Year 3529, Day 310
The Demonic Battlefield is located at the edge of the world.
Legend says that a long time ago, two immortals had a great conflict near our world, which severely weakened the spatial barrier, allowing strange creatures to create a portal to our realm.
These beasts are monstrous, deformed, and hideous, with almost no intelligence.
However, their strength is formidable, and their combat instincts are highly developed.
This is where I've chosen to go.
The entire area within three thousand kilometers of the portal is considered a war zone, and deadly battles take place almost daily.
I need two hundred and fifty thousand contribution points to exchange for the sword spirit formation technique.
Given that a rank 4 demon is worth one point, a rank 5 demon fifty points, and a rank 6 demon a thousand points, it's going to take some time, even though it's doable.
...
"Haaaa," a sigh echoed in the room as Sylvera read the report on his desk.
"It was predictable," said Isabella. "They knew the risks, they were fully aware it was a suicide mission, yet they still volunteered."
Sylvera nodded but said nothing.
"The survivors have no physical issues, but the damage to their psyche could be permanent. That will be their own tribulation. If they can overcome it, we may soon have new commanders. If not, they'll remain stuck at this stage for the rest of their lives," Ilbert said.
He was mainly thinking about Nate, the genius formations master, unfortunately stuck as a lower existence.
The divine envoy had been moved by their actions and even healed his botched foundations.
As long as Nate could overcome his inner demons, he could easily condense his golden core.
The three leaders of Alandal then changed the subject and began preparing their next move.
For the first time since the war began, it was time to gather the entire Grand Army.
The other four camps had already begun packing up and retreating, while the airships had left the portals and were on their way.
Within a few days, the entire army would be assembled.
At some point, there was a knock on the door, and Nevra entered the room.
"Has something happened, Nevra?" Sylvera asked.
The naga nodded slightly.
"The hostages have woken up."
...
Somewhere in the camp, there was an underground room with a pearly white hue, illuminated by a blinding light.
At the center of the room, five completely naked figures were bound by heavy chains engraved with tiny patterns.
Three of them were small creatures covered in brown fur, while the other two were large white monkeys whose bodies were streaked with black lines.
The three mortals remained silent, observing the empty room with indifference.
On the other hand, the two monkeys struggled with all their might, trying to break free from the chains.
All they could do was squirm a little and scream in frustration.
At some point, three people entered the room: a large and massive naga carrying a spear, a Valyr with a scholarly air, and a Drake in human form with a fierce expression.
Even though they didn't release any aura, their mere presence was enough to put such pressure on the monkeys that they stopped moving instantly, staring at them in terror.
"_-9DNèoéc*$é_cjé_ébd_ç,"
"8éb3#[|çc_é@,"
The monkeys couldn't understand what they were saying, but they had a bad feeling.
The Valyr then extended his hand, and suddenly, all five felt a sharp pain in their heads before everything went black.
...
Slowly, they woke up one by one.
Curiously, the mortals woke up not long after the monkey warrior, barely half an hour later.
But Sylvera didn't care at all and quickly began the interrogation.
He stood in front of the monkey great warrior and used his mental strength to lift him into the air, bringing him to eye level.
"Here's how this is going to go," he said darkly. "I'll ask the questions, and you'll answer truthfully."
The monkey was still in shock from suddenly being able to understand him and was too stunned to respond.
"Do you see the gentleman behind me? Know that he has inserted his consciousness into your soul and can tell if you're lying. You know, we could have directly read your memories, but souls are delicate things. Even for us, there's a risk of damaging it in the process and losing some information."
Isabella approached and gave him a kind smile, showing her sharp white teeth, sending chills down the monkey's spine.
"Let's be clear—you're going to die today. The question is whether you'll die peacefully or in excruciating pain. That's up to you."
Ilbert stepped forward, and the other two moved aside.
At over fifteen hundred years old, he was by far the most experienced in such matters; Sylvera and Isabella were just there to observe and play the bad cop role.
"Let's start simple—we don't have all the day to waste. What's your name?"
The monkey looked him straight in the eyes but, despite the earlier warnings, said nothing.
Ilbert couldn't help but sigh.
"Why always choose the hard way?" he asked.
Immediately, he used the mark he had placed on the monkey's soul to begin slowly tearing tiny pieces of it.
The monkey instantly convulsed and shook in his chair, but the pain was so intense that he couldn't even scream.
After what seemed like an eternity to him, but was actually only five seconds, Ilbert stopped and looked at him calmly, making the monkey tremble in fear and abandon all thoughts of rebellion.
"Even though I'm not a professional in soul manipulation, I can do this hundreds of times before causing serious damage to your soul, and thousands of times before it collapses. So, let's try again—what's your name?"
...
Under the terrified gaze of the two monkeys and the three mortals, Ilbert quickly uncovered the great warrior's identity.
He was what they called a two-star marauder, specializing in piloting the strange machine James had brought back, the Vikings.
He also learned about the existence of what they called the compound V. It was a strange substance created by their civilization that had the power to greatly enhance the physical abilities of those who took it.
In fact, the compound V acted only as a trigger and, with about a 5% chance, could elevate their bodies to the rank of warrior or, as they called it, a one-star marauder.
After that, they had to undergo a rigorous training program to improve until they reached the peak of rank 2 and take a much more potent dose of the compound V, called V2, to advance to the level of great warrior/two-star marauder, with about a 20% success rate and a one in three chance of death in case of failure.
As Ilbert continued his interrogation, Sylvera was already considering to steal the compound V and bring it back to Alandal.
As long as they could replicate or even improve it, that alone would be enough to compensate for their losses.
"Now, let's get to the serious matters," the grand mage said to the two monkeys. "How many of you are in this base?"
The great warrior monkey took a moment to think.
After experiencing the soul torture a few times, he had decided to fully cooperate.
No one could really blame him—very few people could resist soul torture without ever having reinforced their soul.
"I don't have the exact number, but there should be between sixty and seventy thousand people in the base," he said.
"How many marauders?" Ilbert asked. "How many Vikings, and what other types of vehicles do you have?"
Again, the monkey took some time to think.
"I'd say around twelve thousand one-star marauders, a thousand two-star marauders. As for the three-star marauders, no more than fifty, all equipped with exo-armor of the same level."
"There are fifty Viking squads, each with five Vikings. Well, 49 now. We also have several tanks, missile launchers, electromagnetic cannons, mechs, airborne and ground troop transporters, hundreds of thousands of drones..."
The more Ilbert learned, the more serious he became.
"So, how many of these strange bombs do you have?"
At the same time, he pulled out a small pearl and projected the two images onto the wall.
But he didn't get the answer he expected.
Instead, the two monkeys stood there, dumbfounded, avoiding his gaze. It didn't take a genius to realize they knew nothing.
"Five hundred thermobaric bombs and ten nuclear bombs," suddenly said one of the small brown creatures, drawing the attention of the three intermediate existences and the anger of the two monkeys.
"You filthy inferior, how dare you speak in my presence?!" the warrior instantly roared, while the great warrior managed to maintain his calm outwardly, though his anger was clearly visible in his eyes.
However, he remained clear-headed and understood that he was no longer in a position of power. To the three beings before him, his status was completely meaningless.
"Perhaps these inferiors hold more value to them than I do," he thought with derision.
And indeed, he was right.
Isabella frowned, and instantly, the warrior burst into flames. The flame wasn't very powerful, but it was enough for a lowly one-star marauder.
The monkey screamed and struggled in his chair, but it was futile.
Two seconds later, the room fell silent, and five seconds after that, only ashes remained of the monkey, with the chains falling heavily onto the chair, both in perfect condition.
The monkey great warrior felt cold sweat trickling down his back and silently thanked the heavens for keeping his mouth shut.
Meanwhile, the three little brown creatures watched the scene with undisguised satisfaction, which, of course, did not escape Ilbert's notice.
He immediately began interrogating the three small creatures and started digging deeper.
These three little creatures were from a race called the Donvers, and they were mere slaves in this base.
In fact, the number the monkey had given only counted the monkeys. There were actually nearly 20 000 Donvers in the base in addition to the monkeys, serving as laborers and tasked with the most menial jobs.
They were highly skilled in technology, physics, chemistry, biology...and even the compound V was their invention.
But then, how had such an intelligent race become slaves?
It all dated back several hundred years before the Consortium—the name of the civilization to which the monkeys and Donvers belonged—had ventured out of their home world, a mere lower plane.
At that time, the Donvers were at war with a magical civilization and were rapidly losing ground.
However, their knowledge was already brilliant, and in a desperate attempt, they created a new species in a laboratory: a physically strong race, innately gifted in combat, with a massive reproduction rate—the Minks.
They mass-produced them and implanted an inhibitory brain chip that forced them to follow their orders to the letter.
The magical civilization had only just emerged and had almost no intermediate existences. With the addition of the monkeys, the Consortium quickly launched a counterattack and managed to completely destroy this civilization.
Years passed, and the Minks continued to reproduce.
Meanwhile, peace finally came to their home world, and the Consortium entered a phase of rapid development.
But then a question arose: what should they do with the monkeys?
The high-ranking Donvers wanted to exterminate them all, but a pacifist faction emerged among the people, advocating for the unconditional release of the Minks for their services rendered.
This faction quickly gained influence, and eventually, the high-ranking Donvers were forced to deactivate the chips.
Now ask yourself, what would you do if you were a race created for war, and that the only thing preventing you from taking control of the world and slaughtering those who forced you to fight for them without any reward suddenly disappeared?
The answer is as simple as it is brutal.
Within a day, almost all the monkeys revolted, and the situation quickly reversed.
However, the high-ranking Donvers acted quickly and destroyed all data related to the mental control of the inhibitory chip.
Even when the Consortium entered the interstellar age, no Donver was willing to resume research on the chip, preferring torture over becoming the supreme sinner of their race.
Nevertheless, the situation wasn't simple.
The Donvers were persecuted daily, tortured, or massacred at any time by anyone, while still being forced to continually work for the monkeys.
Another important point was that they had a nano-bomb placed in their hearts in case they tried to escape, which could be triggered remotely.
"Well, it seems like the situation might not be as dire as we thought," Sylvera smiled as he listened to the Donvers' story.