"Strength."
That single word echoed through the chamber like thunder.
Every one of them fell silent, the meaning of the word sinking into their minds. "Strength" could mean many things and take many forms, from soldiers to weapons. But when Overlord spoke it, they all knew exactly what he meant.
"No matter who our enemy is," Overlord said, his tone measured and absolute, "we will need the strength to crush them. Which means only one thing—it is time our forces march into the Abyss."
Every gaze in the room widened.
The Abyss. A place of chaos, eternal war, and endless hunger—a realm where even the Lords of Hell tread carefully. The idea of willingly entering it now, when the Kingdom already faced danger on multiple fronts, was madness.
And yet, none of them interrupted. Overlord's plans were never reckless; they were calculated with mechanical precision.
