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

Chapter 8



Chapter 8

The Rebel Army opposing the castle.

The Hero's trail after taking the Demon King.

Two significant matters coincidentally discovered in the South. The shamans, sensing the unusual, began an investigation, but they couldn't find any connection between the two. Eventually, as they gathered at the observatory, they reached one conclusion.

It was a twist of fate.

Rudmila couldn't lift her head as she uttered these words.

A coincidence that would remain a topic of discussion for those tasked with the wisdom of the castle. However, for Durin, it was a heaven-sent opportunity. It was as though the festering issues had congregated in one place. There was no need to drag things out—he could end it all right there.

[Southern barbarians on the move. Battles erupting in various cities, including the border.]

Their timing was impeccable. Durin set the parchment down and rose from his seat.

His secretary, Spranches, quickly followed him.

"Shall I escort you? Should we head to the training ground?"

Durin proceeded down the castle's corridor.

"We'll go straight to the gate."

"I'll inform the troops to assemble immediately."

"There's no need. I'll lead them myself."

Durin dismissed Spranches' suggestion. He headed toward the Warp Gate in preparation for the expedition. Walking along the long corridor extending east from the King's Hall, he approached a massive door—the place that would mark the grand beginning of the expedition.

Clank! Clank!

The sound of Durin's boots echoed through the corridor. The sharp metallic noise signaled the start of war.

As he progressed from the King's Hall to the warp chamber, changes began to occur in the hundreds of knight statues guarding the corridor.

Crack—grind—

They were the elite Golden Guardians, turned to stone to protect the Hall. Though they had pledged their final moments to the king, they had lost everything in an instant. These demons in golden armor now accompanied Durin.

"Arise. The Regent moves."

Following them, Ghost Knights emerged. Pulling themselves from the portraits on the walls, they silently trailed behind Durin.

"We have been waiting."

Lastly, the Royal Guard of the expedition force, stationed near the warp chamber, awaited orders. The sluggish Dullahans, ensuring they wouldn't miss the expedition, had settled there a week in advance to inspect the supply materials.

"Is it operational now?"

Durin asked the shaman managing the gate. Instead of answering, she manifested magic energy in her hand.

A swirling black vortex enveloped the massive stone gate. The sticky, blood-like energy greedily consumed the space, soon forming the castle's emblem before their eyes. Occasionally, its pulsating waves clung to the surrounding area.

"Good. Cast the spell."

"If I may be so bold, Your Grace, is that one accompanying us as well?"

At the shaman's question, Durin turned around. Far behind the expedition force, a single demon was running frantically toward them.

Such was the urgency of its pace that the clamor of its footsteps echoed throughout the corridor.

"Your Grace! Your Grace!"

It was Verdia, the barbarian.

She called out to Durin anxiously, her voice thick with distress. Her large axe and backpack jostled behind her, suggesting she had prepared her own supplies for the expedition.

"Your Grace!"

"What should we do?"

"......."

Durin silently watched as Verdia, wobbling, joined the expedition force.

"Huff. Huff. Huff. My deepest apologies."

At last, with ragged breaths, Verdia reached Durin's side. Without a word, Durin turned away.

The massive Warp Gate that now stood before them faced not 800, but 801 individuals. It was the signal.

"May you return victorious."

With a motion of her hands, the shaman formed a seal. The magic energy lingering on the door transformed into a web, spreading into the room. The tendrils extended like tentacles, gripping Durin and his troops.

This signified that the Central and Southern regions had been perfectly connected by the energy. The shaman twisted her hands at that moment, and the web of magic energy swallowed Durin and his forces into the warp vortex.

Kwoooom—

With the sound of space being crushed, the demons before them vanished.

#

Ssshhh—

The sensation of magic energy tapping against his eyelids disappeared. It was a signal that the warp had been completed safely. Durin slowly opened his closed eyes. The vast mountains, unseen in the Central Continent, filled his vision, accompanied by a clear blue sky. This was a barren land, made solely of rock with no vegetation in sight. It was both the cradle of mighty warriors and the mother of those who opposed the current Demon King's Castle. Her welcoming presence filled the area surrounding the Southern Warp Gate.

"Fall back! Fall back for now! Hold the line until reinforcements arrive!"

"Reinforcements are here! Reinforcements! But are they really reinforcements?"

"Get a grip, you idiot. Just shoot your bow and shut up!"

The surroundings were drenched in blood. Traces of a fierce battle were scattered everywhere—spattered blood and shattered weapons. Under the red sun of the Demon Realm, they glistened like jewels. Amidst this, the familiar Castle Legionnaires and barbarians clashed, stabbing each other with spears and striking with shields. Those who lost arms bit their foes with their teeth, breaking horns in the process. These were the defensive forces fighting to protect the Border Gate a day's distance from Ractelrun, and the barbarians attacking in hopes of achieving a rebel victory.

To Durin, who had just set foot in the South, it was a scene unbearable for a demon.

"Prepare for battle."

"All troops! Prepare for battle!"

Without hesitation, Durin drew his sword. When he gave the order, the veteran of the Golden Guardians echoed his command. The voice was so loud it momentarily halted the ongoing skirmishes.

The clashing of swords diminished. Instead of the sharp sound of metal striking metal, weapons slid to rest against the ground. Both the Castle Legionnaires and the barbarians were affected. Those engrossed in the fight, oblivious to their surroundings, were taken aback by the sight of a force the size of a regiment.

Under the crimson sun, their golden armor gleamed. Their massive halberds and the presence of demons with fully intact heads—not the decapitated Dullahans typically seen—were daunting. Even the most battle-hardened inhabitants of the Border, uneducated in worldly matters, understood the significance of such a spectacle. Having lived their lives amidst war, they recognized the shadow of death that had drawn near.

"We have no need for prisoners. Kill them all. Rewards will be based on the number of heads brought back."

"All troops, charge!"

Bwoooo—!

The deep sound of the horn trumpet reverberated across the battlefield as the golden-armored demons began their advance. Alongside them, a hundred Ghost Knights wielding blunt weapons flanked their sides, while the Royal Guard followed, raising their war hammers in unison.

Their charge shook the heavens and the earth.

"The main force! The castle's main force is here!"

Unable to form a proper formation, the barbarians, overwhelmed by the sheer momentum, scrambled for survival. But the crushing impact of the advancing force shattered their disarrayed lines.

Beneath the halberds of the Royal Guard, a gruesome massacre unfolded. Though the barbarians had built strong physiques under the care of the Mother Rock, the castle's soldiers were veterans who had once fought angels. Despite their terror, they struggled to thrust their spears, but every attack was rendered futile.

A single reversal of the battlefield was enough. Visible terror consumed the battlefield.

"Retreat! Retreat for now! Inform the Great Chieftain! Send a messenger immediately..."

Screeeech—!

"Ugh!"

The warrior commanding the battle from the farthest rear suddenly had his neck pierced by a flying spear, killing him instantly. His head, unable to even let out a scream, fell lifelessly to the ground. The surrounding soldiers stared blankly at the lifeless corpse, exchanging glances with one another. Their last threads of sanity had snapped.

"R-run away!"

That desperate cry marked the beginning. The Rebel Army, leaving their bloodied vanguard and fallen leader behind, tried to flee the battlefield. There was no hope. They couldn’t even swing their swords properly. This wasn’t a battle. The honor of warriors no longer existed for them. Completely overwhelmed by fear, they flailed their arms and legs in a frantic attempt to survive.

"Aaaaargh!"

"P-please spare me… Ack!"

The backs of those who turned to flee were slashed open, and countless heads began to roll. Those who had managed to spot a chance to escape from afar were impaled by javelins flying in from somewhere. The few lucky ones who still clung to life were dragged away, clutching their heads.

There was no war here. Only a massacre, born of an overwhelming disparity in power. The ground was left with nothing but the desperate struggle marks of livestock being dragged away while crying out that they didn’t want to die.

"The Demon King's Royal Guard."

The words spilled from the mouth of one of the few remaining survivors. Born to fight angels, armed with energy to oppose divinity, these warriors of the Demon Tribe. To the eyes of the barbarians, the castle’s soldiers were an insurmountable wall. The sight of their comrades' heads piling up to form a tower didn’t even register in their minds. After all, they too would soon become part of that tower. But even that resignation didn’t save them from their pain.

"Gotcha! Here’s another one."

Thud!

There was no need for prisoners. Durin's orders were being carried out to the letter. Two swords pierced the shoulders of a Southern soldier who had lost the will to fight and collapsed. The gushing blood drowned out his screams. With a light kick, his head was severed, and the last remaining soldier became just another tally in their record of slaughter.

"Advance immediately. We continue forward until we sever the head of the one who attacked the city."

Leaving the swiftly cleared battlefield behind, Durin and his forces marched onward. Their goal was the complete liberation of the South and the satisfaction of an unbearable thirst.

Step! Step! Step!

Alongside the tower of severed heads left behind, the soldiers vanished into the distance. Only a few dazed legionnaires guarding the gate stood staring blankly after them.

The crimson-stained armor and the orderly march of booted feet.

They were building a new authority in the South.

The city of Ractelrun, located at the entrance of the Gray Desert on the southern border of the Demon Realm.

Governor Aurela let out a hollow chuckle, her expression one of disbelief. On the map she was looking at, countless red dots were scattered. The barbarian tribes outside were spreading out and attacking cities that relied on their walls for protection.

"That’s what I thought."

It was a scene she had been too afraid to confront. But the soldiers’ reports painted an almost surreal picture of salvation.

"The army from the gate crushed the barbarians."

"We sustained no casualties. The legionnaires should be able to return to their defensive positions without issue."

"It seems the barbarians are retreating their frontline."

The tide of the battle was shifting by the minute. With each messenger’s arrival, the collapse of the barbarians became more evident.

Some spoke with fearful expressions.

"They were an elite force composed entirely of the Royal Guard. Soldiers clad in golden armor swung their halberds, leaving the barbarians unable to resist."

"Golden armor?"

"Yes. I saw it clearly with my own eyes."

Aurela, born and raised in Ractelrun, had only ever heard rumors of the central lands.

Warriors clad in golden armor, loyal to the Demon King. The Royal Guard, composed entirely of Dullahans, were the elite of the elite, made up solely of High Demons. When she received the news from the shaman that the regent would personally lead an expedition from the castle, even then, she hadn’t dared to expect this. The army now present in the South far exceeded anything she could have imagined.

At that moment, Aurela snapped to her senses.

"So, where is the regent? If he has withdrawn, he must surely be at the castle."

"He went to survey the outer castle for any potential infiltrators after organizing the battlefield."

"Then he’ll likely return by evening. We must hurry to prepare a welcome for such an esteemed guest. As a noble of the South, I cannot sit idly in a time like this."

Aurela clenched her fists and rose from her seat. After enduring countless storms in the past week, she finally felt a sense of stability returning. While the current situation was too dire to host a banquet, she believed it was her duty as the castle’s steward to properly treat the soldiers who had traveled such a distance.

"Instruct the attendants to prepare food. Deliver it first to the Defense Force and reinforcements at the west gate, and then distribute it accordingly to the rest of the legionnaires."

"There’s no need for that. Everything has already been taken care of."

The rare energy that had filled the inner castle was abruptly extinguished by a cold voice. The low tone from across the conference room instantly dominated the atmosphere.

Aurela and the surrounding commanders whipped their heads around in shock. A figure clad in black armor was walking toward the central table through the now-open door, unnoticed until that moment.

Clang! Clang!

The metallic clangs accompanying each step sent chills down their spines. The blazing light in his eyes radiated overwhelming authority, forcing everyone to bow their heads. Aurela and the vassals of the South found themselves kneeling before they even realized it.

"From this moment, we will immediately engage in battle to subdue the Rebel Party. Meals will come after that."

"The enemy is heavily concentrated at the main gate. Their leader is likely at the forefront."

Durin paid no heed to their reverence. Without any embellishment, he listened directly to the report of an elderly soldier clad in golden armor.

"The South traditionally has its commanders lead the charge from the front. If I take him down, Ractelrun should be defensible for the time being."

"The main forces of the Rebel Party haven’t arrived yet. It seems this is a guerrilla unit intended to sow chaos in the city."

Aurela interjected during the discussion. Durin lowered his gaze to look at her.

"......."

"Ah! M-my apologies."

Meeting the regent’s eyes, Aurela immediately bowed her head to the floor. Realizing she’d spoken out of turn, she trembled in fear, worried she might incur his wrath.

"Explain."

Durin, as indifferent as ever, asked her calmly. Aurela, sweating nervously, stammered her response.

"Y-yes. I will report. The cause of this incident lies in none other than the Great Chieftain’s baiting tactics."

"Baiting tactics?"

"Y-yes, that’s correct. Initially, the Rebel Party appeared to be moving to cross the valley connecting the Central Continent and the southern mountain range. As a result, the South’s elite legion was deployed there."

"Explain with the map."

"Y-yes! I will do so."

Aurela sprang up as if propelled, standing at attention. From the tone of the conversation, it felt like a single misstep in her explanation could cost her life. She hurriedly pulled the map from the table and laid it out before Durin.

"Here it is. The vast Central Continent and the South can only be traversed through this valley."

"I am aware of that. By ‘the South’s elite forces,’ are you referring to the Great Chieftain’s army?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

Aurela nodded.

"The Border Legion has always been monitoring them, so on the day the king disappeared, they detected the South’s movements in advance and stationed all forces, except for the city defense units, along the defensive line."

"Then where did the forces outside originate?"

"They are nomads unaffiliated with any city. Normally, they maintain close trade relations with the Southern Great Chieftain. They exploited the absence of forces to launch a sudden attack."

"You didn’t anticipate the attack?"

"We thought it would be fine because they had sworn loyalty to us and had been paying tribute all this time…"

"…"

"Moreover, we still had some of the Legion's forces remaining, so we believed without a doubt that we would achieve victory."

"That wasn’t belief—it was complacency. You were negligent."

Durin’s voice calmly constricted Aurela’s neck. The Governor of Ractelrun flinched and bowed her head again in panic.

"P-please, grant us another chance. If you give us just a little more time, we can quickly deal with them…"

"There is no time. Rise, Governor."

"R-Regent…"

"I won’t say it twice. Go and inspect the soldiers."

"W-when are you planning to depart…?"

"Immediately. Move quickly."

At Durin’s words, Aurela jumped up like a startled foal with its tail set on fire.

"Understood!"

She clattered out noisily, shouting at the top of her lungs. It was quite an unbecoming behavior for a High-ranking Demon, but she didn’t have the luxury to care about appearances.

"She’s a frivolous one. Once this war is over, you should replace her."

"That’s for me to decide after observing further. Focus on your own duties."

"…As you command."

The soldiers accompanying Durin naturally cast disapproving glances. Having to fight alongside someone like her was enough to stir discontent among them.

However, their goal was liberation, not internal conflict in the South.

They needed to avoid unnecessary clashes at all costs. The soldiers acted according to Durin’s orders.

Without the pomp and ceremony typical of High Demons, they stormed the main gate and beheaded the enemy commander. That single fact alone served as their sole consolation.


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