Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 391: For Territory and Tomorrow

Colossal balors and eldjötnars cast long shadows on Atlantis’ central disk, but even they seemed tiny compared to the division of twenty minotaurs. Demons, humans, and elves alike shared the same thought.

They were muscular abominations, grotesque creatures covered in pulsing veins resembling beasts on their own. Curved horns extended over their oxen’s heads like natural spears. With the giant clubs and axes strapped on their backs and the heavy plates of enchanted metal protecting them, they didn’t look like creatures of flesh anymore. Instead, most saw them as incarnations of pure violence.

Most ogled them and shuddered in a mix of horror and awe, hoping never to cross them on a battlefield. Others sighed, relieved to fight on the same side.

Beside them, heavily armored knights mounted on bird-headed creatures stood valiantly behind their leader. They exuded a sense of unbound pride amplified by the hippogriffs’ forelegs ending in sharp talons, horse hind legs, and eagle’s wings.

Gawain stood before them. His blue eyes sharp, his white armor sparkling under the morning sun, and his hand gripping Galatin’s hilt. His mere heroic presence caused many battalions to steal envious glances to his flying cavalry. As it should be.

Each individual composing it, no matter their species, was a model of discipline and honor shaped by his hands.

Not everyone felt envious, though, especially not the six trouble makers. Their green hairs ruffled with the morning breeze as they stood cross-armed before divisions of bulky balors and djinn sultans crackling like barely contained elemental storms. But they palled behind their leaders.

During this year, they had become more handsome, more dignified, more powerful. They evolved into arch demons—the pinnacle of demonic species, or not quite. The dark rings Adam had offered them still sparkled a somber hue on their fingers, meaning they hadn’t reached the end of their paths. Not that it mattered to any of them at the moment.

Their forces would invade Oberon’s capital at a moment’s notice. They could hear the quick breaths of their soldiers, the soft noise of their fingers tightening around their weapons, but not any sound of legs trembling in their greaves. They would win. For the territory, for their lord, for a brighter future.

Thinking about the lord, they saw him emerge from the castle with Garduck, Shihan, and Mimi.

Instantly, loud clamors spread through the ocean of soldiers. They struck spears on the ground and swords on intricate round shields in a cacophony of clangors and rumbling ground before the central disk grew silent at a single gesture of Garduck.

Adam nodded at the discipline. The army had come a long way and was powerful enough to conquer most mortal realms without him. But against gods?

His eyes drifted to Shihan and Garduck, memories of his plan from eleven years ago resurfacing. A small team of powerful world boss-like demons. That’s the only way he could hope to fight the other divine pantheons.

In those conflicts, mortals would be mere ants crushed under the gods’ inadvertent steps. Even in this war, the army would secure the capital but never engage Oberon or Titania. That would be his, Mab, Mordred, and Garduck’s jobs.

But the capital wouldn’t be easy to take either. A dense barrier enveloped it, magical traps covered the ground, and defensive mechanisms as threatening as Atlantis’ towers protected the walls.

He glanced at the rows of ballistas lined behind the proud Amazon army, sighing. They would need Michael’s weaponry.

"Where is that fool?"

Mimi bit on her twisted lip. "Now that things got serious, did he... bail on us?" Her face grew somber. "Humph. That coward probably doesn’t want to risk his troops. Let me ask him one last time."

As she moved her hand to her lord chat box, Adam shook his head. His eyes narrowed into slits, his icy voice freezing her fingers.

"He knows when the siege begins and knows the consequences of betraying me even more. Ascending won’t help him, nor switching sides. Forget about him. He’s a dead man from this moment."

Mimi’s expression worsened. Though she doubted Michael, the judgment came too quickly. Perhaps he was stuck in his last preparations, or something happened to him?

In any case, she didn’t like to hear her big brother pronounce death sentences so casually. He would have never done that in the past. Quite the opposite, he would have searched for excuses to justify Michael’s absence until undeniable guilt was proven.

She hesitated, her hand reaching toward his sleeve. But she curled her fingers into a trembling fist. War loomed, and her concerns would distract them.

"Show up soon, fool." She muttered, hoping Michael would prove them wrong.

Then, she gazed at Adam as he stepped forward.

"Merlin!" He called out, his voice echoing a deceptive calmness hiding a burning desire to slaughter their enemies. "We depart!"

The white-haired youth’s blue cape fluttered as he left Gawain’s side and stepped before Adam.

His wooden staff, carved from the heart of Yggdrasil, drew circles in the air, permeating the disk with a fresh scent of moist timber. The enchantments snaking on its surface pulsed in bright symbols, and mana hummed a song of recognition. Under its influence, space swirled into hulking portals before each army battalion.

On the other side, the lush flora of the fairy woods met Adam’s eyes as he raised his god slayer and thundered.

"Never break formation! Heed the commands at all times! Conquer this realm to make it our haven in a world oppressed by the tyranny of gods like Oberon." He pointed his blade to the portals. "March, for we’ll feast in victory tomorrow!"

Soldiers and generals roared, excitement spreading among the ranks. Yet, they remained organised. The sole of their boots and the clangor of their greaves rocked the sky in a coordinated symphony. The next moment, they disappeared on the other side, ready to rain blood—ready to claim peace.

Adam watched until the last battalion crossed the portals before he followed.

Before he could, however, a screeching noise forced his surprised gaze up. There, in the middle of the bright sky, a pink portal formed.

He narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t part of the plan... But he recognised that dream-like essence—Mab’s essence. ’What is she planning?’

As if to answer his thoughts, shadows blanketed Atlantis, plunging it into darkness. Blaring engines roared, the air trembled, and his eyes widened.

"Hahaha! I hope I’m not late. I got a few problems with..." Michael’s voice cut through the air, pausing midway. "Anyway! A gentleman never comes late nor early; he’s right on time, right?"

Adam heard the words, but they didn’t register. How could they when his jaw hung open and his mind grappled with the ridiculous sight?

"A flying island?!"

"A flying bastion!" Michael’s voice dripped with pride and cockiness. "Hop on. I’ll show you what this bad boy can do and how my cannons will raze these fairies."

Adam took a deep breath that did nothing to calm his racing heart. Then, he gave up, grinned, and soared to the bastion. He passed by thousands of cannons embedded into the bastion’s rocky bottom.

A magic circle composed of bright patterns spun where the rocks faded into fresh grass, ensuring the structure hovered in the sky. And beyond the grass, he saw farmlands, rivers, and trees surrounding a small city that made him gasp.

Each building breathed mana like a living beast, their design sleek and futuristic. In the center, the grand palace towered almost as impressive as his own.