Her legs felt soft, and her heart tightened into a knot she didn't quite understand. Still, she had to do what needed to be done.

Forcing herself forward, Abellona marched with the troops she was leading, her spear firm in hand. The air around her was thick with tension and iron.

She just couldn't let it go. The way things had ended with Damon ambiguous, uncertain left too many unspoken words lingering in her chest. There was so much she wanted to say, but so little time. That was why she chose to focus on what mattered most.

'Maybe this isn't the time… we can talk after we overcome the world dungeon.'

As she marched into the mist-shrouded main island, the air felt thinner, almost as though she were climbing a mountain.

Abellona did not have fond memories of fighting in mountainous terrain. Troops tired faster, formations faltered, and logistics became a nightmare. Supply lines were impossible to maintain, and any prolonged engagement meant disaster.

Unfortunately, this was not a functioning army. This was a coalition, a collection of adventurers, mercenaries, and desperate souls barely held together by the promise of reaching the dungeon gate. There was no time for proper preparation, no room for error.

The advance reconnaissance group had already secured the area, and the demons had yet to make a move. But Abellona knew better.

Fighting the demons in their fortress was the wrong approach. The objective was not to slay demons but to seize control of the dungeon gate. If Amon, the leader of the demons, had any tactical sense, he would be fortifying that very place.

She halted briefly, her eyes shifting toward Renata, who marched silently a few paces to her right. The violet-haired woman was calm as ever, seemingly untouched by the oppressive bloodlust that filled the air.

Abellona considered running her thoughts by her, but then came the sound.

"Growl…"

Low, guttural growls rippled through the darkness beyond the tree line.

Her eyes narrowed. "Where is the reconnaissance group?"

How could they have let something slip past without alerting the main force?

Then came the rumble. A deep, rolling quake that spread through the forest on all sides.

Abellona's instincts screamed. She didn't need a field report to know, Velora's scouts had been ambushed.

The forest erupted as the ground trembled. From the flanks, a tide of demon beasts burst forth, charging with unrestrained frenzy.

Abellona raised her spear high.

"Battle formation! Maintain formation! Maintain formation!"

The first beast crashed into the flank, its claws tearing through a soldier's neck. Blood sprayed as the flank broke, screams and chaos replacing order in a single heartbeat.

This was not a disciplined army trained to stand firm. It was a ragtag assembly of over seven thousand, bound not by loyalty or command, but by greed and desperation.

And as expected, the moment blood was drawn, the madness of battle took over.

The demon beasts charged with terrifying ferocity. Some breathed fire, others ice; some hurled acidic bile or slashing winds. Every variety of elemental power tore through the ranks, blurring the line between enemy and ally.

The uncoordinated army became its own worst enemy. Friendly spells exploded against their comrades; errant sword swings cut through allies. The rush to reach the front, to claim demon medallions and glory, only fueled the chaos.

It was a massacre of their own making.

From a distant rise, Damon—no, Amon—watched through the eyes of the shadows. He smiled. The pieces were falling exactly where he wanted them.

He had gathered their medallions, held their trust, and let arrogance lead them to ruin.

The army had already resented giving him their medallions, but they believed their sheer numbers would crush the demons easily. That arrogance had blinded them.

And now…

As the flanks faltered, the demon beasts suddenly turned and fled, vanishing into the darkness.

Abellona's eyes narrowed. Demon beasts were intelligent, yes, but not this organized. They never retreated like this unless directed.

Something was wrong.

"After them! Kill them all! Don't let them escape!" roared a scarred adventurer, blood streaming down his face as rage overtook him.

He charged forward into the treeline, and others followed adventurers, mercenaries, students, reckless fools, ignoring Abellona's orders, abandoning formation for vengeance.

The flank disintegrated completely. Hundreds broke off from the main army, rushing blindly into the forest after their retreating prey.

"Stop! Maintain formation!" one of Abellona's knights shouted, his voice drowned in the storm of magic and screams.

Spells rained across the frontlines, fire and lightning scattering the soldiers further apart.

Evangeline tried to reach the flank, but the mass of panicked troops made it impossible to maneuver. The army's strength in numbers had become its greatest hindrance.

The demons attacked again, from multiple directions this time. Without Velora Nyxfall's reconnaissance team, they had no idea how many enemies were surrounding them.

Abellona gritted her teeth, feeling command slipping away before the battle had even begun.

She spread her wings, her aura igniting as she soared above the chaos.

"Stay in formation!" she roared, her voice shaking the air. But no one listened.

Her eyes darkened. Fine then.

Her spear glowed blood-red as she unleashed a wave of scarlet energy. In an instant, those who had broken formation those too slow to obey, were turned into smoldering corpses.

The battlefield froze. Even the howls of demon beasts paused in the face of her wrath.

Her soldiers trembled as Abellona's glowing eyes swept across them, the promise of death heavy in her voice.

"Stay in formation, and march."

The surviving troops straightened at once, terrified into discipline.

From the shadows, Damon—Amon—watched with quiet satisfaction. Everything was unfolding perfectly.

He hadn't supported Abellona's appointment as commander out of faith. He had done so because she would lose. She was a commander bred for disciplined armies, not a mob of self-serving adventurers.

This outcome was inevitable.

Now the army was divided, and confusion had taken root.

Damon's goal was simple, kill as many as possible before they ever reached the open field leading to the dungeon gate.

And tonight, the chaos he had sown was only just beginning.

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