary.
"The real battle hasn't even started yet," Caron said.
So far, they had only exploited the advantage of a preemptive strike. Once the enemy regained its footing, casualties would certainly rise.
"Caron," Hollander called.
"Yes?" Caron answered.
"Shouldn't you be working at the prisoner camps right now? This is outright dereliction of duty," Hollander asked. Ever the principled officer, he rebuked Caron sharply.
Caron only shrugged and replied, "Ah, I sent a clone."
"...That actually works?" Hollander asked.
"Yeah, it seems to work," Caron said.
Since the assigned task was being handled, Hollander had no immediate retort. He turned instead to glare out the window, still dissatisfied.
"Strange. It's far too quiet today," he muttered.
Since the main force had taken up position in the fortress, flying demonic monsters had been swooping in relentlessly. Even that very morning, the turrets had been firing non-stop to shoot them down.
But now, it was unnaturally still.
The calm before the storm, as the saying went. It was exactly that.
"Vice-Commander," Caron said.
"What?" Hollander answered.
"If it's quiet, that's a blessing. Why on earth would you say it out loud? Have you gotten so old you've lost your instincts? No! What kind of commander says such careless things on the battlefield?" Caron's face was pale as he snapped at Hollander, respect for elders thrown out the window.
Hollander clenched his fist, struggling to keep his temper as he began, "I don't believe in such superstition. A civilized empire must rise above such nonsense—"
But then...
Whoosh!
The communications orb that linked the command network vibrated violently. With a sigh, Hollander activated it.
Moments later, Sir Zerath's voice rang out from beyond.
"First Army Commander, what is—" Hollander began, but was cut short by Zerath's urgent cry.
"Commander, it's the Demon King! The Demon King of Sloth has moved himself! We request reinforcements!" Zerath interrupted. For the first time, he sounded shaken.
Hollander's expression hardened as he said, "...Understood. I'll notify the Third Army—"
But then another voice cut in, urgent and strained—Uriel, Commander of the Second Army, Beatrice herself.
"The Demon King of Sloth has appeared here as well! Casualties are rising fast—we need immediate support!" Uriel shouted.
The shocking report crashed down. The Demon King of Sloth had appeared in two places at once.
Hearing the report, Caron smirked and gazed out the window, then said, "So, you've finally decided to move?"
The Demon King who had never once stirred from his castle had at last lifted his heavy body.