Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 978- Battle of Mount Gorgor (4)

Arrows rained down from above, spears thrust forward from the parapets impaling and piercing multiple monsters. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Hold steady!" Dravik's voice roared over the chaos, his figure commanding atop the wall "Don't lose your balance! Hold the line!".

Yet, even as he roared out orders, the soldiers scrambled to maintain their footing. Using this chance, the agile demonic beasts began scaling the walls.

The snarls grew louder as the distance was closed and the screams of desperation rang all around the walls.

Arrows were loosed, spears thrust, claws raked, and fangs bit down, the sound of metal clashing against flesh and bone creating a horrific symphony.

Sparks of magic erupted like a twisted imitation of fireworks, mingling with the blood-red hue that blossomed around the fortress like a field of roses.

It was a beautiful sight—enthralling, even—but make no mistake: it was also grotesque, each bloom of crimson a life extinguished. The battlefield below became a vision of hell.

War was cruelty incarnate, a stage where screams of agony composed a demonic symphony. Blood painted the ground and walls alike, mixing with the dirt to form a ghastly slurry.

The acrid stench of burning flesh—both human and demon—hung heavy in the air, and the flashes of magic only added to the disorienting chaos.

Common sense dictated that the south wing army consisting mainly of barely trained conscripts, would have stood no chance against the power of the detached demon army. But thanks to the fortress which provided them with an edge, they were able to barely hold on.

With their elevated position on the walls, they could see the enemy first and shoot their arrows down. Plus, even though the walls were barely stable and unmaintained, they provided adequate defence and also slowed down the enemy.

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Back in the demon lines, Melkan clicked his tongue in half amusement half frustration. His sharp eyes observed the battlefield, the infernal hounds which he thought would completely obliterate any obstacles, were held at bay.

"These humans... they are more resilient than I thought."

The powerful breath attacks of the Infernal Hounds were even capable of incinerating metal and reducing flesh to ash.

Yet most of the soldiers were unharmed, managing to shield themselves with well-timed magic barriers, while others had used the terrain to their advantage, luring the hounds into traps.

It was not only the infernal hounds, the monsters and lineup of the demon army met with similar obstructions almost as if the enemy knew the weaknesses of these monsters.

"I don't know how but they are putting up quite a fight" Melkan's smirk widened as his amusement turned to impatience "But that won't last long."

 "What are those Demon Barons doing?" he snapped, turning to one of his adjutants.

"Tell them to fly over the walls and attack the command chain. Without their leaders, these humans will scatter like headless chickens."

The adjutant relayed the order, and moments later, many Demon Barons spread their wings and took to the skies. Though the lowest of the demon noble hierarchy, their wings and sharp senses gave them a distinct advantage over the ground-bound monsters.

Demon nobles even the false ones like Demon Baron with their impure bloodlines, possessed superior intelligence and combat prowess compared to mere monsters.

The flight skill allowed the Demon barons to bypass the fortress's defences entirely. Hovering over the walls, they cast novice-level fire and other basic attribute magic, raining destruction down on the human backlines.

Explosions erupted sending soldiers and mercenaries flying. Some relatively lucky ones managed to come out with only light injuries while those that fell down, were squashed underneath the hooves and hurled to their deaths below.

"Hehehe.. Frontline monsters to batter the defences, and Demon Barons to wreck the backline. Let's see how long these pitiful humans last" Melkan chuckled, watching the chaos unfold.

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Back on the walls, Dravik watched the scene of carnage unfold before him. Bloodied and panting, his sword flashed as he decapitated a climbing beast before turning his gaze skyward.

"It was going well… until those damn Demon Barons showed up."

The Demon Barons weren't too formidable of a foe, with adequate preparation, a group of soldiers could take them on. However, what made them a threat was their cunning and powerful magic.

The humans, already stretched thin, struggled to deal with this new aerial assault. The flying demons swooped overhead, their spells wreaking havoc on the defenders' coordination. Archers fell, barriers faltered, and the soldiers' morale began to waver.

"Rothgard! We need to handle those bastards in the sky, or this fortress will fall!" Dravik clenched his teeth and called out.

"Yeah I know, you all get ready" On Rothgard's command, the elite soldiers of the South Wing Army, those who had fought alongside Dravik for years—stepped forward.

Unlike the green conscripts manning the walls, these were hardened soldiers, seasoned by years of battle. Without hesitation, they separated from their teams, rushing toward the areas where the Demon Barons were wreaking havoc.

"Snort, weak humans you dare oppose Lord Agramon… die"

The Demon Barons hovered in the air like wraiths, cursing and laughing at the agony of the humans. Their cunning eyes gleamed with malice, scanning for opportunities to wreak havoc.

Despite being the lowest of demon nobles, they were far from weak, wielding a combination of martial prowess and novice magic, they were a formidable opponent in a war like this.

Noosgard continued to laugh in twisted pleasure casting large scale AOE novice magic and showcasing his large mana pool.

Until today, he was one of the lowest ranking demons in the Demon Lord army, someone who had spent their entire life being looked down upon.

However, that all changed yesterday when Melkan, a Demon earl came looking for him. Not only had he joined a new faction, but he was also given an important role in the war.

Noosgard was itching to bring out results. He cast a relatively large fire spell on one of the human teams which was most vulnerable, expecting them to scream miserably when a sword slash cut his spells in two causing it to miss entirely.