The faceless man with his hands on the back began laughing, "I respect your decision for accepting death. Rejoice, as your demise is a stepping stone towards the plan Lord Ophuthis wants this world to witness," the Orcs who previously knelt and face against the ground, stood up and prepared each of their weapons.

Elva rose first on the furthest left; Rio followed her, as well as the two others. They glanced to the faceless' left, only to see that the Dark Father who sits and the woman who stands, now gone.

"Such brave warriors. Stances of honorable people, not barbaric, not reckless. A team who understands the synergy between each other. All ready to face the inevitable."

"Where's the Dark Father?" Elva asked.

"Lord Ophuthis does not want to waste time on a battle vulgar to his eyes. However, don't you worry, for I shall kill you all swiftly.

"Enough chatter, let's begin," Rio angled his steps.

"As you wish."

Rio came first; he took a few steps to reach the monster as the distance between them is almost the least thing to worry.

He's not moving? Well, I guess I'll take your opening.
He prepared the magical mace of which he holds to strike the enemy from its head down.

However, just as the mace is about to hit, Vestus stopped the weapon then held the neck of Rio and snapped it. Rio fell to the floor like a fly. He's dead.

He died the most useless way possible. His corpse strangled before it was dropped to rot. The mace he takes pride the most, lost its glow, along with its master.

"Those who understand the mercy of Lord Ophuthis shall die painlessly. I wish you but a good rest," Vestus looked at the others. "Now, who else?"

Inaudible shock us their answer. They who gasped and felt consternated, drops liquids from their eyes, especially the dead man's wife.

An access of rage fulminated unto Rei's heart and is the second to sprint to reach the servant of the devil. Though he was scared, shaking even, his anger was much more dominant.

"Wait, Rei we must work together, or else we truly can't defeat him!" Elva shouted but Rei did not pay heed. His extreme ire made him fight without focus.

They all knew that as much fighting they do, without teamwork, they cannot defeat the monster named "Vestus."

Even if working together can bring even a little hope, it is still a chance valuable to them who aspires victory.
Rei's movement is similar that of his brother's in that he plans to hit from top, cleaving the enemy's head open.

As the sound of his bare feet hit the ground, the hard sand-like soil responded. "That attack again? Learn some more variability," Vestus insulted.

Vestus tried to reach the man with apace movements, but Rei is fast enough to bluff his own movements and stopped his tracks while swinging his sword to the side of Vestus.

He ducked to escape the hands of the enemy. Just moments after, his glaive successfully injured the left side of the man without a face.

Faces filled with distress, almost screamed with blithe as their companion temporarily avenged his dead brother. But a child of the Dark Father never falls down without claiming the head of their enemy with him. There is something wrong, no blood can be found both on neither the blade nor Vestus' clothing.

The smiles present evanescent, turned to worries.

As how Rei "fooled" Vestus, he too deceived them, "Stupid of you to think that such amateur hit can injure my lord-given body? I am not as fragile as your brother," Vestus was hit, but not life threatening in the slightest.

"My turn!" Vestus grunted. His hands immediately grew sharp claws. He placed his left foot at the back, while his right foot at the front, preparing to run. He bolted instantly into Rei's direction.

The devil vamoosed unimaginably fast it felt like he teleported. His right claw swiped across Rei's face. His face now severely wounded, followed by blood. His blood escaped violently; the one who opened the Orc's imbrued his whole hand.

The damage is so severe that his left eyeball started to fall. Little guts flew out of his poor face.

"You didn't even block it? You're a terrible, failure man. You should be ashamed you call yourself a 'warrior.'"

Like all of the Dark Father's underlings, Vestus is no different in that he is merciless and Proceeded to swipe again but this time using his left claw. Thankfully, with what remained in Rei's might, stopped the claw with his blade. Reimon backed off after he protected himself.
The two finally joined to help. Bon went to the right, while the fully-armored Elva went the other direction despite her endless cries.

She pulled the strings of her bow and the arrow became fulgent, a sign of a possible spell activation.

Without any knowledge of the spell's lethality, Vestus reached before the woman could activate anything.
Vestus' hands extended like slime, with claws still attached.

While the enemy is preoccupied, Bon darted his way to reach the faceless' exposed injured side. He pulled his second axe, and threw the other. The weapon came flying to the enemy's head, but the enemy retracted its claws whilst it grabbed the axe that almost cracked his skull.

Rei had his hands on his face since he got scraped brutally. But as he felt the courage of his fellow friends, he ignored the pain that hurt like hell.

As he sees Bon sprinting, he did the same thing. He hastened his speed and equipped himself the mace of his brother along the way.

With a lot already in his plate, Vestus kicked the Orc with the mace away, making him tumble across the dead-filled dell.

He used the axe the other man threw, spun it around and used the same weapon to use as a shield against the thrower's hit to Vestus' left leg. The iron weapons abraded each other.

While Bon is kneeling, Vestus used this chance to cut off the Orc's right arm from the shoulders, but the hardness of the Demihuman's scale-like skin, made it impossible.

Because of the immense, concentrated pain, Bon made a guttural sound of despair, making him take a few steps back.

As for the woman, her fate is not as well as the other two.

The claws of the overly extended arm poked through the eyes of the Demihuman woman. The sound of splashing from her exposed brain can be heard as it fell from the hole Vestus made from his impalement on both of her eyes.

Because of how fast he killed her, she is still alive. The agonizing, excruciating pain she felt made her scream and wish her demise, "J-just kill me! Dear G-Gods!"

However, Vestus—no matter how composed he may be—can never be so merciful as to make her rest just yet. He let the pain sit on her head until she died.

The blood showered everywhere; it can be both smelled and heard, like water running. Vestus pulled his claws out of the woman. From her nose above, is gone and pulverized to ashes.

"Pathetic. You could've at least resisted. How weak can you be? I had high hopes for you all when I found out that you're stronger than a Human. Turns out you all are just weak, feeble, fragile and impuissant as Humans. Maybe even worse?"

"Elva!" he rattled his voice.

Rei looked at Vestus with murderous eyes, gritted his teeth.

"Hm? I say you mustn't blame me for your feebleness. Blame the Gods, if they even exist, for they blessed you unfairly," Vestus laughed once more.

As Vestus already made two people meet their creators, Rei knew that all hope is lost, and there is no ever aspiration for a better tomorrow.

Rei is nearly at his limit, the pain on his face didn't help. It hindered his eyesight, one completely taken out while his right eye is filled with blood.

The two warriors surrounded the faceless devil. Bon pulled the axe stuck to his shoulder before he aimed to use his axe to cleave the head of the devil.

He swiped once, missed. He swiped the second time, was blocked. His predictable motion continued, swipe left, swipe right. While Vestus was standing still blocking his swings with little effort.

"You're losing strength, I feel? Well, all must come to an end, and it seems your time is nigh."

Vestus stole Bon's weapon and threw it away, he grabbed the head of the weaponless Demihuman and crushed its head with just his hands. Similar to the state of Elva, Bon died without most of its head.
While Vestus was busy, Rei planned to attack from behind. He swung his mace in hopes to deal blunt damage on the neck of the enemy. Vestus' neck turned a hundred and eighty degrees, so did his arms, and stopped the incoming attack.

"What?!"

He was blocked. Rei landed back on his feet and attempted to hit Vestus once again.

Despite the distance, Rei pointed his weapon to Vestus, and three of the many spikes that is attached within, is pulled out and floated at great speeds to Vestus' way.

Treating those floating things merely as flies, he tried to flick them off, but Vestus is surprised to know that those hovering materials are harmful. Dodging barely, the spikes impaled his arm, shredding it to pieces.

Rei activated Martial Arts, a power to increase agility. Vestus returned his head and arms to where it usually is. It is just him and Vestus, his fate decides here now.

"I feel nothing but pity. You may not believe it, but I myself am a kind man."

His arm grew back as normal.

"I have no time for jests. Also, you seem to have a lot of surprises."

"You consider my honesty lies? I'm serious, if not for Lord Ophuthis' orders, I could've spared you."

The wounded-faced Orc got back on his stance.

"Well, don't you worry; your tribe will be safe under his care. Consider your death a sacrifice to achieve peace. A great title for a Hero, don't you think?" Vestus fleered impudently.

Rei did the same boring attack.

Vestus swiped down but missed the agile Rei. The sequence happened again but on the right side, same results, missed again.

Vestus swiped left to right to which Rei blocked. With a little Martial Arts his side, his celerity truly has increased significantly. As the weight of the devil pushed Rei to the ground, his mace almost snapped. Thankfully, he managed to get out of the pressure.

"I have thoroughly enjoyed this grand fight of ours, but death is cruel and always awaits any whom he picks up. He must be angry for a person like me who speeds things up for him to do work. I shall remember the names of the mightiest brothers, Rei and Rio!" Vestus' hand flew towards Rei's face.

Rei attempted to block with his hands, but the might of Vestus' Punch was much stronger. It went through his hand and to his face like water. His already wounded face exploded into bits.

He laid along with the rest. A very gruesome sight indeed. As the blood bestrews out, Vestus' elegant suit is horribly stained, not only that, but the foul smell of the inner guts is also there.

He produced a towel to which Vestus cleaned his hands. He turned his nonexistent eyes to the village in which a terrible wall is present.

He walked towards the tribe as he further cleanses his suit. The white army made way once again. After them, passed through the piles of bodies with mephitic smell.

He opened the door attached to the wall. He went in and saw thousands of Demihumans weeping in hopelessness and anguish.

As he approached them, the scared Orcs began moving. Scared that they may be next to die, bodies of their finest warriors were displayed, laying, dead.

His figure grew larger, the army standing behind Vestus can be heard advancing, while the dark clouds began rumbling. They exist in an unsalvageable nightmare. A nightmare unfolding before their eyes.

What could they have possibly done to deserve this? Are they really a pain of this world that even the Devil wishes to exterminate their race?

Right as Vestus walks, a cloud of dark smoke appeared next to him. It took some time before someone appeared next to him. A woman they saw with him earlier, Orroite Ridorio.

They both walked, slowly to feel the glory they have ultimately achieved. The Orcs began panicking, their tribe started to hide their children inside houses. They can't escape. They are surrounded by an army, a very large one. All they can do is sit inside their village. The tribe is in chaos, with no one to command them, they are out of control. The chief is dead. So is the second in command, Rei. Gone. It might really be the end of the Orcan tribes.

"Fret not but Rejoice Demihumans of the East! Do so otherwise and you will be exiled. Starting today onwards and unto the everlasting future. The five Demihuman tribes of the Mowma Valley, North of Waihn, Jjsha, Usha, Kursha, Iisha and Qsha, has finally been united after one hundred and fifty years of suffering.

"The one who showed his mercy is none other than Lord Ophuthis, the Demigod in which you all call as the heavenly and divine Dark Father. Honor and treasure this knowledge to your deaths, as you have witnessed and known the power, the will and the name of the one above all. Work alongside us and you shall experience never ending peace!" none rejoiced as he said so, in fact it was otherwise. Silence.

  It has been four days since the proclamation of war of the devil and his Demihuman army in the North wall of the Swargon Empire. Specifically, in Sarr kingdom, on a state called Azew.

The announcement rumbled the very core of the Empire, making them wary of how big the attack might be. Now almost all of the forces in the capital of the Swargon Empire were sent to Sarr Kingdom in order to brace themselves from the incoming attack that will supposedly happen tomorrow.

At a military standpoint, this is not the best move. It is common knowledge that devils are deceitful, so they may lie and actually attack the Swargon Empire instead.

But the emperor placed his trust to the devil's words while most senators opposed the emperor's orders. Somehow, the senators persuaded the emperor to still leave some guards stationed at the walls. Though the guards stationed there was nowhere near the number of forces originally guarding the place.

Lennard Rooney, along with many of the Empire's most powerful captains is stationed at the North wall of Sarr Kingdom. Many of the people were already evacuated and rations and supplies are all ready and are prepared for battle. The requested aid from the Holy order is yet to arrive.

However, many believes the reason why the Holy order hasn't arrived yet, is the distance of the Empire to the Oligarchy. The Oligarchy is located in the far southwest and if the envoy were to reach the Oligarchy, they still need to travel back to the Empire, making their journey take a while.

Nevertheless, even if that may be the case, Lennard still doesn't put too much hope in the aid. After all, the
Seeh-an Oligarchic Theocracy doesn't really have a good relationship with a lot of other races.

"Hm~" Lennard sighed profusely with mouth closed. To Lennard's full honesty, he's exhausted and the thought of a war occurring as early as tomorrow is frightening.

But for his country, he needs to be strong in order to protect innocent people and save them from dying. His sigh is also triggered due to the knowledge of a final meeting that will take place in the council hall. Lennard isn't really a fan of meetings since it's boring, but he needs to bear with it, if his country wants to be the victor.

He entered the relatively small room in the biggest palace in Sarr, and only third in the entire Empire.

The place is filled with very powerful individuals, some in politics but some literally. There are seven captains not including Lennard, the Marshal, and some Senators.

No one sat, all gathered around this table which is stacked full of maps and papers. Due to everyone's hectic schedule, no one welcomed his presence, but the highest in the room, "Captain Lennard. Welcome," the Marshal greeted the man wearing a white tunic jacket, brown trousers and boots of the same color.

"Shall we begin?" the Marshal twisted his neck to face the men that gathered.

"Yes," most recited.

The blonde, long haired, young Elf in a brown cloak, head of the Imperial Army opened the scroll in which he held this whole time, rolled it over and laid it on the table, it unveiled the map of Sarr.

"As you all know, each of you captains has their own battalions, I have stationed you all on specific points on the North wall of Sarr Kingdom.

"The purpose of this plan is to successfully hold out and stretch the time of this battle. Our total force guarding the wall is two hundred and eighty thousand soldiers split between eight of you captains. Four battalions on the wall itself," he pointed at the border of Sarr up North. "And the four others act as the second line of the defense if they manage to get through," he then pointed farther down.

The soldiers of the Swargon Empire originally were not similar that of Ælhelmia's or the Holy Realm's, in that their recruitment of soldiers is forced and all men capable are enlisted automatically. Before, the Empire had-picks their men, and trains them extensively for more than seven months.

In a way, they followed the Oligarchy's training of soldiers. Carefully picking only those who deserve to be a member of the force; elite members who not only prides high honor, but is also exposed to many privileges along their journey.

But due to the Empire's slowly dying economy, and competitors slowly catching up to their previously superior power, the Empire followed the Central Region's way of handling soldiers.

"Why do we need to stretch the time of the battle? Does waiting increase our chances of winning?" a Captain named Fred, designated to the first defense, asked.

The Marshal looked at Fred, a Captain so care-free his hands are crossed, "We need to hold out until help arrives, the first help being the Holy order. However, because there is the possibility of them not answering our calls, we are preparing to send envoys to different countries. But we won't send them out just yet, unless we know if the Holy order's power is enough."

"Then Marshal Woods, what will we do if we failed even with the Holy order's power?" another spoke.

"If we fail to defend Sarr kingdom, we have no choice but to follow that demonic being. With all of our soldiers deployed here at Sarr, all two hundred and eighty thousand, we don't have enough capable men to fight back the second round.

"If they're merciful enough, they'll govern the Swarven Empire without unnecessary homicidal acts," he pulled a paper from his pockets and read, "According to what the demon said four days ago, they will destroy the Sarr kingdom to make an example and then they will visit His Highness to confirm if we've changed our minds and work alongside them. Assuming that deceitful bastard follows his word, then we might just have to work with him without deaths," he tossed the paper on the table with the papers.

"Isn't that a little optimistic?"

"I know, but I am a person who will willingly believe in false hope than the sour reality."

Lennard remembered what the demon said and part of him just want to be a vassal of the Demons—if of course the demon will fulfill his promise and that they won't be slaves, which to him, is honestly very unlikely.

"If we win, though if I'm going to be honest, it is a very low chance of happening but if we do, our crisis won't end there. The news will definitely reach the neighboring countries and it's only a matter of time before they storm us, since they know our forces have dried out. Either path we take, win or lose, we are brought to hell," the Marshal only made their frowns more noticeable.

"Then why don't we just become a vassal if that's the best choice?" said a senator from the Sarr committee, Erwin, without hesitation.

"Excuse me? Do you know what the hell is coming out of your mouth?"

"Unfortunately, Senator Erwin has a point; we are cornered by that demon. No matter the outcome, we lose. The most probable and attractive ending is for us to side with him. It's like he calculated all of this. His wisdom is too much to be entrusted to an evil being," another of the same position as Erwin added.

"Don't you speak so cowardly when you are not the ones going in that battlefield to die."

"With how you're speaking, I could demote your position with my simple words to the emperor, you know that?" Erwin threatened the man.

"People like you who lavishes shall be the first to die, instead of helpless poor people down there," he aspersed the typical dives of a politician.

"Senator Erwin, Marshal, enough. Today is supposed to be the day we plan for our victory. If we continue to be like little children, you're just asking to be a slave of the demon lord," said yet another senator. The Marshal pulled his torso back and breathed to calm down.

"Anyway, does someone know what our fate will be if we lost?" Lennard asked. His question makes it very confusing where he sides, Erwin or Woods?

"The Empire is the first target of the Dark Father since his 200 years of sleep. We have no records to verify if he treats his allies or underlings fairly. Unless that demon is willing to abide his promise, we're safe. But it's his decisiveness that worries me. Which is solely the reason why when we do become their vassal, I have a plan."

"Let's hear it," said Lennard.

"A simple one: we will secretly move out children and women, so that when we're turned to slaves, they can at the very least escape, thus preventing their suffering."

"Let's think the unlikelihood, what if the demon follows his words?" a captain in thick blue armor asked.

The gazes of the other senators, the Marshal and the captains excluding Lennard, looked at the captain with disbelief.

"I mean, we say all the time that he will deceive us, but what if he actually follows his words? That could be an outcome?" the same captain strengthened his statement.

The unfazed Lennard pondered his words and made him look down. The others however, "Then we're safe! Forever!" said the Marshal sarcastically.

"With all due respect, Marshal Henry, the island of East GaCotta is a peaceful place that is ruled by the Dark Father. What is the possibility that he might plan the same prosperity here?"

"Captain Walter has a point," Lennard backed a colleague.

"Whatever his lenity, whether he follows his promise or not, we will not follow his rule without a fight. The only way we can escape, is to show the demon the power of the Swargon Elven Empire," the Marshal spoke in a joyous tone. The other captains nodded and smiled, thinking there's hope.

If another person in this room said that, Lennard would have sighed and palmed his face sooner.

Bullshit. This is nothing but a death parade, he thought exasperatingly.

  With five days of well spent preparations, training and waiting, the day of the war is finally upon them.

It is still early in the morning; the soldiers were all ready and are prepared to face the deadly war. Lennard is placed at the front lines and 35,000 experienced men are all under his command. Which is a lot for one captain to handle alone. But he planned ahead and assigned three other vice captains for him to easily order.

His plan is to divide his army into three groups, commanded by his three vice captains. He plans to rotate each group when the first band gets exhausted or suffers heavy losses, he does not want to send all 35,000 immediately to the front lines.

By doing this, it makes his battalion hold on by themselves as long as possible which is what the main plan the Marshal wants to achieve.

It is also the day of the war and yet no Holy order can be seen. As each day passes, the more the Elves feel deprived and the more they ceased to put hope on their help.

Lennard climbed up the wall, and oversaw the number of deaths that will unfold. It is not as though he has little faith in the soldiers beneath him, but it is simply that the enemy is too great to fathom. Their sheer size is not something one can feel care-free. And as a person who saw them face to face, he knows more than anyone in this place that the war upcoming is much supreme than any other they have fought.

He also felt a sense of déjà vu, as just very recently, they have also been this busy.

Just minutes after Lennard ascended atop the wall, the awaited has arrived. Much like before, their commander is hidden amongst the outrageous amounts of flesh that have gathered.

"Is that them? Captain, is that the Orcs the Dark Father subdued?" Lennard's vice-captain asked as the soldiers bravely stood their ground and gulped instead of cowardly fleeing.

The army of the enemy are more than just Demihumans however, there are more types behind them.

Lennard estimated in his head that the number of the foremost layer of the incoming, are 90,000 Demihumans, they spread wider than clumped. Behind them are more elite soldiers in white armor, numbering 159,000.

Lennard does not have any knowledge how different the elites are to the Orcs, but there is a distinction between them. Although both groups have armor, it is very clear that the elites at the back have more extravagant suits, coruscating to the point where it is mesmerizing. Most of those are on horsebacks as well, and carry banners of presumably the devil's.

What the Orcs had are leftover armor and armaments. The rest are giants with four legs. Very ugly-looking and carry large baskets filled with rocks.

Even though they number about 250,000, realistically speaking, it probably will go even higher to 300,000 because of the might of those giants alone contribute large power. Compared to the puny front-line defense of 140,000, they almost stood no chance.

The second line of defense is a bit far away from the front lines. If they break through them, they will need to storm three to five smaller villages before they could reach the capital of the rural Sarr.

"Most likely. Don't worry about other things, prepare your group move apace," Lennard said to his vice-captain.

"Yes sir."

Lennard looked at the sad empyrean, and felt as if the heavens itself felt dolour to their saddening predicament.

As he held his bow tightly, and braced the enemy, the enemy 1,000-plus giants reached at their back where a sack of boulders are placed, they all took one and they prepare to throw at them at the walls so that the Demihumans can infiltrate the inside.

The boulder came flying towards the defenseless wall.

Once Lennard espied this along with many others, Lennard's eyes widened and immediately shouted, "Take cover!"