On the main continent of the Tal plane, in the boundless ancient forest of poisonous miasma to the east—
"I really envy those dragons whose ancestors produced powerful elders, who especially liked to leave behind useful information and knowledge," I complained.
In comparison, the dragon inheritance of the metallic dragons is definitely much richer and more complete. After all, metallic dragons are kind-hearted and are better at and more inclined to teach their descendants. Although it cannot be called selfless, it is definitely generous compared to the chromatic dragons.
What about the chromatic dragons?
Even if they are powerful, they rarely leave behind useful and precious knowledge in the dragon inheritance. On the contrary, they leave a lot of embellished stories about themselves. Is this knowledge useful? It seems to be of some use—after all, it can increase a bit of lore.
But to say it is truly useful—it actually isn't.
After thinking for a moment with a headache, I stopped thinking about these things.
Let's deal with the current crisis first.
"Consolidate all operations of the Black Wing Clan immediately. Recall every scouting party, foraging unit, and development team currently operating beyond our established territories. There will be no further expansion efforts from this point forward—we are entering a state of total war readiness," I declared with finality.
"Send word to the Smithing City of Vic without delay. Inform the master craftsmen and blacksteel engineers that the situation is critical. Whatever projects they are currently working on must be halted at once. All resources, manpower, and arcane fuel are to be redirected toward the mass production of high-grade crystal cannons. Instruct them to prioritize the construction of long-range variants capable of being mounted on fortified walls, mobile platforms, and cliff batteries. Once completed, begin immediate deployment—fortify the entire perimeter of Black Wing City, from the northern peaks to the southern ravines."
I paused, thinking of our distant allies.
"Send a full convoy of these weapons to the Empire of Dal as well. They must begin their own preparations. Tell them this is not an isolated invasion—it is an existential threat to all life on the surface. Let them know that Black Wing has sounded the call to arms."
I turned to Skye and the other tribe leaders, the army generals.
"Declare a state of supreme emergency across all territories under our domain. Every city, outpost, and border watchtower must be alerted. Signal the highest-level war protocol to our Void-Blooded elite. Every Voidborn of officer rank and above is to cease their operations and return to Black Wing City with haste. Their presence will be critical in the battles to come."
"Additionally, send envoys into the Magical Forest and alert every settlement and tribe under our protection. Inform the elders, chieftains, and fay that the time for isolation has ended. The forest will not survive alone. All residents—whether beastfolk, dryads, fairies or rangers—are to begin migrating toward Black Wing City. We shall shelter them behind our walls, where our combined strength can be gathered and coordinated."
My eyes narrowed, and my voice dropped to a grim growl.
"I will personally speak with Westbey. She must convince them to do the same—to abandon pride and prepare for survival. The demons are not coming. They are already here. The sky has cracked, and the Abyss is bleeding into our world. If we don't unify now, there will be no world left to protect. And lastly spread the void to everyone I need every creature in black wing have void seeds"
"It shall be done my lord!"
The demon army is incalculable in number, and no matter how many Black Wing warriors are sent out, they are just filling a bottomless pit that will never be filled.
Instead of doing that, it is better to wait for the demon army to attack.
If the demons are too strong and beyond what I can handle, then retreat as soon as possible.
If their strength is within my capacity to deal with, then a defensive war of attrition will be fought.
With the use of void power, my strength and strength of my followers will only grow the longer the war continues.
'This may also be a rare opportunity,' I thought to myself.
---
Not even three days, as Skye expected, but two and a half days later, the first batch of the demon army arrived in the northwest of the Dark Forest.
However, the Black Wing Lair monsters there had already retreated earlier, and only some scattered monsters remained. The demon army ignored them and headed directly to the east of the Dark Forest where life and soul energy are extremely abundant—where the Monster City is located.
A city of monsters that had been expanded to accommodate tens of millions of creatures. On the city walls—
Gnolls, trolls, ogres, centaurs, goblins, kobolds, and even forest elves appeared.
The reason why forest elves appeared in the Monster City was also due to the resolute decision made by the great elder of the Emerald Forest—to abandon the thousand-year-old Emerald Forest and face the incoming demon army alongside the Black Wing Lair.
Many forest elves were dissatisfied with this. After all, they felt their green forest home had been nurtured for thousands of years and possessed strong defenses, so there was no need to abandon it.
In comparison, the Monster City of Black Wing Lair has almost no spell matrix defenses, only a simple [Solid] spell matrix, and no other offensive, defensive, or trap spell matrices.
However, the great elder's prestige was very high, and many forest elves also agreed, so the small number of elves who opposed it naturally had no choice but to abandon their homes and enter the Monster City.
When they first arrived, many of them frowned.
Although the sanitation of the Monster City was relatively clean, after all, almost all the monsters in the Dark Forest were now gathered there—more than 10 million monsters. No matter how huge the Monster City was, there was still a strong stench of monsters.
Since entering the city, the forest elves had not stopped using their cleaning magic.
"Fine, don't waste your magic power—the demon army is coming!"
Mara, the great elder of the forest elves, scolded the elves around her who were still using cleaning magic and looked seriously at the black demon army attacking from a distance.
From afar, a negative and evil energy field and wild roars began to affect the creatures in the Monster City.
In this regard, the Black Wing Familiars were fine, but many weak monsters were affected by the negative and evil energy field and the maddening roars. Their eyes turned bloodshot, and they roared and slammed the ground.
Upon seeing this, the Dragon Vein Warlocks wanted to cast spells to stabilize the emotions of these weaker monsters but were directly stopped by Skye, the commander of this war.
"There is no need to waste magic power on these weaklings," Skye said coldly.
He knew very well how cruel the coming war would be.
Instead of wasting a lot of magic power on these weaklings who couldn't even resist the invasion of the negative energy field, it would be more practical to kill a few more demons.
After all, even Skye, a master-tier expert, was not sure if he could survive this war.
"This... this will be the most brutal war the Black Wing Lair has ever known," Skye whispered beneath his breath, his voice steady, but thick with the weight of inevitability. Yet his gaze—sharp and unyielding—never wavered, not even for a second.
His faith in the Black Dragon Lord was not simply belief—it was a conviction etched into the very marrow of his bones, burned into his blood like a sacred brand. That loyalty had become his identity, his compass, and his strength.
Even now, with the scent of doom hanging heavy in the air and the chilling truth that even his master—his indomitable, glorious master—might be powerless in the face of what was coming, Skye stood tall. He was no fool. He saw the impossible odds, the encroaching storm, the monstrous tide rising. But still... he did not flinch.
Because in the deepest part of him, in that stubborn, sacred place where belief becomes unbreakable, he knew: time was the Lord's ally. Let the world burn. Let the heavens fall. The Black Dragon would rise.
And if this battlefield became Skye's grave, so be it. He would die with blade drawn and head held high. He would die believing that someday, his Lord would eclipse even the stars themselves—and when that day came, their enemies would beg for the mercy that would never come.
He did not hesitate.
Not now. Not ever.
On the giant city wall that is hundreds of meters high, in addition to Skye, there are Bertha the Crane, Mohandersen the Centaur King, Roy, the Patriarch of the Siglinde Family, Brain the Gnoll Leader, Bray the Griffon, and Diaharut the Demonic Dragon, Cyclops Utia, Danylan, Tursun, Red, Shadar, Mog, Guert, Diana, Mondo, Aharut, and even several Nurraf from the abyss: Barro, the Fire Demon, Nurlav the Fallen Evil Giant, Ozzy the legendary six-armed snake demon, Salonia the snake demon girl, Cisse the sword demon, and many others. Almost all of the Dragonborn maids are here, except for the core maids who take care of the Black Dragon Lord.
With a group of black-winged followers waiting in tight formation, the fastest flying demons and master-level dark creature experts arrived in the sky above the Monster City.
"Interesting, it turns out that Monster City has such a strong dragon aura. This city is the territory of a Chromatic dragon."
A vampire duke flying in the sky licked the corner of his mouth, scanned the bottom with a pair of scarlet eyes, and smiled strangely at the big demons around him,
"Who among us is going to test their background?"
"The flight just consumed a lot of energy. I need to recover. I won't go," a 19th-level master dark-winged man shook his head and lied with an indifferent expression.
The other master-level dark monsters also ignored it. No one wanted to be the one who stood out anyway.
They're not stupid.
The magnificence of this Monster City and the powerful aura surging below make it look like a legendary powerhouse. The first one to step forward at this time is definitely the most dangerous.
Unlike the ordinary human cities they encountered before, where there was no need to talk nonsense and they just rushed in and started killing, any delay here would be a loss.
"You rubbish, if you don't go, I will be the first!" an eighteenth-level barbarian demon roared.
It hadn't had enough killing in the human city in the last game, but now its desire to kill had risen, and it had already lost 99% of its brain.
Die? Danger? Who cares about riding a horse?
Just do it!!
Under the "admiring" gazes of the great demons and master-level dark creatures, the barbarian demon, who was covered in muscles and over five meters tall, gathered the "flesh wings" derived from the muscles on his back and fell to the city wall below with a bang, also specially picking an area with an obviously stronger aura to fall into.
And that area is exactly where Mundo is.
The green-skinned giant, who was 13 meters tall, was holding a super mace, and behind him were a group of giant trolls who were about 5 meters tall, and their aura was so fierce that it would put even strong hearts in fear.
But the barbarian demon became even more excited when he saw it, roared violently, and laughed wildly,
"With a body that massive... and muscles that thick... it must taste divine..."
Paji—
Before the barbarian demon even finished licking his cracked lips, the monstrous green-skinned giant, standing at a towering thirteen meters, suddenly moved. Though he looked bloated—more like a living mountain than a warrior—his speed shattered all expectations.
With a thunderous snort, he let go of the colossal iron mace he had been resting on like a walking stick. His hulking arms, each the size of siege pillars, cut through the air like executioner's blades, creating a howling sonic boom so intense it sounded like the sky had cracked open.
CRACK!
His massive palm met the charging five-meter-tall barbarian demon with overwhelming force, swatting the creature from the air like a gnat beneath a divine hand. The barbarian's ribcage crumpled, spine snapped in three places, and his eyes burst in their sockets from the sheer pressure before his body even hit the ground.
BOOM!
He didn't. The demon exploded midair, bones and innards blasting apart in a gory spectacle of blood mist and shredded flesh. Arteries sprayed like ruptured pipes. Muscle fiber danced like torn silk.
Chunks of ruined demon rained down like red hail.
Mundo, the green colossus, didn't even flinch.
With a casual, almost gleeful hum, he reached up, caught one of the larger twitching halves of the corpse—a barely recognizable torso—and stuffed it whole into his gaping maw. Blood spilled from the corners of his jagged teeth as he chewed, each bite sounding like boulders grinding against bone.
He didn't just eat the corpse. He devoured it, like a beast that had been starved for centuries.
Behind him, a horde of grotesque trolls—each only slightly smaller than Mundo—crawled over the rain of scattered body parts, snarling and yipping like starving dogs. They tore flesh with their fangs, ripped organs with clawed hands, and feasted like carrion beasts, leaving not even a finger untouched.
In mere seconds, there was no trace left of the once-proud eighteenth-level barbarian demon. No bones. No armor. No skull. Just a slick pool of blood steaming on the cracked earth.
Up in the skies, the greater demons and master-class dark creatures hovering in grim formation froze, their confidence splintered. Their pupils constricted, expressions darkening as realization dawned—one of their own, a mid-tier elite with monstrous endurance and legendary regeneration, had been annihilated in a single strike.
The eighteenth-level barbarian demon, considered a strong one among them, was actually killed instantly with just one blow.
"That wasn't a kill... that was a damn execution," one of the master-class demons muttered, sweat collecting at his temples despite the frigid void energy surrounding them.
Another dark creature clenched its jaw, voice low and bitter. "That beast... he's no ordinary peak-tier. That's pseudo-legendary power at the very least."
"Damn... this is getting troublesome."
"We need to call in the adults." A larger demon, eyes burning with restrained fury, growled the words through fangs. "That thing isn't just a wall. He's a gate... and we're not getting through without a massacre."
The battlefield below grew silent—but it was the silence of fear, not calm.
Being able to call a great demon an adult means at least a pseudo-legendary level, or even a legendary demon.
"Don't worry, let the demon army behind them charge and test the specific strength of this Monster City," some dark creatures said without caring.
Anyway, the demon army descending this time is extremely large, so what if there are dozens or millions of casualties?
Behind them is the large abyssal city, the Frost City!
It's not one of those small and medium-sized abyss cities with weak foundations.
So far, there are three material planes that have been destroyed and sunk by their Frost City invasion, although they are all small planes.
But this does not prevent the demons of Frost City from being arrogant and confident.
As the guttural murmurs of the greater demons and master-ranked dark creatires echoed across the battlefield like an omen of doom, the delayed main force of the Abyssal Horde finally arrived—a sea of monsters crashing against the horizon.
From above, colossal Hollow Demons, each stretching over a hundred meters in length, descended like apocalyptic comets, their shadows eclipsing the sun. With bone-rattling screeches, they opened their bellies mid-flight, vomiting torrents of land-based fodder demons—limb-twisting, fang-gnashing beasts that couldn't fly but clawed at the earth with feral frenzy.
Next came the winged swarm.
Screaming, shrieking, and unleashing monstrous roars, aerial demons with tattered wings and frost-rimed claws dove from the skies. Monster City, looming like a fortress of ancient titans, now faced a two-pronged onslaught, a tsunami of writhing chaos from above and below.
The demon tide was limitless, a black-and-blue storm of nightmares.
Most bore the signature of frost, their bodies coated in armor-like growths of obsidian and sapphire ice, pulsing with freezing energy. Barbarian demons surged through them like siege engines of flesh and muscle, while bloodthirsty vampires weaved between the ranks, their eyes glowing red as they whispered the promise of eternal thirst. From the rear, Dark-Winged horrors, fused with corrupted biology and raw darkness, commanded currents of cold death with every flap of their grotesque wings.
But it was the Ice Demons who formed the endless bulk of the horde—millions strong. Standing two meters tall, they marched with mechanical precision, bodies encased in razor-sharp glacier armor that hissed and steamed under the Abyssal cold. The weapons in their hands, conjured entirely from the frozen essence of the Eternal Night, shimmered like blades of jagged crystal, ready to impale, rend, and gut.
These were the Abyss' most disposable killers—the foot soldiers of frozen hell.
This is the most common, largest, and most useful cannon fodder in the Abyss layer of Eternal Night and Winter.
"KILL! KILL! KILL!"
"DEVOUR THEM ALL!"
"BLOOD! FLESH! FROST!"
Their warcries shook the earth.
*****
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