Damon realized one thing. If he focused on reaching the Black Tower while the enemy still held the advantage, they would lose and everything would be futile.

He had a theory about how to end the nightmare. Actually, he had two. But he was counting on the first one. The second was a possibility he did not even want to consider.

However, for now, they had to beat the enemy.

Damon recalled playing a game of chess with his grandfather in Lumos. In every game they played, the old Grand Duke always won. Damon could put up a good fight, but on the chessboard he always lost.

During one of his losses, Damon argued that on the field of battle it was impossible to control every situation and every variable like in a game of chess. There were no rules to obey.

More importantly, you could not have a bird's-eye view of the battlefield. Neither could you command all your pieces.

His grandfather had agreed with him on that fact, then argued back.

"But this is chess."

And since it was not the battlefield, why was Damon applying battlefield logic to the game?

However, this was the battlefield.

And Damon had two of those things.

Sure, his army was weaker and lacked information and numbers, but what if they didn't?

Damon spread his shadow perception from where he stood. He saw many kilometers around him as shadows crawled through streets, over rooftops, and into ruined buildings.

However, that still brought the problem of not being able to communicate with them.

Except each of them carried Lazarak's brand, and he could communicate with anyone who bore it.

Then Damon chose to take control.

He spoke to everyone through the brand, not with his charm, but with the brand itself.

"I am Damon Grey, and I am speaking to you all through the brands on your bodies. I will temporarily assume command and direct our advance on the Black Tower."

Naturally, to give himself legitimacy, he decided to work together with Abellona and the leader of the Demon Heirs as his support.

"My command will be supported by the Third Princess Abellona and Bakemon Baal."

Their army was made up of many factions, but the primary ones were demons and goddess races, and right now they were fighting side by side for survival.

"We need to clear a path to the Black Tower, and to do so we must destroy their defensive line."

Damon moved toward a building and jumped into the rubble, pulling out a bleeding member of the goddess races who was being healed by a Demon Heir after they were blasted by one of the falling feathers of Seraph Null.

"Those of you in the western district with long-range offensive spells, I want you on the buildings and waiting for my orders. There is a hidden cache of potions that was part of our original supply line. Take as many as you can."

Damon issued the order while analyzing the vast movement flowing through his shadows.

"Healers and tanks, follow them. Take the healing-grade potions and form a medical bay for the injured."

Then he gave another order.

"All archers and remaining mages who are not in the western district, those in the eastern district, meet me at the oasis. The rest of you advance toward the Black Tower."

Then Damon contacted Bakemon Baal, the leader of the Demon Heirs.

"I need you demons to join up with the fairies and fae, as well as any species with wings, to form an aerial assault. When I give the signal, can you gather everyone together?"

Bakemon's calm voice answered.

"Hmm. I can. I am the son of the Lord of Order, though I am unsure what to call this. The day proud demons fight shoulder to shoulder with goddess races."

Damon scoffed, unsurprised.

"Haven't you heard? The world is coming to an end, and this is only the beginning. Times are changing, Bakemon. Change, or be left in the dust."

Somewhere on the battlefield, the chained Apostle's head hung from a length of chain. Bakemon stood nearby, bleeding from his entire body, yet still smiling after killing an Apostle.

"Yes, the world is changing."

He looked ahead, his gaze falling on the goddess-race youths who had died fighting alongside him.

"The world has gone mad, and the sane cannot live in it. We must all go mad with it."

….

Damon reached the oasis.

This place had once been beautiful, with water flowing through elegant canals and trees growing in the blistering desert city. Now it was red with blood and filled with floating corpses.

When he arrived, the mages and archers had already gathered.

Damon pointed at a tall building.

"Get to the roof."

He jumped up in a single leap, and they followed, spreading across the rooftops.

"Get ready. All of you will be aiming in that direction."

He pointed toward the buildings blocking the defensive line leading to the Black Tower.

Damon didn't wait for doubt. He activated his brand and contacted another squad of mages.

"All mages, use your magic to level the buildings in the eastern area leading toward the Black Tower. Attack on my order."

From where he stood, his shadow perception saw them begin charging their spells, mana gathering and distorting the air.

Damon grabbed the mage closest to him.

"The moment those buildings go down, you'll have a clear view of the enemy line. Fire before they can form barriers and shields."

"Ready," he shouted over the noise as everyone scrambled into position.

Then he gave the order to the western unit.

Balls of destruction filled the sky, raining down on the buildings and leveling them. Before the smoke could settle, Damon raised his hand.

The chained knights turned toward the collapsing structures, preparing to defend against another volley.

But from behind them, colored death filled the sky.

Magic from hundreds of fighters launched at once, streaking toward the exposed line. The buildings that had concealed them were gone.

A chained knight dropped his shield, his eyes reflecting pure horror.

"By the gods," he muttered as death rained down in a deafening expulsion.

At the front, Abellona raised her spear.

"Advance," she screamed as hundreds roared and surged forward behind her.

They had broken the first defensive line.

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