Adrian’s starship docked at the Watchpoint’s eastern platform, a Runithian clan officer awaited them, all four silver eyes blinking in sequence as he analyzed the newcomers.

“Patriarch Adrian, Matriarch Kaelith.” The officer bowed, “The Council awaits you in the central chamber; Please follow me.”

They walked through corridors lit by harsh white light, passing squads of armored warriors and supply convoys.

The corridor opened into a wide atrium where the council chamber’s doors stood.

The officer gestured, “Inside.”

The doors parted.

…

The chamber was circular, dominated by a central holo-table that projected tactical data in rotating layers. High-backed seats ringed the table, most already occupied.

Adrian stepped inside, and the room’s atmosphere shifted instantly.

Thalren sat at the far end, his hand, which had been gesturing toward the projection, froze in place.

Beside him, Seraphis leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpened, pupils contracting as her senses probed Adrian’s presence.

To the left, Patriarch Arvion of the Starforge Clan straightened in his seat, his fingers twitching toward the datapad on the table.

And finally, the Runithian Stellar Lord sat near the projection controls, his four silver eyes blinking in rapid succession as he processed what he was sensing.

They all felt it.

Adrian’s presence was an absolute certainty that filled the room, dense and inescapable, like standing at the base of a mountain and knowing it could never be moved.

Seraphis’s mind raced, comparing the sensation to every powerful being she’d encountered across millennia of warfare.

The twin demons, the ancient cultivators who occasionally emerged from the deep Edge.

Even Thalren, who had entered the meeting planning to politely recommend the Origin Clan withdraw from Drakthor due to their “inexperience,” felt his mouth falter, “This is… not a warlord, this is something comparable to the ancient cultivators…”

Thalren quietly deleted every thought he had prepared; this meant he was already stronger than the warlords from the empire. He couldn’t suggest a being of this caliber withdraw.

Then Kaelith entered.

She walked behind Adrian, not beside him, her posture relaxed but unmistakably deferential.

Kaelith Duskbane, a battlefield monster who’d held sectors against demon hordes. She walked behind Adrian like an attendant following her superior.

Thalren cleared his throat, forcing his voice steady, “Patriarch Adrian, Matriarch Kaelith, Welcome.”

He gestured toward the empty seats, “Please.”

Adrian moved to the table, taking a seat across from Thalren. Kaelith settled beside him.

“Let us begin,” Thalren said. “The demons are gathering, Intelligence confirms millions of lesser demons, hundreds of commanders, multiple lords, and at least four warlords. Coordination is our first priority.”

He gestured, and the holo-projection expanded, layers of data unfolding in three-dimensional space.

Registered forces appeared: clan names, troop counts, Stellar numbers.

“Our combined forces currently field seventy-two Stellars and six Stellar Lords, drawn from Voidrender, Infinitus, and Duskbane Clans.” Thalren’s gaze swept the table, “Starforge and Runithian do not field combatants, their roles remain support and logistics.”

His eyes settled on Adrian, “Patriarch Adrian… we have no registry data for the Origin Clan. Please submit your numbers.”

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The request was a standard protocol, and from the origin clan, no one expected much.

Adrian’s node floated forward, and the registry updated. Seventy-two Stellars became eighty-seven, and Six Stellar Lords became seven.

The chamber went utterly silent.

Thalren stared at the projection, “Fifteen…” His voice came out strangled, “Fifteen new Stellars? And a Lord?”

Seraphis leaned forward, her eyes wide, “That’s impossible.”

Arvion dropped his datapad. It clattered against the table, the sound echoing in the silence.

For clans that had existed for millennia, gathering such numbers was the achievement of centuries. And a newborn clan had fifteen.

They all knew about the battle at the Origin Capital, even on that time, the Origin Clan hadn’t fielded this many Stellars.

“Did they hide everything from the start?”, the same thought went through everyone

Thalren’s fingers drummed the table, “Patriarch Adrian… these numbers are verified?”

“They are.” Adrian’s tone was calm.

Kaelith smiled faintly, the only person in the room unsurprised.

She’d seen it firsthand, the twelve Celestials, and then Thomas, Kael, Selena, and Elara were all Stellars now. Gary had even formed his second domain; others had condensed second seeds.

And beyond that… the SSS-ranks, her smile widened slightly, “Wait until they see what those warriors can do with their tattoos.”

Thalren forced himself to think, “This strength is… welcome.”

He gestured at the projection again, trying to regain control of the meeting, “However, it is still insufficient.”

The display shifted, showing demon force estimates.

“Our numbers are formidable, but the demons gather millions, led by hundreds of commanders and multiple warlords. We’ll need to call minor clans and hire mercenaries to fill the gaps.”

Even a top clan only had this much of stellars, usually stellars are pride full beings and don’t always join a top clan; even if some want to, the top clans would only select those who are truly strong enough.

And most stellars would start their own clan, that is how the galaxy have so many minor clans. And even minor clans had to serve the frontlines under imperial law; no one can escape that.

For individual stellars, the clans can hire them as mercenaries.

Thalren continued, “And currently, we only have three Warlords: myself, Seraphis, and Adrian. But the demon army has four Demon Warlords; we need one more.”

For this type of situation, they had to appeal to the empires for reinforcement. Warlords never do mercenary work. The projection flickered, showing imperial contact channels.

Kaelith’s voice cut through the room, “That won’t be necessary.”

A faint shadow rippled across her arm, and the darkness bloomed behind her, expanding into three overlapping domains.

Kaelith had always been known as dual-essence, fire and ice. Now they saw three domains.

Kaelith hadn’t wasted the eighty years inside the Time Field. She’d selected which essence complemented her existing mastery and comprehended shadow from the Knowledge Spheres, building her third domain through relentless refinement.

It was weaker than her fire and ice, but it was still an advanced galactic concept with which she could manifest a domain, and that made her a Warlord.

Thalren nodded slowly, “Then it’s settled. Four Warlords stand on our side.”

He gestured at the projection, “But still, I will apply to the empires. The demons could gather more.”

No one objected.

The meeting continued, “We are not certain why the demons are gathering. It could be that they found something on the Edge, or they intend to conquer the Nyseren sector outright. If they break through here, they will cascade directly into Vaelmir and Drakthor. The Nyseren sector stands between all three.”

The holo-table shifted, showing the sector map and potential invasion routes.

“And even if their plan is a siege,” Thalren continued, “they could also fake here and target Drakthor or Vaelmir first. But that would require the demons to rotate through the deeper parts inside the Edge, which I highly doubt they would risk.”

Seraphis leaned forward, “The deep Edge is unstable; even demons avoid prolonged travel there.”

“Agreed.” Thalren pulled up fortification schematics, “We focus defenses here, at the primary breach points. Voidrender will hold the northern line, Infinitus takes the south, Origin with Duskbane should reinforce the center.”

The discussion shifted to fortifications, formations, and deployment schedules. Arvion outlined weapon shipments from Starforge forges. The Runithian Lord detailed surveillance grids and skill scroll production.

Hours passed.

The meeting finally concluded. Thalren rose, “We need to gather our troops within twelve hours, prepare your forces.”

The council dispersed.

…

Meanwhile, in the Demon sector, four Demon Warlords knelt before the black throne of their Emperor.

Behind them, the Demon Lords knelt in silence, trembling.

Voren finally spoke, “Your Majesty, the empires should have detected the gathering; they should be preparing their forces.”

The Demon Emperor smiled faintly, “Let them prepare.”

He raised a single finger, “Send a million lesser demons, and a hundred commanders will lead them.”

The warlords exchanged glances, confusion rippling through the assembled lords behind them.

A million lesser demons and a hundred commanders; nothing more?

What about the demon lords? The warlords themselves?

One of the warlords dared to ask, “My Emperor… is it to test the empire’s forces?”

The Emperor laughed, “No.”

He leaned forward, eyes glowing with dark amusement, “I simply want to watch.”

His gaze swept across the kneeling figures, “The Origin Clan fascinates me, their tattoos… their resonance network… such delightful innovation.”

From Azrael’s devoured memories, he’d seen everything, and now, he wanted to see it himself.

“I wish to see,” the Emperor continued, his smile widening, “how well Adrian’s toys perform in a real battle.”

Voren and Aren trembled, eager to witness what their Emperor found so amusing.

The other warlords bowed deeper, “As you command, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor leaned back, his eyes narrowing toward the distant void, “Amuse me, anomaly. Show me your worth.”

The Demon Emperor was treating this first wave like an appetizer.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep