Chapter 522: Surprise Attack
The demons' offensive continued. These monsters from the Abyss surged forward like an unending tide, launching charge after charge.
Against the fierce artillery and deadly mines of the Ember Empire, they employed the most primitive countermeasure—sacrificing lesser demons to exhaust the Empire's ammunition and clear the minefields.
Countless Primal Demons and Coward Demons surged toward the Imperial Wall under the orders of higher demons.
Most of them were reduced to charred remains by the relentless barrage of artillery, turning to dust. Only a small fraction, perhaps two or three out of ten, managed to slip through the blockade, reaching the minefield, only to trigger the hidden traps beneath the earth.
Thus, for the Abyssal Legion to advance even ten meters, they often had to sacrifice thousands of lesser demons.
This exchange seemed uneven, but the Abyss had no shortage of lesser demons. The number of Primal Demons and Coward Demons controlled by Jezal Slak alone likely exceeded billions.
To the demon commanders, these lesser demons were disposable fodder. Their worth was far less than the Empire's artillery shells and landmines, even less than a single bullet.
After all, when a demon perished outside the Abyss, it would still be reborn in the Blood Pool. Sending these creatures to die was always a gain, so long as—they could conquer the Ember Empire.
Explosions erupted one after another, waves of demons fell, and the night was lit as brightly as day by the infernal flames, leaving no refuge for the demons lurking in the shadows.
This assault continued until dawn. Even as the sun slowly rose and the morning glow tinged the clouds red, arcs of artillery fire still crisscrossed the slightly dim sky.
The ground was littered with scorched demon remains. Their corpses blanketed the land, forming an eerie 'soil,' with hills of bodies stacked upon each other.
Whenever shells struck these 'hills,' the corpses would explode violently, sending shattered limbs flying in all directions.
Yet even the Empire's finest artillery required cooling intervals; it could not sustain bombardment indefinitely. Likewise, the artillery crews had their limits.
But the demons were different.
Born from the chaos of the cosmos, they were endless and ceaseless, spreading evil and disorder without respite.
By the latter half of the night, the ground was riddled with craters, the entire wasteland lowered by three feet, only to be filled again by the bodies of Coward Demons and Primal Demons.
Now, the demonic tide had pushed forward, closing in on the Imperial Wall, stopping just over a thousand meters from the defensive line.
"Smack!"
"Those cowards only dare to hurl iron balls from a distance. Once we engage in close combat, they will be torn to pieces!
Mortals are always weak and pathetic, fit only to be our food, nourishment for the great Abyss!"
The Soul Judge Demon cracked its long whip, while the colossal Bull Demons, resembling mobile fortresses, let out deep roars, exhaling thick smoke. Meanwhile, the Floro Demons flapped their wings midair, shrieking in a deafening cacophony.
"Roar!"
"Awoo..."
Still, the Coward Demons and Primal Demons wriggled and twisted forward, charging at the forefront of the demonic tide toward the Imperial Wall.
From within the fortress, thick cannon barrels emerged, their dark muzzles aimed directly at the demons before unleashing a fiery barrage.
"Boom!"
"Boom! Boom!"
The same thunderous blasts echoed. Smoke filled the air, flames surged, and explosions erupted within the demonic horde, reducing the frontmost demons to cinders once again.
Charred remains and severed limbs rained down, yet the demons roared and charged on.
For the lowest-ranking demons, their superiors' orders were absolute. There had even been cases where a demon lord, on a whim, transformed an entire army of Coward Demons into Berserker Demons.
Across the few hundred meters of defensive lines, tens of thousands of demons surged forward, a vast black tide consuming the land and sky, nearly blotting out the world beyond the fortifications.
"There are too many..."
"Not enough. The firepower still isn't enough!"
George observed the battlefield through his binoculars, his expression grim as he muttered under his breath.
This time, his superiors had placed high expectations on him. The position he was defending was a crucial part of the front, vital to the security and stability of the entire defensive line. There was no room for error.
The artillery inside the bunker roared so loudly that normal conversation was impossible. He turned his head and shouted at his adjutant: "Tell the artillery crew to keep firing! Not a single shot stops without my order!"
"Yes, Commander!"
The messenger nodded quickly before hurrying off, waving signal flags to relay orders to the other encampments.
The adjutant asked, "What about the machine gun teams? And the special units from above..."
George kept his eyes on the battlefield through his binoculars, extending his right hand as he replied in a low voice, "Not yet. Wait."
He then moved to a bunker window, setting up a mounted machine gun, aiming at the distant demons.
"Damn Abyssal bugs. How do they even breed? We kill them, and they never stop coming."
He cursed under his breath.
With the overlapping fire from over a dozen defensive turrets, hundreds of demons fell every second.
Yet, under the command of the higher demons, the tide continued its advance, trampling over their kin's shattered, indistinct corpses without hesitation, as if they would never retreat.
The demons' twisted faces and ear-piercing shrieks grew ever closer to the Imperial soldiers.
The soldiers' hands trembled as they gripped their rifles, sweat dripping from their brows.
Too many.
There were simply too many.
This was no ordinary army—it was an unstoppable catastrophe, a black avalanche crashing down upon the wasteland.
And the distance between the demonic tide and the defensive line kept shrinking.
One thousand meters.
Nine hundred meters.
Eight hundred meters.
At six hundred meters, George suddenly clenched the trigger and roared, "Open fire! Shoot them down!"
Instantly, from the dozens of bunker windows, hundreds of cold steel barrels erupted with flame.
The soldiers, trained through hundreds of drills, acted on muscle memory, ensuring not a single mistake.
"Tat-tat-tat—"
"Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—"
Bullets rained down like a storm, interweaving into a deadly web between the demons and the defensive line.
The foremost few hundred demons were immediately shredded, blood bursting from their bodies as they collapsed one after another.
Yet the machine guns did not stop.
"Die, Abyssal bugs!"
George held his weapon, his expression severe, his eyes slightly bloodshot as he swept his aim across the battlefield.
"Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—"
"Boom! Boom!"
Bullets screamed through the air, artillery shells detonated amidst the demonic ranks.
More and more demons fell, and even those that had charged so fiercely began to scatter in retreat.
By the time the gun barrels glowed red-hot, requiring cold water to cool them, thousands of demon corpses littered the distant wasteland.
"They're retreating! The demons are retreating!"
"Long live the Empire!"
"Long live His Majesty Cassius!"
The soldiers cheered, embracing in the bunkers, celebrating their victory.
But George remained grim. He knew this retreat was only temporary—the demons were scheming something far worse.
His task was far from over. This war had only begun.
Sure enough, a rough, guttural roar echoed from the distance, filled with the stench of blood, stirring an instinctive fear—the fear of prey toward a predator, of livestock toward a butcher.
"Roar—"
Logically speaking, after enduring such a concentrated barrage of firepower, even the strongest demon should have been reduced to ashes. But years of warfare had honed George's instincts—things were never that simple.
Sure enough, from within the churning smoke, a massive and grotesque shadow burst forth, laughing maniacally.
Its many spider-like, glowing eyes radiated endless killing intent.
"Hahahaha! Your feeble resistance! Every last one of you will be slaughtered by me—completely annihilated!"
Then, it lifted its head and opened its enormous, fang-filled maw, unleashing a frenzied roar.
"Roar—"
The roar was chaotic, devoid of rhythm, filled with the essence of the Abyss, like the discordant wails of countless demons from its depths.
It was a blasphemous utterance!
Instantly, everyone inside the bunker was overwhelmed with terror, their souls trembling, their minds flooded with visions of their gods being devoured by the Butcher Demon.
"W-what is that?"
"By Cassius!"
"Blasphemy—this is absolute blasphemy!"
Soldiers clutched their heads in agony, writhing on the ground, screaming and wailing.
George's face was pale, cold sweat streaming down his forehead, trickling down his cheeks.
Yet he gritted his teeth until they creaked, barely maintaining his rationality.
—After all, he was of dragon-blooded nobility. His soul was firmly bound to His Majesty, strong enough to resist any spiritual assault.
"Damn demon."
George glanced around at the suffering soldiers and cursed bitterly.
This demon was too powerful. If it broke through the Imperial Wall, it could single-handedly slaughter the entire artillery regiment.
Without hesitation, George leapt into an unoccupied machine gun nest and unleashed a relentless barrage at the Butcher Demon, barking orders: "Cover fire! Heavy shield troops, move up! Do not let that demon breach the line! For the Ember Empire!"
Some soldiers still retained their senses—like the brutish Ogres, the dull-witted Wyverns, and the soulless players.
"For the Empire!"
"Ogre heavy shield soldiers, charge!"
"Smash that giant bug! Eat it!"
The Ogres let out war cries, hoisting massive four-meter-tall steel shields, forming a sturdy wall at the frontlines.
Behind them, machine guns and artillery continued to pour bullets and shells onto the demon, covering the shield troops.
Meanwhile, the players enthusiastically charged out of the bunkers, attacking the Butcher Demon from all directions.
"Here we go!"
"Brothers, charge with me!"
"Take down this boss—we're gonna be rich! This thing is worth tens of thousands of gold dinars!"
"Flip it over!"
For the players, sitting in bunkers farming contribution points with artillery was nice, but a bit dull.
Fighting demons up close, dueling bosses with their teammates, breathing in the smoke-filled battlefield, and tasting blood and fire—this was the true romance of war!
"I will make you realize—how insignificant you are!"
The Butcher Demon roared with laughter, swinging its massive claws, its bladed limbs flashing with deadly light.
"Slash—"
A heavy shield was instantly cleaved apart as if it were mere paper.
Then, the front row of Ogres was sliced in half in the blink of an eye, their agonized wails filling the air as their massive bodies spilled a mixture of blood and entrails.
"Impossible!"
"They… they died just like that?"
The Ogre Heavy Shield Soldiers were among the Empire's elite, tasked with leading charges, renowned as the Empire's walking fortresses.
Yet now, they were slaughtered as effortlessly as pigs or lambs.
There was no time to dwell on the horror. The Butcher Demon swung its massive claws again, pinning several Ogres beneath them, mercilessly crushing them into pulp.
"Roar—"
The Butcher Demon stood atop a mound of Ogre corpses, roaring ferociously, its barbed tail lashing out, skewering several soldiers in rapid succession.
"Awoo—"
Wyverns screeched as they swooped down from the sky, aiming to claw out the demon's eyes.
But the Butcher Demon's bladed limbs slashed through the air, severing a Wyvern's slender neck in one swift motion.
The screech was cut short.
Then, the demon's long tail lunged sideways, impaling another Wyvern clean through the chest.
One after another, the Wyverns let out death cries and plummeted to the ground.
Even in the Abyss, the Butcher Demon was a predator among predators.
On the battlefield of the Material Plane, it became a pure killing machine—its mantis-like bladed limbs, its barbed tail, its dragon-like claws, its bear-like massive frame.
Every part of its body had been meticulously crafted by its demon lord for slaughter, instilling fear in all who faced it.
This single Butcher Demon alone had pinned down thousands of Imperial soldiers, drawing almost all the firepower of this defensive sector.
Meanwhile, the demonic legion behind it was rapidly advancing. The Bull Demons stomped forward, shaking the ground.
The demonic tide surged anew—countless Coward Demons and Primal Demons shrieked with excitement, swarming forward in waves.
"You insect demon, taste my iron fist!"
Amidst the chaos, Dawei Tianlong stepped forward, his fists the size of cooking pots raining down upon the Butcher Demon's back like a violent storm.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Yet the demon did not even flinch. It slowly turned its head, all its eyes locking onto the monk, baring its rows of razor-sharp teeth.
"Human… you have courage. I shall grant you an interesting death."
"Slash—"
Before the words had even fully left its mouth, its massive tail came crashing down, piercing through the monk's skull, impaling his muscular body, nailing him to the ground.
In his final moments, the monk tried to dodge, but the demon's dozens of compound eyes gleamed with a strange light, paralyzing him completely.
"Holy—Dawei Tianlong got one-shotted?!"
"Damn, what kind of insane damage is this boss doing? It just shredded my rare armor with one hit!"
"It's immune to lightning! My lightning beam does nothing!"
"It's coming!"
The Butcher Demon rampaged through the battlefield, its massive body drenched in blood, its many compound eyes gleaming with manic excitement.
It opened its giant, fang-filled mouth and lunged at the Imperial soldiers, saliva dripping from its maw.
"Shit!"
"It's too fast! I can't dodge!"
Its massive jaws split apart, devouring several unfortunate players before snapping shut, its countless razor-sharp teeth grinding them into pulp.
It had intended to savor the long-lost taste of fresh meat, but then it hesitated, its many eyes revealing a trace of confusion.
"These weak morsels… have no souls?"