Darkensport Plains — Border of the Great Demon Empire
The dawn sky burned crimson, like blood reflecting the flames of war.
More than two hundred soldiers of the United Demon–Human Federation stood in perfect formation on the plains near Darkensport. Their armor was mismatched—some purely demonic, others hybrid demon-human—but their eyes all shone with the same resolve.
Before them, the army of the Great Demon Empire spread across the horizon. More than ten thousand troops, their war banners fluttering like a dark storm.
An Imperial general laughed from atop his mount.
"So this is the so-called powerful Federation? Only two hundred men? How pitiful."
A Federation general merely smiled quietly.
"You'll see soon enough."
---
Command from Afar
Far from the battlefield, within his throne chamber, Aethelred Vi Regis stood before a glowing violet magic circle. The spell of Mind-Link Communication connected him directly to his frontline officers.
"Report the situation."
A frontline commander saluted.
"Your Majesty, the enemy force numbers at least ten thousand. They are surrounding us from the east and south."
"Good," Aethelred replied calmly. His voice was steady—cold, analytical—the voice of a strategist already holding victory in his grasp.
"Order the troops to perform a feigned retreat. Pull back as far as possible toward the southern edge. Once their formation collapses, deploy the second phase—release the magic units."
The commander blinked.
"A feigned retreat? But they'll think we're fleeing!"
"That's the point."
Aethelred's eyes glowed with demonic pride.
"The arrogant always chase what appears weak. Let them come closer—then crush their core."
The officer bowed deeply.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
---
The Battlefield
The Federation forces fell back slightly—each step precisely measured.
The Imperial general roared with laughter.
"Hah! They're running! Forward! Charge them down!"
Thousands of soldiers surged ahead, war cries echoing across the plains.
Then—
The ground beneath them ignited with violet, arcane light.
"Now!" the Federation commanders shouted.
From the hills, hundreds of magic bolts and blazing firestorms rained down, tearing through the heart of the Imperial army. Screams echoed endlessly.
A Federation captain raised his blade.
"Formation Beta! Encircle from both flanks!"
The small but elite Federation force—trained under Aethelred's magic—moved like flowing shadows.
Within minutes, an army of over ten thousand fell into total chaos.
The enemy commander screamed,
"Impossible—this power—!"
He never finished.
Dark lightning split the heavens.
"For King Aethelred! For the Federation!"
---
After the Battle
Hours later, the plains fell silent. Smoke drifted toward the horizon.
The Federation had lost only twenty-three soldiers.
The Great Demon Empire suffered over seven thousand dead, with more than two thousand captured.
Before a floating magic circle projecting Aethelred's image, the surviving soldiers knelt.
"Your Majesty," the frontline commander reported, bowing deeply.
"We have secured the territories surrounding Darkensport."
Aethelred smiled faintly.
"Excellent. Raise our banner over that land. Let this be remembered as the Federation's first victory."
"Your Majesty… the people are celebrating. The soldiers say they would die gladly fighting for you."
Aethelred's voice softened.
"Tell them this:
A victory without purpose is meaningless.
We do not fight for glory—but to create a world where demons and humans can breathe freely, without chains."
The soldiers bowed in unison.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
---
Darkensport — A Growing Federation
At the newly constructed Darkensport harbor, Ironwood merchants had begun to arrive. The first merchant stepped off his ship, staring in awe as Federation soldiers helped unload cargo.
"So it's true…" he murmured.
"The Federation is really building a nation… demons and humans working together."
A demon guard smiled.
"Welcome to Darkensport. You won't find war here—only trade and peace."
The merchant nodded slowly, astonished.
"…Then the world really is changing."
---
Citadel — Silverwood Kingdom
Back in Silverwood, Citadel City was alive—yet tense. Taverns buzzed with talk of the Federation's first great victory.
Some praised Aethelred as a hero.
"Can you believe it? A demon king fighting for peace!"
Others scoffed.
"Peace? Don't be stupid. It's all a lie. You can never trust demons."
Amid the noise, Blade quietly departed the city. His cloak fluttered behind him as his horse raced down the forest road leading toward Silverwood's capital.
He heard the rumors—but ignored them.
"Everything is moving according to plan," Shujin whispered.
"As the Great Demon King takes each step, blood will inevitably spill. But once even the gods begin to watch… the real game will finally begin."
Blade looked up at the sky. Golden light pierced through the clouds.
"Then we'll watch them too," he murmured.
"Because before this ends… both Heaven and Hell will have to be remade from the beginning."
His horse surged forward, the forest wind carrying the scent of war—and fate.
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✨ End of Chapter 18 — The Federation's First Victory ✨
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