Chapter 324: 324

As a cursed spirit, Phanthom’s instincts told him that he would be greatly rewarded if he helped Malzor achieve his ambition. Yet the reality of the situation made the goal seem close to impossible.

Currently, Phanthom was in the abyss, floating and sitting cross-legged in front of a portal. His yellow eyes glowed as he looked beyond the portal and the walls the goblins had built.

In his glowing eyes, he could see the flames of ambition. Having spent enough time among demons, wielding and getting used of his own powers, Phanthom had learned to predict bold moves based on the flickers in those flames.

Right now, he noticed multiple flames flickering beyond the walls built by the goblins. Phanthom stretched out his hand, grasping a yellow light only he could see.

Through his connection with the light, he faintly heard whispers. The words were difficult to make out due to the distance from the abyss, but he caught phrases like, “I wonder how much my rank will rise if I perform well in this push.”

The glow in Phanthom’s eyes faded as he flew off, his wings beating softly as he made his way to Malzor’s quarters. When he arrived, he didn’t bother to knock, entering to find Malzor deep in thought, his hand resting on his chin.

“The goblin army is preparing to attack,” Phanthom said, breaking Malzor’s concentration. Malzor immediately stood up, waving his hand to summon a view of the goblin world, yet he saw no signs of movement.

Malzor’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the image. He trusted Phanthom’s instincts—Phanthom had never been wrong before. The fourth-stage gargoyle had already taken command of the demonic forces, but despite this preparation, unease lingered in the air.

“Ready your forces,” Malzor growled into the communication link. “The goblins are planning something bold. We can’t afford to be caught off guard.”

The gargoyle’s voice, deep and gravelly, echoed back, “We are prepared, my lord. Their movements remain silent, but we will strike as soon as they reveal themselves.”

Malzor cut the link and turned to Phanthom, whose wings beat softly behind him.

“They’re waiting for something,” Malzor muttered, pacing the room. “But what? An opportunity? A weakness? Do they know we’re ready for them?”

Phanthom was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant. “The flames of ambition flicker, but they don’t burn with certainty,” he finally said. “It’s as if they are conflicted. Some of the goblins are eager, ready to climb the ranks, but others hesitate.”

“Internal division,” Malzor mused, a cruel smile curling his lips. “It seems their ranks aren’t as unified as they’d like us to believe.”

Phanthom tilted his head thoughtfully. “If we strike before their unity solidifies, we could break their resolve before their attack even begins.”

Malzor’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Yes. A preemptive strike.”

“Perhaps…” Phanthom began slowly, “but since our troops cannot move freely beyond the eroded lands, I propose we use the cannon fodder with third-stage demons for this move.”

“The cannon fodder will provide a distraction and allow the third-stage demons to engage the goblins freely before pulling back, their death will allow the needed freedom of movement for the third stage demons. The eroded land is our advantage. If we can pull the goblins into it, we may stand a better chance.”

Malzor hesitated. “Your plan sounds simple, but what makes you think the goblins and ogres will fall for it? Once we make a move, they’ll realize it, and all they have to do is fall back.”

“Leave that to me,” Phanthom replied, flying out through the open roof. Malzor watched Phanthom’s retreating form as he disappeared into the dark sky. Unease gnawed at the demon lord’s mind. There was something in Phanthom’s words, something hidden beneath the surface.

“What is he planning?” Malzor muttered, resuming his pacing.

The older demon had always been valuable for his foresight and tactical acumen, but this time there was a different edge to his confidence—an unsettling calm that left Malzor wary. Phanthom’s abilities were vast and often shrouded in mystery. Though Malzor trusted him as much as he trusted anyone, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Phanthom was operating with motives yet to be revealed.

Malzor shook his head, dismissing the thought for the moment. There was no time for doubt. The plan itself had merit. Sacrificing the cannon fodder to mask the third-stage demons’ movements and luring the goblins and ogres into the eroded land—it was a solid strategy.

“Whatever you’re up to, Phanthom,” Malzor whispered under his breath, “it had better work.” He immediately relayed the strategy to the fourth-stage demon.

The fourth-stage demon began reshuffling the army immediately upon receiving the command. Malzor’s army was a blend of demon races from their abyss. Unlike the other two demon kings, he hadn’t had time to grow his own army; nonetheless, his strength and that of the other gargoyles helped subdue other races.

Down on the goblin side, an ogre on the newly built wall stood with a telescope, observing the sudden movement of the demons. Activating the communication hub built into his armor, he relayed an image of the movement to the goblins in the tower.

The goblins, meanwhile, were arguing with what seemed to be a higher-ranking ogre. An ogre with flames leaking from his eyes slammed his hand on the table. “Why should I hand command over to you when it’s my army that will be spearheading the attack?”

The goblin tower master, equally annoyed, pointed his staff at the ogre. “You brutes know nothing of warfare except for brute force. The army we’re dealing with isn’t one we can overwhelm by sheer strength.”

The ogre with flaming eyes rolled his eyes. “If you’re so smart, then why did you request our help from the emperor instead of using your wits to solve the enemy problem?”

The tower master, confused by the ogre general’s words, was about to respond when the image was relayed to both of them. The ogre general immediately stood up and rushed toward the wall in the room they were in.

The goblin mage raised his hand to stop him but thought better of it. Instead, once the general approached the wall, it opened up, and the ogre fell from the tower with a predatory smile on his face.

The tower master looked back at the image, frowning. The demons hadn’t made any moves in months since their last encounter, during which his tower shield had seemingly scared them off.

The pullback by the demon army had led the goblin master to think he was fortunate enough to be facing a weaker side of the invasion, as past knowledge indicated this was normal.

Now, with the demons on the move, it showed they had some kind of confidence or plan. The tower master’s staff appeared in his hand as he relayed a message to all the mages around the tower.

The mages, receiving the message, began moving, leaving their rooms and heading toward the wall to join the ogre general. The ogre general was already on the wall, shielding his eyes with his hand as he squinted to observe the demons’ movements.

A roar came from the demons as they began advancing. The sight made the general and the ogres frown as they watched the demons push past the eroded land, only to be killed by the world’s repulsion.

Yet, that didn’t stop the demons as they stepped over their companions’ bodies, further eroding the land in their favor. Seeing the demonic horde moving toward them, the general knew he couldn’t allow that to continue. He roared out, “Open the gates!” The gates creaked open as the general jumped from the wall, landing beside an ogre who held a massive scaled warhorse for him to mount.

The ogre army stood in position, lined up and waiting for the general to make his move. Meanwhile, the goblin mages were chanting a spell that washed over the ogre troops.

As the goblin mages’ chanting filled the air, a soft glow enveloped the ogre army. The magic was a reinforcement spell designed to augment the ogres’ already formidable strength and offer some protection against the demons’ cursed terrain. The flames in the general’s eyes blazed brighter, and his muscles bulged beneath the weight of his armor as he mounted the massive, scaled warhorse.

The gates groaned open, and the ogre general led the charge out of the fortress walls. His army of ogres, emboldened by the spell and their natural battle frenzy, followed closely behind, their heavy footfalls shaking the ground as they advanced. Each ogre was equipped with massive weapons—war hammers, clubs, and spiked shields—while the warhorses they rode were clad in heavy armor, their scales gleaming under the pale sky.

From the fortress walls, the goblin mages maintained their support, their chants shifting to offensive magic. Bolts of fire and electricity arced from their staffs, crashing into the advancing demon horde. But the demons, undeterred by the mages’ bombardment, continued their relentless push forward, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades as they crossed the eroded lands.

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