The first defensive line was broken, and the apostles were occupied fighting their opponents.

He sat in a chamber within the tower, surrounded by countless hanging chains, a projection hovering before him.

The chained knights were retreating to reinforce the second defensive line. However, retreating while facing an advancing enemy was catastrophic. For every man who reached the second defensive line, twenty were slain with their backs turned.

Retreating was one of the most difficult aspects of war, and it was ill-advised to do so without proper planning.

"They are more powerful than I thought," his voice was cold and husky.

This was a fact he did not want to accept. That the lowly branded people he had ruled over for centuries had grown this strong, this organized, and their numbers were increasing with every moment.

They had Seraph Null, and so he had grown comfortable. But even Seraph Null did not realize that the minor god Lazarak was with them.

In this epoch, wars were won with two things. A superior army and tactics, and a powerful god on your side.

They had a god, so in that regard it was even. However, they were not an army. At most, they were an armed mob with battle experience. They had not fought as an organized force for long.

They had no time to train in battlefield tactics. Their formations were scattered, and they were far more effective at guerrilla warfare than a sustained battlefield advance.

Otherwise, they would have already broken through to the second line of defense.

He took a sip from the drink beside him.

The ones holding this group together were their leaders. They were the ones providing tactics.

The fae woman with red eyes had clearly seen her share of warfare. The horned man with bat-like wings who had killed the chained Apostle was also capable. He possessed an attribute focused on control.

There were others too.

But the one who truly disrupted everything was that black-haired wretch who kept diving from shadow to shadow.

He seemed to possess a complete view of the battlefield, controlling everything.

Tapping his throne lightly, he spoke.

"This battle will not end easily. My god will fight theirs for an extended period of time. In the meantime, they will try to establish a defensive line to secure the territory they have already claimed."

He analyzed the flow of the battle.

"They will advance in a few hours, while they still have strength and resources."

He smiled, his twisted grin spreading an eerie chill through the chamber.

This was the king of the chained people, known as the High Prophet.

The right hand of god.

…..

Damon watched as they advanced through corpses, ally and enemy alike. This was not an open-field battle. As they pushed toward the second defensive line, the enemy gained cover to hide behind.

More importantly, the second defensive line was reinforced with wards and barriers. It was a true defensive position, hiding them behind thick shields and barricades.

"So they'll turtle now. We need to destroy that barrier."

Damon turned and glanced at the mages and archers behind him.

"Time to move. Let's go."

A female mage holding a wooden staff with a glowing gem paused, tilting her head.

"Hmm, leave? Shouldn't we press our advantage and blast the second defensive line with a volley?" she asked, her face smeared with blood and soot.

"No," Damon shook his head slowly, frowning.

"The buildings in this city are more fragile than modern ones. This area has no cover. It was good for a surprise attack, but it will be difficult to defend."

He did not need to explain further. Hearing his words, they nodded and waited.

"What do we do next?" someone asked.

Damon jumped down from the rubble.

"Let's regroup with the main force and establish a defensive line of our own."

He activated his brand and called the others back.

By the time he reached what had once been the enemy's defensive line, Abellona had already chosen to halt the advance.

Damon found her efficiency in establishing war tents impressive. He would never have been able to get so many people to follow him without cutting off a few heads. Yet she managed it effortlessly.

It was not even because of her status as a princess. She was simply an experienced war general.

He found her inside a former enemy command tent.

She was examining a man whose armor bore several deep dents.

Damon's entrance earned only a curt nod.

"Their current barrier is strong. Most likely a siege barrier, the same type we use in modern cities," she muttered.

"Advancing will be a nightmare. We could sacrifice the natives who joined us, but I despise the idea of abandoning part of my army simply because they are different."

Her fist clenched.

Damon crossed his arms.

"However, you considered it. After all, they might just be illusions, and we are real."

He chuckled softly.

"You're a real softie. In your position, I would not hesitate to use them as collateral damage."

She smiled faintly.

"But you haven't. After all, you are as much in command as I am. So what changed since that night?"

Damon looked away slightly and sighed.

"The only thing that changed is that you ruined my chance to write a very touching goodbye."

She sighed but said nothing.

"I assume you have a way to break through the second defensive line," she said.

Damon glanced at the map spread across the table.

"I do. But even if we break it, so what? They still have barricades and shields reinforced with magic."

Abellona crossed her arms.

"So you have a plan, then."

Damon nodded slowly, his gaze cold.

"You need to ask Lilith Astranova and Sylvia Moonveil to cooperate with Renata Malcrist to break the barrier."

He raised his hand slightly.

"Sylvia can identify weaknesses. Lilith has the power to nullify part of it, and Renata can reduce its overall strength."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm."

Damon added, "We can't bring down the whole thing, but we can open a section."

"That's not what's confusing me," Abellona said. "Aren't you close to Lilith Astranova? Why are you asking me to tell her?"

Damon bit his lip and scratched his head.

"Erm… I think Lilith might be a little mad at me."

"Hmm, I wonder why," Abellona glared at him, arms crossed over her chest.

He bit his lip, trying to ignore the sounds of battle outside the tent as the skirmishes began to die down.

He sighed.

"Because she found out I was planning to… you know."

"Kill yourself," Abellona said coolly.

She scoffed.

"You'd better figure it out. I'm not getting involved."

Damon shook his head.

"Fine. I'll talk to Lilith. But for now, I should tell you where I need you next. Leave the ground assault to Xander and Emilia Highgon."

He glanced at her neck, slightly bruised and red.

"Xander is a tank. Maybe the best we have. As long as he's in front, we can minimize casualties. He won't die easily."

She crossed her arms.

"Let me guess. You want me to lead an aerial assault the moment the second defensive line goes down."

He nodded.

She rubbed her temples and sighed.

"Never thought I'd fight side by side with demons. The world really knows how to throw curveballs. Fine."

Damon nodded and turned to leave.

Now he had to find Lilith Astranova.

He spread his shadow perception, and after a few minutes, found her inside a tent helping an injured person while Sylvia healed him.

He teleported outside the tent and waited until they finished. During that time, he watched the distant clash of gods in the sky, where Seraph Null battled Lazarak.

Both gods avoided the battlefield below. Either of them could wipe everyone out if they intervened directly.

Though the occasional feather falling from Seraph Null still caused devastating damage.

The tent flap opened, and Lilith stepped out carrying a bucket of water stained with bloody rags.

Even with blood thick in the air, the scent of gardenia still clung to her.

When she saw Damon standing nearby, she paused for a moment, then walked past him with an impassive expression.

Damon sighed and followed her.

She did not speak until he did.

"Can you stop ignoring me?"

She shook her head.

"I'm not ignoring you. You just didn't say anything. I figured whatever brought you here wasn't important."

Damon sighed, feeling awkward. She was not wrong.

"So… you're mad at me, right?"

She stopped, her gaze cold.

"Why would I be mad? It's your life. I have no say in how you end it."

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ahh… I just wanted to ask you…"

"I'll do it," she replied before he finished.

"I didn't even tell you what I wanted."

She paused and lowered her head.

"You didn't need to."

She turned to face him.

"I'll help break the barrier. That's what you want, right?"

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