Alaster spoke for the first time to the soldiers of Onigas at the wall.

"Organize a clean up crew to dispose of the dead, both our own, and the Demons. Any hostility will be met with mine."

They immediately got to work forming the crew, both out of fear, and because Alaster was technically in charge.

Officers began yelling to get their men in line and they obeyed. Luckily, the Officers took the initiative to form the crew with noncombatants. The defenders of Onigas had many. Someone had to haul the ammunition, injured, weapons, armor, and materials up and down the walls.

Alaster returned to his spot on the tower, watching the Demons form their own crew.

After a few minutes, the gates of Onigas opened for the first time in several days. As it did, the pile of bodies shifted, falling into the place the gate had blocked, nearly hitting the Human crew.

Alaster could hear the workers' groans of displeasure, but they did not hesitate to get to work. As they did, Alaster sent a quick message to the City Lord about the truce and its purpose. There wasn't really anything he could do about it, but Alaster figured the man would like to know what's happening to his city.

A few minutes later, a crew of two dozen Devils and six Argalon left the palisades of the Demon Siege camp. They wore no armor and wielded no weapons, at least from what Alaster could see. That, of course, did not mean they were harmless. Magic was a powerful weapon and typically needed no tool, and every Human Soldier atop the wall had seen an Argalon rip a man in two with their bare hands.

The Demons started their work on their end of the battlefield, working together to haul the bodies over in neat lines. A pair of Devils took it upon themselves to attempt matching body parts to their bodies. A fruitless effort in Alaster's eyes, but he would not interfere.

Keeping an eye on the two crews, Alaster turned his attention to the abandoned warehouse, where his sister and her friends were currently working.

The Children had created short stone walls creating an organized office space, including chairs, tables, and even a waiting room. A handful of Forgotten, who had not yet been given a Legion, ensured obedience and peace.

Watching through the eyes of a Shadow, he watched as one by one, a Native Undead would climb through the hole in the ground, be directed to the statue by a pair of Forgotten, and once the Undead had sworn themselves to Alaster, via the statue, only then were they allowed through a curtain guarded by another pair of Forgotten.

Now in the waiting room, they could sit in one of the stone chairs provided, or whatever. So long as they did not attack each other or attempt to break out, no one cared. Past the waiting room, through another curtain, were the children, each at their own desk with a stack of papers.

The children questioned the Undead, writing down anything of importance. Once the child was satisfied with the extent of the questioning, the Undead would be shown the door, where a courtyard lay with tall stone walls and a large portion of which was covered.

There were plenty of Undead Species that preferred the shade and darkness over the bright warm sun.

Another Undead would be permitted through the curtain from the waiting room and motioned towards the child with the free spot and the process would repeat. It was tedious work, but it had to be done. Unfortunately, Alaster was required at the wall, so he could not do it. Luckily, it provided the perfect excuse to keep Evelyn away from danger. Her friends were just an added bonus that made the work smoother.

Most of the Undead seemed to be Death Knights, each one wearing similar armor. However, Alaster also spotted a few Ghouls, Zombies, a handful of Liches, and even another Wight.

Alaster wished to speak with the Wight as Nickolos had been an interesting person. Someone who had been around for centuries. Who knew what sort of person the Wight was? But circumstances prevented their conversation at the moment.

Perhaps Nickolos knew this Wight. Considering their rarity among the Undead and their age, it would not be surprising if most Wights knew each other.

Unfortunately, Alaster was unable to ask Nickolos as he was currently spreading word of Alaster and his recruitment throughout the Deep.

Alaster took the moment of temporary peace to check in on his other bodies, Legates, and Lezrum.

Lezrum had been tasked with fortifying the city streets, creating as many chokepoints, dead ends, and traps as he could. With his hordes of Undead, he could handle multiple projects at once.

Alaster mentally connected with the Shadow that followed Lezrum everywhere, "How goes the project?"

Lezrum looked up from a map of the city laid out on a desk outside. The map was merely outlined, with no details, but it was enough for the Lich to plan.

"Well enough I suppose. It would of course be faster if I had some help from the Humans, but we are making progress. I decided it would be best to start at the City Lord's castle and branch out from there. The idea is that every street will be some type of obstacle that will spill Demonic blood.

However, the effectiveness of all this will be determined by how long the wall holds, and how costly the defense of the walls are."

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"Should the walls fall, the hope is that we can retreat to the City Lord's Castle while making the Demons pay for every step. If your makeshift traps and defenses can make that even a drop more, I would consider it a success."

Lezrum laughed, a bone scraping chittering that would send chills down a normal person's spine, "Oh they'll get a drop. That much is certain. By the way, just a quick question, how pissed off would the City Lord be if I hid a Zombie Hulk or eight under the streets throughout the city?"

"If the Demons breach the walls, the city is lost, I doubt he will care. Just make sure anything you do can't do any harm to the Humans."

"I will do my best," Lezrum mock saluted before mumbling, "Though I am usually the one doing the harm."

Alaster rolled his eyes and moved on to his Legates, starting with the commander of his First Legion.

"Catherine, any news?"

Several moments passed without a response.

'Strange. If she was killed, I would know, and there should be no way to interfere with our telepathy.'

Alaster was about to repeat his question when Catherine finally responded.

"Sorry Master. It can be pretty difficult to hear my own thoughts when those BRT's are going off. And they have not quieted since they began."

"I assume that means they are effective?"

Catherine giggled, a cute sound that certainly would have plucked the heartstrings of many a young man, had they not heard the context, "I want one! Sir, they are beautiful. The destruction they can cause is amazing. We turned the entire Trench line into a crater. We must have relocated at least a few thousand tons of dirt and rock by now. And don't get me started on the number of Demons we have killed."

"They are still pushing?"

"Well the BRT's have to cool off after an hour of focused firing and it takes a few hours to cool off enough for them to be useful again. So we try to time their cool off times for when the enemy stops, and they try to advance when they are cooling off. It's a little game.

Either way, for every inch they push forward through the trenches, the infantry and their Golems make sure to make them pay a hefty toll for it.

Unfortunately, the Demons are making ground. They are struggling against the firearms and cannons, but they are skilled Warriors and Mages. And they seem to have a infinite amount of reinforcements. It seems like every day another army joins them."

"Probably because that's exactly what's happening. Just do you best to aid them without using your Legion. But also don't forget to continue your Legion's training. When we do finally use them, I want to make sure they are as elite as they can be."

"Will do Master."

"One last thing. Don't stick your neck out for Zalar. If the city is a lost cause, leave. Go to another Zalarian city. So long as they don't capture the capital, I don't care. If necessary, use the tunnels come to me. And as a last resort, destroy the Zalarian entrance."

"But sir, the tunnel could be the last route of escape for the Zalarians if their Capital is attacked."

"That is a shame, but I will not risk the security of Galmore and or Onigas for them. If evacuation is the last resort, get as many through as you can, but do not risk the tunnel's capture. If fact, if you see a way to destroy the tunnel entrance in a way that the Demons won't find it, that would be ideal."

Catherine was quiet for a moment, "Understood sir."

"Good. Now, do you have any idea what John is up to? Its been a while since I checked in with him and you know him, he has a tendency to wonder."

"I think the last time I spoke with him he mentioned going to Galmore."

"Galmore? What for?"

Catherine mentally shrugged, "You would have to ask him that."

Alaster sighed, "Alright, I will let you get back to work. I have to figure out where John is and what he is doing. Keep me updated."

"Yes Master."

Alaster took a moment to check in with his real body, glancing at the progress the two cleanup crews were making. They had barely made a dent, but it had been less than an hour, so he was not surprised.

Alaster returned to his check ins, speaking with each one of his Legates. John was apparently in Galmore helping Tom and Mike train the recruits. Alaster wondered why John thought that would be the best use of his time in this age of war, but since John was using his Legion to help train the recruits, in turn training the Legion, Alaster did not care.

He did not have anything better for John to do anyway, and it helped to have a military presence throughout. That way it would be much harder for anything unpleasant to surprise him.

The check-ins with his Legates went smoothly, but did take a few hours.

Next on his agenda was speaking with his other bodies.

"Fenrir, Vivian, how soon until you reach Onigas?"

Alaster heard Fenrir's growl before words, "I thought you wanted us to take out any soft targets on our way. What's the rush? Can't you defend a single lousy city by yourself for a few days?" Fenrir taunted.

"Fen, don't be mean just because you are upset I am winning." Vivian chastised.

"Winning?"

"Oh, Fen and I are competing against each other to see how many Demons we can kill before we get to Onigas. Bonus points if it's a supply, hospital, or messenger caravan. But the bonus only applies if we wipe out the entire caravan. No survivors!" Vivian explained the massacre as if she were a small child talking about her dolls.

"You made Vivian be able to fly, so she can move a lot faster and see a lot further than I can. I call it an unfair advantage!" Fenrir complained.

Alaster sighed, "Fenrir, you are the one that made her body."

"My point stands!"

"Just tell me when you can get here." Alaster was already growing tired of their antics, which was strange considering they were just slightly different versions of himself.

"If we end the game, in my victory of course, I can get there before dawn. I don't know about the slowpoke." Vivian laughed.

"My pack can get there around dusk." Fenrir sighed.

"Do it. I have a feeling the Demon General is going to try something tomorrow."

"Understood." They said in unison.

Alaster turned his attention back to his real body, just in time to see the two crews finish their work.

He had expected they would be hostile towards each other when they met in the middle, but there was none. Perhaps a tense atmosphere, but no actions. They simply kept working in silence.

Neither side cared which race the dead was. They treated them with respect and carefully laid them out in the large pit the crews had dug using Magic in the middle of the battlefield. Row upon row the bodies were carefully stacked.

Alaster watched as the two crews worked together in silence, he even saw Devil and Human working together to carry a dead Devil to the pit.

Such a scene likely brought hope to the Demon Envoy, but Alaster did not care one way or another. Regardless, tomorrow, the two Races would go back to killing each other.

Gradually, the pit filled and the battlefield emptied. Once the last body had been placed in the pit, an Argalon and a Human stepped forward, conjuring a flame in their hands, they cast it towards the pit.

The flame caught, spreading quickly despite the blood. In moments the entire pit was aflame.

As one, the two crews stepped back, and saluted. As they did, so too did the soldiers atop the wall and those in the Siege Camp.

It would have been a beautiful sight had Alaster not known the battlefield would be filled once again when the sun rose tomorrow.

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