Chapter 518: Dolo
The Empire's Wall, Dragon Scale Fortress.
This was the most crucial center of the defensive line and the joint command for the war effort.
Within this fortress, the upper echelons of the Imperial Military oversaw the grand strategy, coordinated operations across various regions, and managed departments including combat, training, reconnaissance, communications, and logistics.
At this moment, the atmosphere inside Dragon Scale Fortress was heavy with tension.
The fortress walls displayed magical projections of different defense sectors, all of which were now overrun by grotesque and twisted demons.
Nearly all the senior officers sat in solemn silence, their eyes uniformly fixed on the projections.
There were too many.
The demons were simply too many, an endless horde stretching beyond the horizon.
Even these battle-hardened Imperial officers had never seen an enemy force of this magnitude.
"Huff—"
Imperial Marshal Dolo exhaled smoke from the cigarette clenched in his teeth, his back turned to the room, his expression obscured. Only the drifting smoke and his towering silhouette were visible.
"Speak your minds—you've all seen them, the demons."
"This…"
Adroville, the military advisor, stared at the surging demonic tide, his expression as if he had seen a ghost.
Even as a seasoned silver dragon who had long fought on the frontlines against demons, he had never witnessed such an overwhelming force.
"Rift Demons, Giant Minotaur Demons, Soul Judge Demons, Six-Armed Serpent Demons…"
He methodically identified them, listing their names one by one.
"Even Balor Flame Demons."
At this, Adroville muttered in disbelief, "By Bahamut, this level of demon invasion…
To be honest, a demonic legion of this scale hasn't appeared in the Material Plane for over a thousand years. If I weren't seeing it with my own eyes, I'd think I had stumbled into the Blood War battlefields of Avernus."
His sentiment was genuine, as reality confirmed his fears.
The Abyssal Legion was vast, and among them were not only mid-tier demons but also many high-ranking and powerful entities.
To put it bluntly, even a tenth of this horde would have been enough to annihilate the former Northern United Kingdom and conquer all of Anzeta with ease.
But their enemy was not some fractured kingdom.
It was the Ember Empire.
A nation ruled by a mighty dragon, a terrifying war machine, a paradise for the strong and the ambitious.
Dolo was confident. In his mind, even an enormous demon legion from the Abyss could not shake the empire in the slightest.
Adroville cautiously advised, "Lord Dolo, in terms of sheer numbers and strength, these demons are beyond what any ordinary force can stop—at least, I have never seen such an invasion before. To minimize losses, should you perhaps consider retreating, even temporarily—"
"Retreat?"
Dolo let out a cold laugh.
"Like some coward—running away before the fight even starts? That is not the way of the Empire."
Adroville shook his head, his expression grave. "No, that's not what I meant. The empire is vast—we could use space to buy time and gather reinforcements…"
"Enough, Lord Adroville."
The Hobgoblin Marshal raised one hand, exhaling a heated breath of smoke from his nostrils.
The corners of his tusked mouth curled into a grin, his beady eyes glinting as his grotesque face twisted into a menacing smile.
"You may know demons well, but you do not understand the Ember Empire. You do not understand the pride that runs in our people's veins."
Dolo turned, flicking his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his boot.
His voice rose with intensity, carrying an undercurrent of long-held fury.
"For over ten years, I have personally witnessed the Ember Empire's unstoppable rise under His Majesty Cassius. We have expanded through battle after battle, growing stronger with each victory.
And this time, even against the Abyssal Demons, the outcome will remain the same—victory! If we cannot win, we will die gloriously in battle!"
Upon hearing this, every senior officer in the fortress—whether human, Hobgoblin, Tiefling, Ogre, or Lizardfolk—rose in unison, clenching their fists over their hearts.
Loyalty!
Give your heart to the Empire!
As Adroville looked around at the fervent officers, all ready to die for the empire, he found himself momentarily dazed, unsure of what to say.
He had yet to fully adapt to the unique culture of the empire, still accustomed to viewing it through the lens of human kingdoms—a mistake, clearly.
Dolo drew his long blade from his waist, his expression fierce and his voice fervent as he gave his next command to the messenger at the door: "Tell them—no need to hold back! Initiate full-scale bombardment!
We've been stockpiling shells for so long—now, we're going to enjoy ourselves. Let these Abyssal bastards taste Imperial artillery!"
The Hobgoblin's eyes burned red, his nostrils exhaling thick steam, his breaths heavy with excitement.
The other senior officers were just as eager, their diverse eyes filled with anticipation.
"This is the Empire."
Adroville marveled inwardly. The seemingly unstoppable demonic tide suddenly didn't seem as terrifying.
Abyssal demons were a walking curse, corrupting the lands they touched until the world itself became their domain.
The cursed wasteland was thick with chaotic and evil souls. Blood seeped from cracks in the earth, and grotesque, pulsating organs grew from the soil.
Once-docile deer, now blood-eyed and crazed, slammed into anything in sight until they killed themselves.
Hundreds of thousands of demons pushed forward relentlessly, their shrill, grating screams chilling all life around them.
Wherever they passed, all living things perished, leaving behind only ruins and grotesque remnants of slaughter.
Atop a throne of flesh and bone carried by an Abyssal Dragon-Beast at the rear of the demonic tide—
Leo Bosque gazed ahead, his eyes filled with hatred and scorn as he observed the defensive fortifications in the distance.
"Heh… so you're afraid after all. But these ridiculous toys won't stop the great Abyssal Legion, nor will they halt my revenge."
The demon's body trembled, his corrupted mind picturing himself tearing the Red Dragon apart.
He raised his flaming sword and roared to his legions, "Warriors of the Abyss! Crush them! Annihilate them completel—"
"Whoosh—"
A piercing sound cut through the sky.
The moment he heard it, the former Grand Duke Leo instantly recognized it—a shell shrieking through the air.
And soon, the entire defensive line echoed with the same dreadful whistling.
"Boom!"
The ground trembled as fire erupted, massive explosions blossoming within the demon tide like deadly flowers, vaporizing hundreds of lesser demons instantly.
"Aagh—"
Demons caught in the blast barely had time to scream before being obliterated.
And this was only the beginning.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The earth quaked violently as relentless bombardment engulfed the plains in a sea of fire.
"No…"
"No, this isn't right! Their artillery shouldn't be effective against higher demons!"
Leo muttered, his body trembling, as nightmarish memories resurfaced—the fall of the North, consumed in fire and steel.