The Battlefield of One Hundred and One Hundred Thousand
Morning fog lay thick across the plains outside Darkensport.
On one side stood a vast black sea of armored soldiers—over one hundred thousand extremist demon troops, their banners blotting out the horizon. Mana surged violently around them as their generals gathered, preparing to crush the rebellion.
Opposing them, before the gates of the Federation capital, stood Aethelred Vi Regis.
Behind him—only one hundred soldiers.
"My king… this is madness," one commander whispered, gripping his sword tightly.
"One hundred against one hundred thousand… even with magic, this is impossible…"
"Stay calm," Aethelred replied, his crimson-glowing eyes cutting forward.
"Do not measure the numbers. I will measure them. Stay behind me."
The extremist army began its advance.
The earth trembled beneath their march.
From the enemy command tent, the **Tenth General—Lord of Cruelty—**laughed mockingly.
"How pitiful. This is the end."
The frontline soldiers raised their spears.
Aethelred slowly lifted his right hand.
Shadows gathered around his palm. Dark mana condensed, spiraling into a sphere of pure annihilation. Even his most trusted retainers widened their eyes in shock—this power far exceeded anything they had imagined their king could wield.
"Witness…"
Aethelred's voice echoed across the battlefield.
"The Darkness That Refuses to Bow!"
With a single motion, he released it.
A colossal beam of darkness—like a midnight lightning blade—cleaved across the plains.
The explosion erased the frontline instantly… and kept going.
Thousands of soldiers were vaporized in an instant, their screams swallowed by the roar of destruction. Defensive formations shattered like toys. Commanders were flung aside as the beam carved a massive crater straight through the battlefield.
There was no enemy army left.
Silence followed.
Then—screams of terror.
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Panic in the Tent of the Cruel General
Inside the command tent, a soldier burst in, covered in ash and blood.
"G-General! Our troops… they're all dead! All of them!"
The Tenth General's eyes bulged in disbelief.
"Impossible! Over one hundred thousand soldiers—wiped out instantly?! What in the abyss happened?!"
Another officer whispered in terror,
"That power… that wasn't a demon… it was like a demon from the Abyss itself…"
The general cursed and slammed the table.
"Retreat! Pull back the remaining forces! If we stay, we'll be annihilated!"
They fled the battlefield, abandoning the corpses of their army—once-proud banners now symbols of fear.
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The Wrath of the Demon Lord
When the report reached the Demon Lord's throne, fury shook the empire.
"You lost one hundred thousand of my soldiers?"
His voice cracked like thunder, shaking the black palace itself.
The Tenth General knelt in chains, bowing deeply.
"Forgive me, my lord… please forgive—"
"Silence."
With a wave of the Demon Lord's hand, the general's insignia burned away from his armor. His rank was stripped. His name erased from history.
"You are no longer worthy of this empire."
The once-proud general was dragged away, his screams echoing through the halls.
The Demon Lord clenched his fist.
"Aethelred Vi Regis… you dare mock my empire with rebellion?
Then I will crush you myself."
---
The Celebration of Darkensport
In the Federation capital, the atmosphere could not have been more different.
Darkensport's streets overflowed with music and joy. Demon civilians waved the banners of the United Demon-Human Federation, praising their king.
"Long live King Aethelred!"
"Victory for the Federation!"
Inside the castle courtyard, Aethelred stood before the one hundred soldiers who had witnessed his power firsthand. Kneeling before him, their loyalty was absolute.
"You saw the enemy's numbers," Aethelred said calmly, his voice carrying authority.
"But numbers alone mean nothing. To fight for justice, freedom, and unity—that is our blade. Numbers are irrelevant."
He extended his hand, releasing deep magic. Shadow threads spread—not to enslave, but to empower.
"Accept this gift. My strength is your strength. With it, the extremist army will never break us again."
Each soldier felt overwhelming power surge through their bodies. Eyes widened, fists clenched.
"My king… with this power, we will follow you to the ends of Velgrith!"
---
Ripples Across the World
News of the Battle of Darkensport spread like wildfire.
In Silverwood Kingdom, nobles and adventurers gathered in hushed discussion.
"The United Demon-Human Federation grows stronger by the day…"
"Perhaps demons truly can change…"
The trade-focused Ironwood Kingdom sent envoys.
"If peace with demons is possible, stability will follow."
But in Mistwood and Flarewood Kingdoms, suspicion took root.
"This Federation is merely another hidden threat. Prepare for war."
The world began to shift.
All eyes turned toward Aethelred Vi Regis.
---
Blade Continues His Journey
Meanwhile, in Ironforge, Blade Lunaria (Shujin) prepared to depart.
The guild receptionist smiled, though sadness flickered in her eyes as she waved.
"Blade-san, you're truly unbelievable. Come back someday, okay?"
He smiled back.
"Sure. I'll bring even more grilled snake meat next time."
As Blade mounted his brown carriage horse, laughter filled the guild hall. Holding the reins, he gazed toward the distant road leading to Silverwood Kingdom.
Behind his smile, Shujin's mind was already calculating.
Step by step. Kingdom by kingdom.
Human or demon—it doesn't matter.
Darkness will guide them all.
The carriage rolled forward, wheels rattling over stone as Blade was carried toward the next stage of Shujin's grand design.
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✨ End of Chapter 10 ✨
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