Volume 2 chapter 40
When Clyris returned to the fortress and faced Kane’s expectant gaze, she could only deliver the crushing truth: Eleanor had sacrificed herself.
Hearing the cruel news, Kane swayed slightly, his eyes glazing over for a moment before he lowered his head in desolate silence.
"How many troops remain in the fortress?" Clyris asked softly, unable to bear looking at his grief but needing to know the strategic situation.
"Just over 910,000... Your Majesty," Kane replied weakly. "Of those, only a little over a thousand Shock Troopers are combat-ready. Another two thousand are heavily wounded and still healing. Eight Large Fortress Guns and twenty-eight Wall Guns are intact. Ammunition reserves average 1,200 rounds per gun."
The situation is not optimistic... Clyris thought grimly. She left the Mana Pool and headed for the command center.
"Get me Rowling!" Picking up the communicator, Clyris dialed the rear Air Command Center.
"Your Majesty?! What can I do for you?"
A moment later, Rowling's surprised voice crackled over the line.
"I have taken command of Talisk Fortress. I need a status report on the airfield repairs immediately!" Clyris cut straight to the chase.
"Yes! All six airfields have been repaired! However, we cannot replenish the lost aircraft immediately! Your Majesty, could you request more from the rear?" Rowling reported, adding a plea at the end.
"No... The situation at Abbys Fortress is critical as well. Their quota of aircraft cannot be reduced, or they might fall. Talisk has the Prague River to stall the enemy; Abbys has nothing!" Clyris rubbed her temples, sighing.
"Then... can we ask the rear to increase production?" Rowling begged.
"That... is also impossible. The rear has reached its limit!" Clyris sighed again, rejecting her.
The Demon Realm was currently producing landmines, three types of artillery, bombers, fighters, mana stones, armor, and anti-aircraft guns. Production capacity was maxed out.
Nine million demons were working over sixteen hours a day. They only had five or six hours of actual rest. Increasing working hours any further would break them, even for a supernatural race.
Although no demons had died from exhaustion yet, many had collapsed. Clyris didn't want to win the war only to find that more demons had died from overwork than in battle.
"Ugh... I see..." Rowling sighed heavily. "Then I only have 1,235 aircraft available. Of those, only 541 are bombers. I can provide limited air cover, but I can no longer conduct carpet bombing runs on large Alliance formations!"
"That is enough! I don't intend to attack, only defend. Besides, the Prague River is blocking them for now. It will take them a week to plug the breach at the Old Mountains, and then they'll face a swamp of mud. It will be at least half a month before they can launch another major offensive," Clyris comforted her.
"Then, what are your orders?" Rowling asked.
"Maintain reconnaissance on the Alliance. Report their latest movements to me immediately!"
"Understood! If it's just recon, there's no problem!" Rowling said, her voice brightening slightly.
"Don't get cocky. You must maintain surveillance within five hundred kilometers of the fortress! Do you understand?!" Clyris scolded gently.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Rowling dropped the smile and answered seriously.
After ending the call, Clyris studied the map and summoned the Wall Commander Derman and Kane.
Derman was a Fifth-Rank Rock Demon, towering and solid, looking like a walking boulder.
"Your Majesty, what are your orders?"
"Derman, dig trenches in front of the fortress according to these specifications! Construct fortifications and lay minefields!" She handed him a stack of blueprints.
"Yes!" The honest Rock Demon took the documents and bowed.
"Kane, you are responsible for constructing the gun towers. I will have all the new Fortress Guns and Wall Guns produced in the rear sent here! You must ensure all turrets are installed properly. The defense of the fortress depends on it!"
"Yes! But regarding the three commanders..." Kane responded, then looked up at Clyris.
"Don't worry about that. I will transfer them to the rear for advanced treatment!" she explained.
"Then I have no concerns! Thank you, Your Majesty!" Kane bowed again.
Later, Clyris took the three wounded commanders to the rear airfield and ordered a modified bomber to transport them back to the City of Darkness.
Before she left, Rowling stopped her.
"Your Majesty... Can... can we really win?" Rowling asked fearfully, her head lowered, afraid to look Clyris in the eye.
"Are you wavering too?" Clyris looked at her timid appearance, feeling a pang of disappointment but also understanding. It had been over two months, and the Alliance still held the advantage.
The demons were just defending their cities, yet they had exhausted every trick in the book.
Just looking at the defense of Talisk: they had gone so far as to divert a river, yet the Alliance's true casualties were only a little over a hundred thousand. The Southern Army Group still had a million soldiers gathering!
Meanwhile, the demons defending the fortress had already lost over 300,000.
Two-to-one casualties, just to barely hold the walls. Looking at such results, anyone would waver.
"Ah!? I didn't mean to question Your Majesty! I just... I just... just..." Rowling suddenly realized what she had said and panicked, trying to explain.
"It's fine! Rowling!" Clyris interrupted her. "Seeing such casualties for such limited results... anyone would waver. It's not strange! Even I have felt despair!"
"Ah!? Your Majesty..." Rowling looked at her in surprise, then lowered her head, her voice pained. "Just now, I looked at Luna and the others... Luna is mangled like that... even Eleanor sacrificed herself... and all for what? To pause the Alliance offensive for half a month?!"
"Yes. But that is the best result we could hope for! Half a month is enough time to build new gun towers and replenish our lost aircraft! We can turn this fortress into an unbreakable shell!" Clyris patted her shoulder firmly.
"Ah, right! We have time..." Rowling wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She looked at Clyris and asked blankly, "You will lead us to victory... right?"
Though phrased as a question, it sounded like a desperate affirmation. Her tone lacked certainty; she was begging Clyris for confidence. It was a look of intense, fragile dependence.
Seeing her like this, Clyris realized profoundly: She was now the last hope in the hearts of every demon.
Forests of giant cannons couldn't hide the massive casualties. Skies filled with warplanes couldn't bring them confidence.
Turrets could be destroyed. Planes could be shot down. Only she—the Demon Lord—was their final pillar.
Clyris felt a crushing weight settle in her heart, blocking her throat, making it hard to speak.
But can I really defeat the Alliance alone?
One-on-three? Easy.
One-on-five? Doable.
But the Alliance had dozens of Ninth-Rankers. One-on-twenty? One-on-thirty? How could she fight that? Even if she tried to pick them off one by one, every major Alliance legion was led by multiple Ninth-Rankers—at least four or five! They almost never operated alone.
Once she was pinned down, nearby Ninth-Rankers would swarm like sharks smelling blood.
In that scenario, Clyris didn't even know how she would survive, let alone win.
But looking at Rowling, looking at that hopeful face, she couldn't say no.
"Ah... we will..."
Struggling to open her mouth, her lips feeling as heavy as lead, Clyris spoke words she wasn't even sure of herself.
"We will win... We will win..."
Finally, she turned and walked away, her steps stumbling slightly under the invisible weight.
Comments (1)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.