Demon Lord Leon Cromwell, the sole sovereign of El Dorado, sat upon his throne-like chair, surrounded by personal guards clad in color-coded plate armors, awaiting the arrival of his incoming guests.
El Dorado was the only settlement on the southern continent which safely housed over a million denizens behind its barriers. Most were humans whose ancestors had sought out the Demon Lord's protection and now lived under his rather fair rule, and many were majins who had either migrated over the millennia for a majin-ruled nation or mutated from the ambient magicules.
Since the main economic trade of the city-state was the mining and exportation of precious metals, buildings were decorated in the same materials they exported en masse - precious gold and platinum. It gave the city a permanent shine and lived up to its otherworldly mythological namesake, even sustaining what little it could from seafood despite dangerous waters surrounding the island.
There was a rather simple yet practical reason why Leon hadn't claimed the entire continent and let his subjects settle outside the city walls, save for isolated, highly protected, farming areas far away from the main city. Near the capital was an active hellgate and demons periodically manifested from within to wreak havoc.
This made surviving outside his maintained barriers dangerous at best, lethal at worst, since even a lesser demon could kill dozens before knights and guards arrived at the scene. Thus, public support for expansion was iffy at best, and those who had previously advocated for expansion quickly found themselves an audience with their ruler.
Worst of all was the yellow primordial, who had made the gate her home centuries ago and periodically blasted nuclear magic toward the city for her own sick amusement. The only reason El Dorado had survived thus far was the protective barrier over the entire city he had painstakingly crafted over the decades, empowered by his Ultimate Skill Metatron, Lord of Purity, to defend his people. The two combined spelled doom for anyone who left his hallowed halls, assuming they didn't perish from magicule poisoning first.
In the past, Leon had challenged the primordial demon and had even defeated the unreasonable demoness to send her back to hell, but she just kept reappearing again and again, forcing Leon to take a defensive stance as the years went by, and for the most part, ignore her antics.
His nation was an isolated one, with one of their only allies and trade partners being Sarion, who imported high amounts of raw materials that El Dorado provided in huge quantities, in return offering large amounts of processed goods and dried foods from the human nations.
Leon held little interest in the dealings of his fellow Demon Lords, only truly interacting with most of them during Walpurgis or on the rare visitations by Demon Lord Guy thanks to their incredible distance from his own. They shared a rather cold, one-sided friendship. The original Demon Lord for whatever reason was smitten with him, even going so far as offering to reshape himself into a woman with looks fitting all of Leon's desires.
This rather strange relationship was the reason why Guy's lover, Velzard the Ice Dragon, hated his guts, even if Leon had done nothing to reciprocate Guy's advances throughout his entire life. At best of times, he and the dragon exchanged polite greetings, but Velzard mostly utilized every opportunity she had to jab at him, being held back only by Guy's repeated reassurances. If not for Guy, the godlike individual would freeze his entire nation with ease, but if not for Guy, he wouldn't have the draconic problem to deal with in the first place.
Today he was dressed in formal clothing, awaiting guests from faraway lands on the other continent. They were his personal trade partners and, in exchange for nearly extortionate amounts of money, secretly employed entire armies of human mages who were tasked with doing near-constant summonings of otherworlders. On the surface, they had great deals with the mysterious Demon Lord for ludicrous amounts of gold for their foodstuffs, but in turn, they served him.
The reason why he had spent the last three centuries funneling almost every resource at his disposal for this very unethical and highly illegal activity was for the one person he desperately wanted to be reunited with, despite its incredibly small returns.
Since there was no way of directly summoning the desired target to any of their knowledge, and properly casting summoning spells of otherworlders only brought adults, he resorted to summoning random people with improper spells that the mages were only so happy to do, which included children.
Most were safely delivered to his domain and prevented from dying, even if living in this world had torn them away from loving families. Some had restarted their entire lives and lived bright, glorious lives with new families and friends, and some had plummeted into despair. In truth, he knew what kind of monstrous business he was funding, but Leon couldn't care less if there was a chance he would get reunited with Chloe.
Once his closest childhood friend, the girl was like a younger sister to him. He had given his oath to protect her, and for this oath, thousands of people were torn away from their homes, many of whom perished in untimely deaths in the earlier days. But he had to make it work and fulfill his oath, he loved her dearly, no matter the costs.
If there was an afterlife for spiritual beings, he would surely be sent to the deepest pits of hell for his transgressions against humanity. But, then again, that would become a fitting fate for a fallen hero turned Demon Lord.
The guests arrived on time, as expected, but unlike the last time when they brought four children with them, this time they were empty-handed. No results for the thousands of gold coins he had tossed at them over the generations, ever since their great-great-grandfathers.
"Why have you come if you have no goods to offer?" He inquired at the two bowing figures, both of whom were humans, about thirty years old and dressed in expensive clothing suited for wealthy merchants. They certainly were, by any metric.
Slavery was a lucrative business and, considering that it was mostly done by crime syndicates backed by powerful nobles, if not outright less-than-savory governments, the risks for those involved were rather low so long as they played their cards right.
For example, these two felt confident enough to appear before a Demon Lord empty-handed and get away with it, even refusing to bring tribute to the mighty being who could end them in less than the blink of an eye.
"We are terribly sorry, Demon Lord Leon, but the last shipment was stolen under our noses by an unexpected culprit." One of the merchants spoke with an overly sweet and apologetic tone.
"I'll let you explain yourselves so there are no more misunderstandings," Leon replied coldly. Killing the two would serve no purpose and sever any direct trade relations with the humans for good.
The merchants spun a tale of how one of the new monster nation's leaders with shapeshifting abilities had infiltrated the school where the children were held and stole them away before anyone realized what had happened. On top of it, the monster who did the deed was deemed to be S-ranked by the Free Guild, and thus above any attempts at retaliation by even their forces.
Their ploy to pit him against Tempest was plain as day, but it didn't mean he would have to go after them. Just to be sure, Leon questioned further.
"Hmph, five otherworlders is not worth the trouble, but I want to know their names and what abilities they had."
"But of course my Lord, here is the list." One of the merchants took out a large stack of notes from his vest's pocket and handed it to a knight clad in black armor, who, in turn, brought it to his master.
'This can't be!? They… they couldn't have known. No living soul in this world knew. Chloe is among them!' "Nothing too impressive. Next time, be more careful, and don't come empty-handed. Until the children are handed over, consider your funds slashed in quarters. Dismissed." He waved them off.
As someone who rarely expressed himself, Leon managed to keep a calm demeanor after finding out the most important news of his life.
'Just wait for me, Chloe. I'll kill the storm dragon himself if I have to.'
"Claude, prepare the elite unit. We will go after those children. Additionally, gather every piece of information we have on Tempest." He addressed the black knight.
News about the monster nation within the Jura Forests had flown or sailed to even his isolated segment of the world, primarily elvish merchants and rulers from Sarion. Elmesia was a close ally who maintained good relations with his nation, and her mother Sylvia was his true mentor and dear friend. Both had told him of their findings, albeit not much.
From what they had messaged him, the Tempest Hegemony was controlled by Demon Lord-level majins and undead, and their uppermost echelons held power to possibly suppress surrounding nations. They were dangerous to say the least, even supposedly having the backing of the True Dragon Veldora, and his only hope for success at retrieving Chloe was a surprise attack before any could retaliate.
"My Lord, is it wise? Tempest is on high alert at the moment due to the war with the Church of Luminism." The man asked, bowing slightly.
"Normally, I wouldn't care, but the one I was searching for is among those five." Leon quickly stood up, adding. "Besides, if they're busy with a war, it's easier to do a quick assault and retreat before they know what happened since their forces are diverted elsewhere. We of all people should know of diversionary tactics."
"Of course, my Lord. Forgive me for doubting you." Claude said as he deeply bowed.
The preparations would only take a few hours, after which he'll brute force his way into their sacred sanctuary and rescue the girl he had searched for all those long lonely centuries. Finally, he would get his friend, no, his little sister back, and no force in the world was going to stop him. Perhaps her so-called power of love and friendship would carry him forward, even as he donned his armor.
X
Humans were annoying, to say the least. For a while, he had had a chance to forget his birthright as a prince, as what remained of the ogre clans joined Tempest as just another run-of-the-mill race, and there was no need for inner politics, tribal clashes, or inter-species warfare anymore. He was no longer a prince, just a highly-trained kijin who knew how to handle both administrative and wartime duties.
That once again changed when, by the good graces of Lord Momonga, he and Shuna were taken in, sort of becoming his adopted children. It boosted their statuses above the ones they held as ogre/kjin prince/princess. Second only to the uppermost echelons of Nazarick and the public idols of men and women across the land.
Many knew that Benimaru's status as an adopted son of Momonga wasn't official by any means, but, as Lord Demiurge had stated, it was only a matter of time before such an announcement would be made for legal purposes.
He, at the moment, was the third, technically fifth, highest-ranked member of Nazarick's military, surpassed only by Demiurge, Cocytus, and the two Lords Momonga and Pero, which, although partly achieved through his own merit, was a clear sign of favoritism. He controlled tens of thousands of warriors at a time and held the respect of hundreds of thousands more, particularly with the baby boom the past few months as more and more concerned brothers, fathers, uncles, and grandfathers contacted him for military enrollment.
Shuna, at the same time, had the luxury to study under any Nazarick member she wished to and sometimes was tutored in household duties and the magical arts by Lady Albedo herself. The guardian overseer, likely influenced by her lover's close relationship with the kijin girl, had taken more interest in her as well, meeting once a week in her private office for small-time chats.
In truth, his sister had a friendly relationship with all three of Lord Momonga's consorts due to her calm and pleasant personality and eagerness to help out her friends. She said Shalltear was always quite aggressive when it came to information about Momonga, and that Shion was doing just fine as a consort.
And that, during these moments, was one of his main causes for displeasure. Human politics were even messier, backstabbing, and opportunistic than ogre and inter-species politics were back in the day. His status as Lord Momonga's son meant smaller fry were scared away, but it also attracted more ambitious flies vying for his section of the newest, meatiest pie on the shelf.
During his few days as the de facto leader of Blumund's defense operation, he had received over twenty marriage proposals, with every noble who had a daughter or sister of marriageable age trying to peddle them to him. Whether it was in-person surrounded by friends, nervous messengers standing by his office door, or multiple attempted "surprise" meetings, it was even worse than the attention he garnered in Tempest.
The Queen of Blumund herself had dropped hints during breakfast that the still underage, second princess of Blumund could be wed to him once she reached adulthood.
"What a mess. These idiots don't even know, or conveniently forgot, that a human woman would die of magicule poisoning long before she was able to carry my child to term." Was all that Benimaru could say on the matter to a personal servant before writing another polite but rejecting letter to a count advertising their second-born daughter.
Obviously, all those marriage proposals were nothing more than futile attempts to get closer to what amounted to Tempest's first and sole royal family. Considering that he, at the moment, outranked the King of Blumund, such actions came as no surprise.
Brushing all the mental annoyances aside, he returned to the present moment, namely the strategic meeting with the leaders of the local military. As of now, neither Blumund's knights nor their regular army were integrated into Tempest's military forces, and wouldn't be for the near future. Unless he would be assigned to other duties, this task would fall to Benimaru's shoulders since Demiurge was busy with the other end of the war.
They had gathered in the mansion of Marquis Yarlan, the general in charge of Blumund's military force. The military command room was made with functionality in mind with next to no needless luxury. They had standard wooden tables and chairs, littered with well-worn maps and chipped figurines.
The man was in his late forties, nearing fifty, but was powerfully built for a noble his age. Clean-shaven, shoulder-length graying brown hair, and one hell of a mustache, he gave the impression of someone who didn't mess around. He displayed the same cautiousness when gathering information, something Benimaru could appreciate.
"Scouts reported an army of approximately twenty-two thousand Ruberious temple knights, led by one of the Ten Saints, Garde, heading straight for this city. Additionally, twenty crusaders were spotted among the ranks of the temple knights, with an estimated ten more hidden among their ranks." One of Yarlan's lieutenants read the reports.
He switched pages and continued. "Taking into consideration of the four thousand undead called the old guard, the incoming army outnumbers our forces approximately four to one."
"That is according to plan," Benimaru coldly replied, calmness befitting a military commander.
"General Benimaru, you have withheld information long enough. I think it's time for you to explain how we will defend our borders without catastrophic losses. I, for one, prefer to avoid suicidal last stands." Yarlan stated insistently, staring at the demihuman he viewed as overly arrogant.
"I withheld the plan in case there was a traitor among Blumund's forces. Rest assured, I am fully prepared to deal with Ruberious' forces. But you are right, it is time to reveal my plan." retorted Benimaru, shooting the older man a smirk.
"I am eager to hear it. Unless you have some secret weapon up your sleeve, our situation cannot be turned around on the fly and will likely meet them on the open field."
"Once the enemy army is close enough, my real forces will arrive through gates. Lord Demiurge has given me, besides the old guard, two legions of master guarders, each having twenty-five thousand undead who are each, according to the Free Guild's estimate, a half step into special A rank. Additionally, a legion of insectars ranging from A to S rank will provide air support, again through gates. With the enemy not expecting such a force, they will be unprepared to defend when we launch the offensive, and we will outnumber them instead nearly four to one."
"Are you suggesting that spatial magic will be used to transport seventy-five thousand units!?" Yarlan leaped to his feet, mustache flaring. "That is preposterous!"
"I suggest you do not underestimate the might of Tempest. Your life depends on it." Benimaru's tone grew menacing as his fiery aura filled the room, all but burning the furniture they sat upon.
"O-Of course. Please forgive me, General Benimaru. I simply didn't know such a feat was possible." Yarlan quickly backed down, fearing for his life.
"You are forgiven on grounds of ignorance. Now, I do believe it is time to make some final preparations and crush our enemy."
X
Just a few hours later, Yarlan was standing on a small hill with Benimaru beside him.
Despite his high status, the marquis, as it turned out, was a capable fighter and could easily fight on equal terms with an elite knight from Ruberious. He had greatly enjoyed telling tales of his adventures during his more rebellious youth to break the ice, something Benimaru appreciated as the tension in the commanding tents grew ever higher. But now it was time for both to focus.
While he understood the massive power difference between him and the monster who was currently in charge of protecting his homeland, he was still understandably nervous. The fanatics of Luminism, who, in their misguided zealousness, had come to replace one new leader with another, still had their histories of successfully putting down majin after majin, all in their self-proclaimed justice of "freeing the people."
The most ironic thing was that the "monstrous" Tempest cared much less about what the people believed in and how they wanted to live, so long as they didn't break laws that were, despite being rather harsh, written with impartiality in mind. In contrast, the supposed virtuous church of Luminism had attempted to seize control of their nation, aiming to dismantle it into little more than a puppet state for its religion.
An honest man didn't need to fear his new rulers and could rest assured that no harm would come to him or his family. His peasants were more than pleased at the new changes, such as higher wages and education for children, which meant more loyal citizens for the time being.
Even a quick glance would reveal that Benimaru had prioritized the safety of their rather squishy human troops, leaving them as the reserve forces while Tempest's forces would take the front line. Just the old guard seemed intimidating enough to take on Blumund's fielded forces and win.
Yarlan had yet to witness the impossible feat of teleporting in entire armies, but there wasn't time to worry about any duplicity right now. It was fight or die time, fleeing or freezing were options no more ever since he had advised his king to kneel.
Meanwhile, the enemy bristled just beyond their archers' and mages' firing distance, their spears, swords, and shields all but roaring for blood. Split into three main groups, it would likely use an elite core to shatter their center, then surround the fractured few thousands with their sheer numbers and anti-magic shields to secure the victory. The battle could start at any time, their own forces rattling their weapons in response.
Usually, both sides exchanged terms of surrender before the start of the bloodshed for formalities and to prevent needless blood loss, but today nothing of sorts had happened. Neither side was willing to give any mercy to the other, and both sides understood the mercilessness of the other.
The moment the enemy commander charged forward with a small team of crusaders, aiming straight for Benimaru, the kijin gave the command to start the frontal assault.
"General, are you capable of defeating a saint? I'm afraid I can only offer to take on one crusader personally." Yarlan asked the outwardly fearless Benimaru.
"This is not the time for personal glory, I'm afraid. I won't be fighting the enemy commander."
"But who is going to stop the saint?"
"Just watch." The kijin retorted. The disappointment of him not having a chance to fight was clear as day on the young man's handsome face, which both reassured and slightly scared the nobleman.
'Monster leaders usually fight each other when it comes to wars. It's safe to assume Ruberios' military planners likely counted on Benimaru fighting the saint himself and likely had set out a trap. Which means that Tempest's strategist prepared countermeasures.' Yarlan reasoned.
The saint and his supporting group charged toward them with astounding speed, far surpassing the capabilities of regular humans as their blades glowed white and boots tore brown. Yet about halfway, they suddenly tumbled over seemingly nonexistent stones and collapsed, gory and bloody as weapons clattered on armor.
'What could have done it?'
As the marquis wondered what sort of monster or skill could have done it, humanoid creatures clad in dark clothing from head to toe appeared all around the fallen foes and hurled them up onto their shoulders, quickly disappearing as they had appeared.
'Invisible assassins! Thank the gods - besides Luminous - above that our king knelt before Tempest. They could have annihilated us.'
He glanced at the still Benimaru, whose expression of deep concentration crushed his hopes of getting some sort of explanation. He would remain silent, knowing not to disturb his superior when things got tough as he already had thoughts regarding what Benimaru was doing.
'Sending telepathic orders no doubt. I can only envy monsters for how many tools they have at their disposal. If all of them were as smart as the leaders of Tempest, humanity likely wouldn't have survived this long.'
His reasoning was on point as the undead forces marched past them, ignoring their human forces and quickly beginning the true clash with the church's army. His vision of the field was so obscured by their sheer numbers, that he had no clue what was happening.
However, it seemed Benimaru even had an answer for that, despite never verbalizing his thoughts. In his arms appeared a meter-by-half-a-meter-sized mirror set in an intricate wooden frame, showing an aerial view of the battle and clearly displaying the front lines.
Mere moments later, just as the kijin general had planned, an incredible number of undead monsters, clad in glittering golden armor, gated directly into and around the flanks of the enemy, swinging in unison as they tore through metal and bone with ease. Large swathes of humans attempted to flee, only to find themselves surrounded. Only the back of their center formation was still completely intact, and it was starting to crumble from fleeing soldiers.
But as the momentum started to build, the skies darkened around the two armies. Yarlan glanced upward, only to find swarms of humanoid insectars pouring out of numerous dark, swirling voids and tearing into the retreating stragglers and particularly centered soldiers. There was no chance of escape, as now the entire army had been surrounded with apparent ease and would perish soon enough.
To even call it a battle in future depictions would be a stretch, if Yarlan had anything to say to future historians glorifying Tempest's and Blumund's victory. He thought it as a one-sided massacre, proving how badly Ruberios and humanity as a whole, had underestimated Tempest.
It was said that, in the face of true terror, even faith in God falters, and this was clearly one such case. The otherwise zealous and surviving knights of the holy empire began to attempt chaotic dashes through the encirclement once they realized there was no hope for victory or survival if they continued to fight.
Yet, the small hope of living another day was crushed immediately. The monstrous flying creatures picked them off one by one with frightening efficiency, and the undead armored skeletons had completed their containment around the perimeter. It would only be a matter of time until every man and woman was slain, and everyone knew it.
Yarlan could only internally praise the gods and spirits who watched over his nation and gave King Drum the wisdom to side with Tempest. If fate had other plans, he would have been among those who perished at the hands of these monsters. He would have stood no chance, even when defending his king to the last man.
Minutes later, the battle had ended, the monsters milling around in the field. Their human forces were, naturally, quite nervous even after the battle had ended, and Benimaru seemed to take no moves as both stood upon their small hill, so he spoke up first.
"I wish to apologize for doubting you and Tempest, General." The older marquis bowed his head before the young kijin, even deeper than he did for his own king.
"Lord Momonga considers the safety of his subjects a top priority," Benimaru replied.
"Of course, but as well-versed as I am in politics, I was fearful that those were empty words at first, yet now I have been proven wrong and understand the reason why the whole plan was not revealed to me."
"Your sentiment is understandable. I wouldn't trust humans blindly either. There still remains too much bad blood between our kind that lingers, despite uniting under the one banner of Tempest." Benimaru nodded in agreement.
It was a trait of the young and naive to be trustful and without suspicion. Life, sooner or later, crushed this trait in anyone. Benimaru couldn't blame the human for doubting Tempest's intentions, he would have done the same if the situation was reversed. And the heartfelt apology proved that the trust he needed for proper administration had been gained, and that this man would be unlikely to seek assurances and politics for his people from elsewhere besides him.
Overall, the defense had been a resounding success. Not a single human casualty or injury on their side, only minor wounds to the insectars thanks to lucky spears or shield bashes, and the skeletons would be healed or replaced in their undead domain's miasma sooner or later. The enemy had been completely decimated, with not a single survivor managing to flee.
"It's time to wrap this up. Once the corpses are gathered,
the standing forces can return home."
Yarlan knew better than to ask what the monsters intended to do with the corpses, but it wasn't hard to guess that many would consider human meat a delicious treat. Considering their supreme leader was an undead who could presumably raise more like the ones who had all but won the battle for them, the human bones would be put elsewhere.
The battle was won, and if what he had witnessed was any indication of Tempest's military prowess, the primary crusade force was practically marching to their deaths. Given how Ruberios had pulled out most of its stops for this never-before-seen invasion, maybe it'll even cause the implosion of the single largest church in the Western Nations when most of their forces were decimated.
He would have to advise his colleagues to start actively supporting and investing in the Tempestian government, the stronger their foundations, the more they would reap later when Tempest made their next moves. War is profitable for those who make the weapons, after all.
Editing by aidan_lo
Proofreading by Sluethen, Cakeeight, FantasyTroll, Working_Stiff, Malguis, and aidan_lo
AN: Thank you for reading the story, and if you have caught up to the latest chapter, you can check out my other work or join my discord server (https://discord.gg/WmGKVU3XG2) where additional chapters are available or if you are interested in becoming a beta reader (gives access to chapters months ahead of regular readers).