Three weeks.

Twenty-one days had passed since the Coalition sieged the Human City of Onigas.

The soldiers on either side had fallen into a routine. A routine of life and death. The Demon Trebuchets never stopped. Some aimed at the walls of Onigas, others aimed at the city that lay beyond.

The City lay in smoldering ruin with only the rare building still standing, none without some type of damage.

The Humans of Onigas used their own trebuchets, but the effect was minor despite several days of constant use. Only two Demon trebuchets had been destroyed with only minor injuries dealt.

The destroyed trebuchets were rebuilt in days.

When the barrage began, the Humans, under command of the City Lord, began transferring supplies from the various warehouses throughout the city into the various rooms in the massive train station below ground.

It had taken many days, and plenty had been destroyed by the trebuchets or fires before the Soldiers could get to them, but overall, Keylan considered it a successful operation.

Yet despite the minimal damage, both to supply and life, the Human Soldiers found themselves in despair. Any time they looked up, day or night, flaming boulders trailing black smoke soared overhead.

Even the damage to the walls were minimal. The battlements in several places had boards or other similarly hasty repairs, allowing passage. Two towers had their protective barriers breached and their tops were no longer accessible. One of the towers had collapsed halfway up, crushing several Soldiers within.

The stress was taking its toll.

The Demons had not attacked since the Dread Knights made their debut. Which Alaster appreciated.

Since the massacre, the Dread Knights had changed. It was as if the vast quantities of blood they had absorbed had changed them.

Nothing physical, at least from what Alaster had been able to observe, but they were changed.

Most apparent, they summoned themselves whenever they felt like it. From what Alaster had seen, only one hundred could summon themselves. A small number considering Alaster could summon over four hundred at a time. It would drain him mentally, but he could do it and keep them summoned for several hours.

However, having one hundred blood crazed berserkers just walking around among the Humans was bound to cause problems.

Instead, Alaster had sent the hundred into the wilderness. He sent them out on the opposite side of the city, where the Demons only had patrols and scouts. The Knights had easily cut through the ones that got in their way, but now, several days later, Alaster could feel them several miles away killing any Monster they came across.

It kept them busy, and Alaster could summon them back at a moment's notice should he have need of it.

Unfortunately, that was not the only change.

The Dread Knights had grown increasingly difficult for Alaster to control. They had always been the most hesitant of Minion to obey their Master, but now, they were almost outright rebellious.

Alaster suspected that the best he would be able to do now would be to point them in a direction and let them run wild. Which was something they were best suited for, but pure power was not always the right choice.

Lastly, the Dread Knights appeared to be more intelligent. Though perhaps intelligent was the wrong choice of word. They were more aware.

They still looked at everything with the sole promise of delightful murder, but now there was a hint of understanding and study.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Alaster was not quite sure he like the idea of a sentient Undead, that could summon itself without his permission, and as powerful as the Dread Knight, understanding the world around it.

This understanding did nothing to calm its rage and bloodlust, instead it only seemed to focus it. From a serrated blade to a scalpel's edge.

Unfortunately, he had not been able to figure out a way to prevent the Dread Knights from summoning themselves, hence their 'banishment'.

Alaster sat atop his tower, watching the flaming boulders fly overhead in the red and purple sky of the setting sun, pondering the mysteries of the Necrotic.

'You said the Dread Knight would be a simple Weave. A good start for a beginner.' Alaster said to Belgroth.

'How was I supposed to know what would happen? I have told you before, I never spent much time, let alone effort, in learning Summoning Weaves. I know the basic premise. That's it. The rest is on you.'

Alaster rolled his eyes, 'How is this on me? I had no idea what I was doing. I followed your instructions!'

Belgroth did his mental version of a shrug, 'I don't know. I just don't want to take blame.'

'How is someone so immature so famous among his own people?'

'Don't know! I 'died' before I got the chance to figure out I was famous.'

'Speaking of your people…'

Belgroth sighed, 'Again, I don't know what the Argalon General is thinking or planning.'

'Not what I was going to ask,' It was, 'I was going to ask,' He wasn't, 'if you had any bright insights on how I was going to recreate your body.'

'A few possibilities, but I am still trying to figure out the specifics. I will let you know.'

'Couldn't we just grab one of the Argalon down there in the camp and implant your soul into his body?'

'No. Not just for moral reasons, they are after all my people, but also because if I took primary control, their body would not be able to contain my power and would expire rapidly. And if I didn't take primary control, we would just have the same problem, just in a different boat.'

'Well I have already created bodies, couldn't I do the same for you. It would take longer, but I think I could do it, at least with your help.'

'You creating the body from scratch is the basis of pretty much all my ideas. I am just trying to figure out the logistics of the act. That's why I haven't really commented as much as I usually do.'

'If ever feel stuffy, just ask, I could let you run around in one of my Undead.'

Belgroth chuckled, 'For the whole five seconds they last. Thanks, but I will wait patiently until my body is complete.'

Alaster chuckled, ignoring the glances from the Engineers around him manning their Machines. They could not hear the conversation and Alaster was certainly not going to enlighten them.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, watching the hellscape around them.

Several minutes passed, with the Human and Demon each embroiled in their own thoughts.

Alaster took a moment to check in with his sister, only to see her glaring at one of the shadows in the warehouse where she still worked.

It would have been a bit frightening, if she was not looking at the only corner in the entire warehouse Alaster did not have a Shadow Assassin stationed.

She never liked the idea of the being hidden from the frontlines, and the Native Undead had provided the perfect excuse. She knew the cataloging needed to be done, but that did not mean she lied doing it.

David was having a blast just sleeping the entire time, and Liam was about ready to pull out his hair, but the others seemed fine. They certainly were not enjoying the work, but they did not see fit to constantly whine about it like Liam.

The warehouse was one of the only buildings still standing only because Alaster had stationed Vivian to guarding it exclusively. A task she delegated to her Minions, her very disposable Minions, at least the way she used them.

Meanwhile Fenrir was in the Train Station, in one of the deeper and much less visited rooms, spending all his time in enlarging his Wolf Pack.

The two had arrived a several days ago, easily slipping into the besieged city.

The flow coming from the Deep had been slow and steady, never quite ceasing. Alaster now had quite the force of Native Undead under his command, including the numerous Ghouls that were outside the city, wrecking havoc among any Demon that strayed too far.

Unfortunately, Alaster's only source of news of the outside world was Catherine, who was busy with the Zalarian Warfront. She rarely had time to collect any information about the other Warfronts.

Had another Kingdom fallen? Where the Demons being pushed back? Alaster had no idea. And that frustrated him. How was he supposed to anticipate the actions of his Warfront if he did not know how the others were faring? They affected each other.

If the other Warfronts were seeing great victories for the Demon Coalition, then General Feldon would be more likely to take risks. But if they were struggling, or if progress was slower than expected, or if the Human Gods were fighting back harder than expected, then the General would be more likely to fight a slow and steady war, with the intent to keep Alaster tied down to a single city.

Alaster was really hoping the General chose the fast route, because he had just located Duke Redmond and his son.

The boy could go safely.

Well, not really, Alaster would kidnap the boy, bring him to Evelyn. She could do what she wanted with him.

But the father was his.

"I wonder how long an Expert like him could last underwater." Alaster thought aloud, causing the breathing of the Engineers around him to hasten.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.