"You have better things? What could you possibly have to do on Verillion, a planet torn apart by centuries of war? I apologize, but we do not have resorts here." Darvion tried to stay calm, but the edge of anger leaked through unmistakably.

To him, everything unfolding was an insult—no, the greatest insult he had suffered in tens of thousands of years. Yet his survival instinct forced him to listen to the end; the battle's reversal in a matter of minutes made every word a matter of life and death.

"…My men have already spread out to search for a secure area and to begin building an underground city; you must have heard." Sakaar replied indirectly. "When we finish, I want you to instruct the corpse-collection teams not to burn the bodies but to bring them to the city gates and leave them there."

"All those corpses?" Darvion gestured toward the Shallow Land—the riverbed had risen noticeably, water replaced by blood and mud by flesh. "What are you going to do with all of that?"

"We have a demonic method to temporarily increase our power using corpses. I assume you don't object?" Sakar smiled.

"...." Darvion nodded several times. "Understood."

It was one of the infamous methods used by practitioners of the Dark Paths, yet he had never heard of gains in strength reaching this magnitude. Normally he would have reported Sakar—or even killed him for joining demonic cults—but in this war everything was on the table; even if the devil himself came to fight, so be it.

"Good," Sakaar nodded, satisfied with Darvion's reaction. Then he waved his hand sharply. "I want you to increase the number of corpse-collection squads, and start targeting the allied corpse-gatherers—silently eliminate them so they won't compete with us. Bring me everything you can secure: bodies, limbs; even collect the blood in barrels and bring it to us!"

"...Isn't this excessive?" Darvion felt as if he might vomit. "Do you know how many limbs and how much blood are spilled every day?"

"If we are to intervene to protect this continent, you must supply us with corpses to strengthen ourselves and practice our dark rites. It's that simple." Sakaar replied calmly.

He had taken his lord's orders very seriously when told to choose and support the new kings himself rather than wait for them to emerge. That was why he had brought nearly two hundred candidates; their only task in the coming period would be to eat and grow.

"Tsk." Darvion bristled. "Very well. Is that enough for you to fight with us permanently?"

"No." Sakaar answered quietly. He understood Darvion's sentiment—Darvion had helped bring him to this position from the start. "At first I would have intervened only if the allies attempted to destroy the planet itself. Now, however, I will intervene if they try to overrun the continent. I might also step in if you devise an offensive plan to reclaim parts of the world that I find appealing—if I like your plan, I may send some of the young to assist in ways I deem appropriate... Isn't that sufficient?"

"...." Darvion fell silent for a few seconds, then replied in an entirely submissive tone, "I want more."

"You will have to pay more." Sakar answered bluntly. "Our efforts will not be without cost."

"What do you want?" Darvion asked quickly. "The Crumbled Meteors Empire stands at its worst; we have little to offer."

"You have much from my perspective — you possess the greatest resource." Sakar answered enigmatically. "I hear you have other battlefields besides Verillion, yes?"

"...Indeed. We lose a planet or two each month." Darvion looked down. "Our worlds have dwindled to nearly eight hundred from more than two thousand... Unfortunately, those planets don't hold resources that would benefit you either."

"They do." Sakar nodded. "I want you to bring me every corpse from those worlds as well."

"What?!" Darvion lashed out. "That is excessive beyond measure. Do you realize what you are asking? You want to turn all of Verillion into a mass grave. Do you intend to bring plagues upon us?" He paused, then added, "And what do I tell the comrades and families of those dead?!"

"The corpses will never pile up—this is my promise." Sakar smiled beneath his mask. "Tell the comrades and families that you are disposing of them in a healthier way than burning. You may strip the bodies of their armor and belongings and do with them as you please; you may bury your officers with proper rites. Apart from that, I want them all."

"...The price?" Darvion felt sick at the thought—and at the insult. The army of the Crumbled Meteors Millennial Empire reduced to gathering corpses and filling barrels with blood?!

Sakar turned to Darvion. "In return I will leave one of my generals and ten soldiers with you permanently. They may rotate periodically, but that number will remain constant. You may use them for ten minutes each day to do as you wish—open a breach or destroy a specific target. I believe that is sufficient."

He continued, "I will also send my generals to your other worlds to repel assaults and prolong the war—well, to stop the bleeding of planets you lose every day." Sakar smiled beneath his mask. "Or, if we reach an agreement, you will not lose planets monthly as you claim; I promise you will lose at most one planet per year."

"...Are you able to deliver on that?" Darvion began to sweat. "You cannot imagine the scale of the wars raging across our worlds; each planet faces its own war of annihilation."

"Do not worry—the planets will not fall anymore; that would harm our interests." Sakar nodded. "And if the front expands further, I will summon more support from where I came."

"More... of you?" Darvion muttered.

"More of us." Sakar inclined his head and extended his hand. "Do we have an agreement?"

In truth, he had not fully pictured the scale of the conflict, but if corpses overflowed his needs he would simply summon more candidates. He could not imagine a better place to strengthen the demonkind.

"...." Darvion remained silent for a full minute, then extended his hand. "We have an agreement."

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