While he led the remaining three Werewolf-Heroes they exchanged quick, tense glances. Although they were predators themselves, Verial's decisiveness surprised them. The Werewolf-Mage spoke up cautiously.
"Chief, shouldn't we ask for support from the Red Blood Hero Association in the city of Aethelgard? It's a powerful organization with dozens of heroes, and with their support, our chances would rise to a hundred percent!"
Verial shook his head violently, his eyes flashing with impatience.
"Aethelgard is too far; they won't get here in time, and this demon won't wait. Besides, I haven't officially agreed to join their ranks yet. I don't intend to share the loot with a bunch of bureaucrats who might refuse to help us now anyway. Besides, why do we need them? Our current power is already more than enough!"
Hearing this, no one dared to raise further objections. Verial was the boss here, and his authority - backed by the brutal strength of a Level 2 Hero - was indisputable.
Additionally, the vision of an undead Demon King multiplying his forces at such a terrifying pace served as a powerful motivator. Everyone knew that if they didn't strike now, in a week they might wake up surrounded by thousands of bone soldiers.
In their eyes, the outcome of the battle was already a foregone conclusion. The Blood Fang tribe could field an army ten times larger than Kaelen's scouting party. The fact that a few warriors managed to escape the Canyon was proof of Lilith's weakness to them.
If this Demon King were truly powerful, no one would have escaped, Verial thought, having no idea that the surviving werewolves were simply too primitive to understand the succubus's cunning.
It never crossed their minds that the spirits had vanished only because Lilith turned off the towers to save gold and give them a "chance" to bring reinforcements.
A few hours later, the moment of departure arrived.
"FORWARD!" Verial roared.
Behind him moved a mass of fur, fangs, and steel. Verial gathered 750 elite werewolves and 150 warriors from vassal tribes, making a total army of 900 combat units. As he looked at this massive procession, he was filled with a sense of absolute fulfillment.
For the past half-month, things had gone too well for them to be any different now. He had taken over the tribe, crushed resistance in smaller villages, and was now going for his biggest prize.
He was certain of one thing: after conquering the Valley of Darkness, his power and position in this world would be unquestionable. He just didn't know that Lilith had already prepared a "special offer" for him in her mine...
Elina sat in a cramped, primitive hut, guarded by two tall sentries who never took their eyes off her trembling rabbit ears. Verial wasn't stupid - though he craved her talent, he didn't trust the new Heroine enough to take her on such an important expedition.
Looking through the gaps in the boards at the departure of the Blood Fang army, Elina felt a paralyzing chill. It only now hit her how brutal and unfair the hierarchy among Heroes truly was.
She, with her "exceptional" talent, was rotting in detention, while Verial commanded a power that could wipe any village he encountered off the face of the earth.
That Demon King has no chance, she thought bitterly.
The stronger the opponent, the more experience points and resources Verial would snag after killing them. If this expedition succeeded, the werewolf chief would become an unstoppable monster, and her chances of escape would drop to zero. She felt a wrenching disappointment; she realized that without a powerful army or unbelievable luck, her dreams of being a top-class heroine were just a fantasy.
***
About half a day later, the floor of the Canyon trembled under the weight of hundreds of paws. Verial's army reached the place that had become Kaelen's grave.
"Chief, this is it. It's in this cursed ravine that our people were slaughtered," one of the commanders reported, pointing to the high cliffs.
Verial, with a cold gaze, narrowed his eyes, analyzing the terrain.
"It's no wonder they were almost completely murdered. This place is perfect for an ambush. However, the same defeat will not happen twice. We won't be caught off guard by a stupid flock of spirits."
Verial nodded with pride. "Let the priests prepare the weapons! I didn't conquer those midgets just for them to stand idle now!"
A group of Dark Gnomes stepped out from the ranks. They were a physically weak race that Verial had incorporated into his army as support units. Although useless in direct combat, their weapon-enhancement magic was a powerful force multiplier for the entire pack.
The priests began to mutter incantations, and the werewolves' sword blades and spearheads began to glow with a pale, magical light. Since the Demon King's servants were spirits with high physical resistance, enchanting the weapons was the simplest and most effective solution.
The magic would allow them to cut through the ethereal bodies of the apparitions as easily as if they were made of butter.
"Remember!" the Werewolf-Mage shouted. "These spells don't last forever. The priests must repeat the ritual, which exhausts their mana. We can't waste a single second! We must break through this canyon instantly!"
"You heard him?!" Verial roared. "Run! Crush those towers and bring me the head of that corpse!"
Verial raised his massive club, which flared with an unnatural, bloody fire under the enchanters' spells. He roared so loudly that even the nearby rocks shook:
"The Demon King of the Eternal Valley of Darkness plans to devour our home and conquer the entire forest! Heroes of the Blood Fang Tribe, the time for glory has come! Follow me to crush this corpse and his servants!"
He was answered by the choral howling of several hundred throats. The fighting spirit in the werewolves' ranks burned with a bright flame. Verial, confident in his power, took the role of the vanguard and led this destructive procession into the pass.
Soon, the four Obelisks of Cursed Spirits came into their view.
The sight of these silent monoliths cooled the warriors' zeal for a moment, but the valley's defense mechanism did not wait for their decision. The towers flared with black light, and hundreds of malevolent spirits poured from their depths.
With an eerie scream that tore at their eardrums, the apparitions plunged into the invading army.
"Grudge spirits!" someone shouted from the back.
Verial, however, instead of panicking, loosened his grip on his club and bared his fangs. The information from the scouts was accurate. Since they knew what they were facing, these few hundred wraiths were merely an obstacle, not a death sentence.
"KILL THEM! WIPE THEM OUT TO THE LAST ONE!" the Chief roared. "FORWARD! FOR THE HEAD OF THE DEMON KING!"
The Blood Fang tribe struck the swarm of spirits with unrestrained fury. This time, however, the fight looked completely different than during the slaughter of Kaelen's squad.
The werewolves' enchanted weapons sliced through the ethereal bodies of the apparitions like physical matter. Whenever a spirit tried to self-destruct, the Enchanters' powerful discharges of protective magic suppressed the blast's momentum, and the wounds of injured warriors immediately closed under the influence of the priests' regenerative spells.
The werewolves pressed forward, forming an unstoppable wedge. Grudge spirits were torn to shreds time and again. Verial stood slightly back with his elite hero-commanders, arms crossed, watching the slaughter with superiority.
"Hahaha! Is that all they're capable of?!" Verial burst into loud laughter, seeing his warriors massacring subsequent waves of the undead. "And I thought this Demon King had prepared something that would at least make us sweat!"
"These spirits might be annoying because of their numbers," the Werewolf-Hero added. "But with our support and enchanted weapons, they can't even slow us down. Victory is only a matter of time."