I Was Abandoned by the Demon King I Served for 10 Years

Chapter 14

The moment came when duty could no longer suppress instinct.

All reason vanished from the thirsty Demons.

Only war! War! War!

Durin's power, sufficient to fill the void left by the Demon King, ignited the Legionnaires. It infused the soldiers with strength, delivering the most intense pleasure a Demon could feel.

"Durin!! Durin!!"

"Kaaaahhh!!"

The momentum of the Expedition Force swallowed the Rebel Army whole. Ambushed in the dead of night, they were crushed before they could react. From the moment they heard the distant battle cries, they had already sensed their defeat. Even the Southern Warriors realized firsthand just how powerful the Expedition Force's commander was.

"What are you doing! Stand your ground!"

"Hold!! Hold!!"

Rebel Army sub-officers, sensing the dire situation, drew their swords and shouted at the top of their lungs. But it was futile. Instead, their attempts to push the soldiers forward only disrupted the frontlines further.

"Kill them all!!"

The result was catastrophic for the Rebel Army.

Boom-!

"Aaaagh!"

The Demons at the forefront were smashed against the Legionnaires' shields. With blood-curdling screams, they were obliterated. Before the scattered blood could even soak the ground, the soldiers of the castle trampled over them with their boots. The mangled remains were buried in the silence of death.

There were no survivors.

Thud!

Crash!

Explosive sounds erupted from all directions. From the moment they lost the initiative, resistance became meaningless. Units that failed to form tight formations dissolved like sandcastles before a raging tide. A single clash was enough to shatter their ranks.

The Legion's Warriors would not miss such an opportunity. Even as they unleashed their instincts, they could read the flow of the battlefield. Their bodies, honed through years of training and battle experience, triggered a powerful urge to attack.

"Push forward! Do not stop until you claim their lives."

Verdia's words, spoken as she led the soldiers at the forefront, became the spark. The Legion abandoned even their shields, pouring everything into the attack. With war hammers in both hands, they crushed the tough-skinned Warriors. Clearing the path in one swift motion, their target came into view.

"So, you were there."

Verdia, who had just crushed a wolf rider charging to block her advance with her right hand, gazed beyond the mist of blood that scattered into the air. Among the soldiers clad in crude armor stood a man wearing leather greaves engraved with a peculiar pattern. He stood there, dumbfounded, unable to comprehend the unexpected turn of the battlefield.

At last, she had found the head she needed to claim.

"Aurela."

"Have you found it, Verdia?"

"Yes. I'll go for the head."

"Leave the army to me. I'll send a strike force to support you."

Without hesitation, Aurela signaled. Several soldiers adjusted their direction in response to her gesture. Together, they began marching toward the Rebel Army's command center. Verdia gripped her sword tightly and followed them.

"The true daughter of the Rock Mother, Verdia, is here!"

The voice of a Warrior filled with resentment echoed across the battlefield, drawing the Rebel Army's attention in an instant. She locked eyes with an elder Warrior. Seeing the panic on his face, she couldn't suppress her laughter.

I'll kill him right now. Verdia charged at him, consumed by a trance-like state.

......

"We must flee immediately. The traitor is heading this way."

"Great Chieftain, I will go out first to buy you time. Please, ensure your safety."

Gullan couldn't gather his thoughts. The immense shock had completely shaken his mind. This was not the war he had dreamed of. A miserable defeat would never be recorded in the epic tales of heroes. That was a fate reserved only for the enemy. He had tried ambushes, guerrilla tactics, and even lures to draw them into favorable positions. He had fought tirelessly, preparing for the inevitable conclusion.

The remnants of a defeated army, thoroughly crushed beneath the forces of a great Warrior. A sacrifice prepared for a predetermined victory.

He had always envisioned himself as the Hero standing amidst such a scene, the great Warrior of the South. But the ambition he had dreamed of was now on the verge of vanishing like dust in the wind.

And it was ending without even a proper battle, with nothing but plunder throughout the war. None of the strategies he had devised had succeeded, leaving him only to prove his incompetence.

Bang! Crash!

"Aaaagh!"

The Royal Guard that rushed forward to protect their master met a gruesome end. They became cold corpses before the enemy commander, unable to put up proper resistance. A few remaining brave soldiers thrust their spears to stop him, but they too were destroyed by the following Dullahan strike force.

"This can't be happening."

Even so, he didn't want to die like a coward trembling in fear. Reality said otherwise, but his mind refused to accept it. Having lost everything, Gullan wanted to turn away.

"Aaaahhh!!"

With a scream that was almost a wail, the Great Chieftain of the South drew his sword. The remaining distance was now less than fifty paces. At least once, he thought, he could swing his blade. As he forced strength into his trembling hands—

Thud!

A spear flew from somewhere and pierced his shoulder. The intense pain left him unable to even open his mouth. His sword clattered to the ground. The loud metallic sound signaled the shift in the battle's outcome. His collapsed body was now incapable of resistance.

"No, no...."

It was an ordinary soldier's spear. There was no clash of heroes. There was no tragic tale of a daughter and father. The miserable death he had dreaded was upon him.

As his final hope vanished, Verdia stormed in and swung her sword.

#

"The Rebel Army has been annihilated. The Barbarian forces that had been eyeing Ractelrun are no longer in sight."

At the same time, the city's Senate was receiving real-time reports of the battle through the Shaman.

Even though the Messenger repeated the same report twice, they couldn't believe it. Even after seeing and hearing the facts, it was hard to grasp.

One week. That was all it took for Durin's forces to devastate the Southern Continent and march triumphantly toward the enemy capital.

Conquest. Destruction. The war ended so quickly that the words they had spoken seemed meaningless. Watching the red dots disappear from the map, they could only laugh in disbelief.

"Even without the King... can the castle truly endure? This, this is so unbelievable that I can't help but laugh."

"Wasn't it thanks to the Regent that the naive Demon King could ascend the throne? Being called a Demon capable of standing against the Archangel alone, this outcome was inevitable. If anything, we should be ashamed. I don't know how we should face the Regent when he returns from the battlefield."

"Still, with Aurela stepping forward, I think it will be fine. She may not have achieved significant merit, but this battle has allowed her to prove herself to some extent."

"That's not for us but for the young ones who joined the Expedition Force. As nobles of the Senate, we must quickly find a way to survive. We must present the Regent with the answers he seeks if we want to live."

The old nobles of Ractelrun took no joy in their victory. With the enemy gone, they knew they would be next. Though the Defense Force had fulfilled its duty by driving out the Rebel Army and protecting the city, they themselves had accomplished nothing. If Durin found this displeasing and issued a harsh decree...

.....

No one wanted to witness such a scene. Thus, the Senate hurriedly racked their brains.

They first examined their responsibilities.

If they wished to retain their privileges in this city, they needed to rebuild the broken infrastructure. With the entire Southern border reduced to ashes, efforts to restore normalcy would surely be recognized by the castle.

Everyone focused on the agenda of the meeting.

"First, we must set up tents to house all the survivors. We can replenish food supplies from the spoils of war."

"No, the Southern Continent itself is likely to be annexed into the castle this time. With nearly hundreds of thousands of Southern Barbarians forced to migrate here from the wastelands, food shortages are inevitable."

"The Regent had devastated all the farmlands, calling it the land of rebellion. In the South, the only habitable land is essentially Ractelrun."

"It's hard enough to take care of ourselves. How are we supposed to look after them? Just exile them."

The situation was dire. They racked their brains to come up with a plan, but there was only one answer.

Support from the castle.

When Durin returned with news of victory, they would have to plead, "We are in such and such a situation, so please have mercy on us." If they failed, the only path left was to starve to death on barren land.

"In the end, our South can no longer sustain itself alone."

"Could this also be part of the Regent's design?"

"Perhaps a bit of both. Conquerors always find a way to gain more than one thing from a single land."

The seasoned Southern nobles had no choice but to accept it. The border cities had been saved from the rebellion, but at the cost of all the surrounding lands becoming wastelands, leaving them unable to stand on their own.

"There's no other way. We must accept the castle's rule and become a direct territory."

The positions and privileges they could gain from the Southern lands were only meaningful if they survived. Once the conclusion was reached, they acted swiftly.

The Ractelrun Senate sent a messenger to the expedition force on the Southern Continent. The main content of the message was a declaration that they would relinquish all sovereignty and submit to the Regent under the laws of the Demon Realm. In return, they requested that the tax collection rights over the lands held by the Southern nobles be guaranteed. If this condition was met, they promised to always provide the troops Durin required.

[The descendants of the Rock Mother are now yours, O Regent.]

This was the phrase written at the end of the parchment.

In a historic moment when the South, which had opposed the Central for centuries, sought to come under the castle's rule, an empty wind from the shattered embrace of the Rock Mother heralded the beginning of change.