"Your Majesty, since the expedition entered the demon realm, we've clashed over two thousand times, with six major campaigns. Our losses total three hundred thousand. We've captured thirty cities—about one-thirtieth of demon territory—and killed roughly five hundred thousand enemies," Keled reported, slyly glossing over faults to highlight achievements. A chunk of those "enemy" deaths were beastmen on demon soil, but he didn't mention that.
"We know the basics. Focus on this operation so we can plan next steps," the God King cut in. Old age hadn't dulled his edge (well, not strategically), and he saw through Keled's young-blood posturing. Time was too short for long-winded boasts.
"Yes, sir," Keled said, startled, expecting a tongue-lashing. Relieved, he dove in. "Five days ago, during a truce, we caught the demons off-guard with a major sneak attack. They spotted us, but we still inflicted over twenty thousand casualties, with only a few hundred of ours lightly injured. The demon army retaliated, surrounding us with large forces. Within our controlled zone, Demon Generals Trank and Lang Wuyu each lead two hundred thousand troops, while their total force has swelled to about two million against our near-million. That's why I requested the 'God Special Forces' for a devastating surprise strike to cripple their numbers and reverse our disadvantage." He finished, breathless, eyeing the pensive God King nervously.
"The Demon King's not usually this reckless—what's his deal? Brain damage?" the God King muttered, unaware of the Demon King's pent-up frustrations.
"You've heard the situation. Any bright ideas? It's a sneak attack, but we're facing enemies on three fronts—where do we hit? We've brought the First Legion too," the God King said to the angels below. Post-god-demon war, he'd adopted this talent-nurturing approach, though it was barely needed.
Freshly arrived commanders Baizhan and Flande, having heard Keled's report, chimed in. "Majesty, we suggest hitting Yuri's front," Baizhan said. "We attacked him before, so he'll be on high alert, making it perfect for catching him off-guard. His army's the largest—a strike here would humble their arrogance." In the last god-demon war, Baizhan's First Legion suffered a hit from Yuri, then a newly minted Demon General avenging his predecessor, whom Baizhan had killed. Baizhan, fresh off a big win, underestimated the rookie, only to get ambushed. Their grudge had festered, and now was Baizhan's chance to settle the score.
"Keled, as expedition commander, you know the lay of the land. Where should we strike?" the God King asked, pondering.
"Majesty, I recommend targeting Trank and Lang Wuyu's fronts," Keled said, missing Baizhan's frantic eye signals. "Oh? Why them? Explain," the God King asked, mildly surprised.
"Yes, sir. We're surrounded on three sides. Yuri's front is the tightest; the other two are looser. Some might think I'm picking the easy fight, and that's partly true, but not entirely. Yuri's defenses are ironclad, but the demons don't know the 'God Special Forces' and First Legion are here. The expedition holds the line as is, while the 'God Special Forces' and First Legion secretly hit Trank and Lang Wuyu. Their numbers are smaller—success is certain. Then, we regroup and turn on Yuri. This crushes their morale and lets us expand from those fronts, seizing more land," Keled said, exhaling in relief.
"What do you all think?" the God King asked, his tone hinting he leaned toward Keled's plan. Angels rushed to agree—nobody wanted to cross the God King or look foolish. Baizhan, seeing his Yuri grudge slipping, jumped up. "Majesty, since we have the surprise advantage, Yuri's front, with numbers double Trank and Lang Wuyu's combined, is the real target. A true sneak attack hits the strongest foe to gut their forces. Trank and Lang Wuyu's armies pose no threat—we can crush them anytime."
The God King weighed both arguments, finding merit in each but favoring Keled's steady approach. It met his goal of hammering demons. Trank and Lang Wuyu's smaller armies seemed manageable, but Baizhan's confidence overlooked their cunning. Striking them now, while weak, was wiser than waiting for them to grow. Clearing his throat, he said, "I believe Keled's plan offers greater gains." Baizhan, desperate, tried to interrupt, but the God King waved him down. "Baizhan, think: who's stronger—Yuri, or Trank and Lang Wuyu? Yuri's got numbers as the main front, but Trank and Lang Wuyu are craftier. If we don't hit them now, they'll swell into a real three-front threat. As you said, a sneak attack targets the strong. That's Trank and Lang Wuyu, not Yuri. Don't let personal grudges cloud your judgment," he warned.
Baizhan, hearing the analysis, realized his Yuri obsession had cost him clarity—a grave error for a commander. Cold sweat broke out. He knelt. "I've failed, Majesty. Thank you for the lesson." The God King nodded. "Good you see it. War's no place for emotions. We've fought demons before; we know each other inside out. A sneak attack may seem beneath us, but war favors the cunning, not the honorable. Our obsession with dignity cost us in past wars—else we'd have unified the three realms long ago, not been stuffed in the god realm's tiny corner by the Creator."
"That's the plan. The main attack's set. Handle the details yourselves," the God King said, standing. His words, he hoped, would spur flexible tactics. "Yes, sir!" the angels chorused. Guided by Keled, he retired to his chambers to tune his energy.
Meanwhile, the demons scrambled to prepare. "Lalan, what about this?" Yuri leapt up, struck by a sudden idea, shouting at Lalan, who'd dozed off in a chair. "Huh?" Lalan yawned languidly, stretching, stunning Yuri briefly. "Here's the deal: head-on, we've got no edge. We outnumber them, but not decisively. To win, we hit their weak links," Yuri said.
"You mean…" Lalan perked up, half-getting it. "Exactly! We send troops to Trank and Lang Wuyu. Double their numbers, then strike before the enemy reacts. We storm in, link up inside, and victory's ours!" Yuri grinned, the siege's puzzle solved. He'd earn the Demon King's praise, and Trank would bow to his genius.
"Yuri, that's brilliant! If it works, it's a one-shot win. Let's plan it out," Lalan said, eyes sparkling, cheering his scheme.
"Here's my thought: Trank and Lang Wuyu have about five hundred thousand combined. We send another five hundred thousand, making a million. We're left with a million—enough to hold, not attack. The gods won't swallow us easily," Yuri said.
Lalan nodded. "To throw them off, we keep up fake attacks here, but shift our main force to those fronts. Hah, the gods won't see it coming—they can't match our cunning," she said, mood soaring.
"Right, and we crank up the fake attacks to show resolve, hiding our real move. Lalan, arrange it—send reinforcements now. Leave the tents to avoid suspicion. This time, they're not coming back," Yuri said, smirking.
"On it!" Lalan dashed out, thrilled. In this stormy, thunderous night, gods and demons prepped for the looming clash.
South and west of god territory, Trank and Lang Wuyu each led about two hundred thousand troops, totaling near five hundred thousand. For Demon Generals, it was paltry—human war losses had gutted their ranks, and new recruits needed time.
Trank paced his tent, fuming. Was he cursed? Nothing went right since the human campaign. His standing with the Demon King had tanked. That smug Yuri must be laughing. Leading so many troops yet losing ten thousand to a sneak attack? Pathetic. It pissed off the Demon King, who ordered Trank to attack harder. With this measly force? On home soil, he couldn't even unleash forbidden spells. When had war been this stifling?
"Big bro, stop pacing—you're dizzying me. Think of something, or we'll catch hell from His Majesty," said Lang Wuyu, Trank's sworn brother and fellow Demon General.
"With this puny force, how do we attack? Even if we take a city, more enemies swarm us—total wipeout's possible. Three days? What's His Majesty thinking?" Trank griped, a rare low for the so-called "wise general." Lang Wuyu nodded, sympathetic.
"Screw it. His Majesty says attack, we attack, or we'll get chewed out. I'm off to blow off steam—caught some god clan chicks yesterday. Wanna join?" Lang Wuyu stood, antsy, heading for base.
"In this mess, you think I'm in the mood? Even if a god princess stripped before me, I wouldn't care," Trank sighed, exasperated.
Lang Wuyu's eyes lit up at "god princess," then dimmed. "Me? Even with a blade at my throat, I'd go for it. Won't happen, but if we're captured, maybe a god princess sees my dashing charm, gets all hot and bothered, and ravishes me—I'd be fine with that." He sank into wild fantasies, claiming his battle plans came from such "belly-up" daydreams.
Trank gave a wry smile. Ever since Lang Wuyu struck out with Princess Meilina a hundred times, he'd gone from suave to sleazy, needing a woman nightly to sleep. Now, he was probably dreaming of god princesses. Trank rubbed his temples, head aching, and sipped tea, thinking. The tent held a comical scene: one brooding, the other drooling, eyes starry and unfocused.
"Report! General Lalan's arrived with troops," a messenger knelt, snapping them back. "What? Lalan's here?" Trank asked, skeptical. "Don't believe me?" a sultry voice called. The tent flap opened, revealing a ravishing woman—Lalan, Demon General.
Lang Wuyu, on his chair, wiped drool. "What, little brother Lang, dreaming of your big sister Lalan? Bad for your health. Just say you want me—I'm not stingy," Lalan teased, winking, making Lang Wuyu quiver. I ain't falling for her tricks, he thought.
Once, a demon general chased Lalan, only to scream in her tent for three days, carried out, and bedridden for three months. Others who tried fared worse—four months' recovery. Lalan's nickname, "Lustful Scorpion General," exploded in demon fame. She'd trap admirers in wild fantasies, have maids "assist" with hand play to heighten it, and leave them drained after days, too weak to "fire" again. Demon men—pathetic! Few knew she was still a virgin.
"Lalan, how many troops?" Trank asked, saving Lang Wuyu. "Five hundred thousand," she said, dropping her seductive act for a crisp, heroic demeanor, stunning both men. "Too few?" she asked. "We're stretched—more would weaken our main front."
"Few? We were just stressing over troops, and you solved it!" Trank beamed. "Bet Yuri sent you with orders. No way he's this nice without wanting me to look dumb." He knew Yuri's knife-in-the-back style.
"You two, always bickering," Lalan said, rolling her eyes. "Yuri sent me to make your front the main attack. He'll play decoy, drawing god attention. Once you break through, we link up inside. I'm just passing the message—I'm off, or gods might spot me, and that's trouble. I've said my piece. Attack at dawn—don't miss it." She turned to leave.
"Leaving already?" Lang Wuyu blurted. "What, little brother, want sister to cuddle?" Lalan sauntered over, stroking him, her coy voice melting him. He went limp. "Oh, Blue-jie, you're busy—I wouldn't dare keep you and risk His Majesty's wrath," he said, torn.
"I'm gone. Handle the details," Lalan said. "Didn't think Yuri had it in him. Solid plan. Tell him we're on board," Trank called as she reached the flap.
"Got it," Lalan said, stepping into the pouring rain. A cold gust hit the tent, sharpening their focus. Tomorrow, they'd boot the gods from demon land. They grinned.
Trank turned to Lang Wuyu. "Let's check the reinforcements, settle them quietly—no enemy scouts. Tomorrow, we hit hard."
In the 'God Special Forces' and First Legion's command tent, senior angels gathered, debating. Baizhan stood. "Majesty left details to us, so let's brainstorm. I say we strike now. One, the storm catches them off-guard. Two, our morale's high. We could wipe them out in one go."
Angels nodded. "I back Baizhan. How do we split forces?" Flande asked.
"Easy. 'Special Forces' lead, First Legion backs them to hold the line," Baizhan said confidently. "Agreed? Done."
"Let's report to His Majesty first," Flande said, cautious. "Fine," Baizhan grumbled, not thrilled but avoiding a royal scolding.
"What do you think of their plan?" the God King asked Keled, standing behind him. "Solid, sir," Keled said. He'd have planned the same—enemies wouldn't expect a storm strike. Ninety-nine percent chance of success.
"Tell them to proceed," the God King said, gazing at the rain. No storms in the god realm's sunny climes. A vague worry nagged him, but he brushed it off as overthinking.
"Majesty approved," Flande announced, elated. "Great. We move as planned," Baizhan commanded from the head seat.
In this stormy, thunderous night, both armies mobilized. From Trank and Lang Wuyu's defended cities, large forces crept out. Scouts reported no demon patrols—nobody'd brave this weather. Baizhan and god generals were thrilled.
The First Legion reached their spot. Above, the 'God Special Forces' filled the sky. Baizhan waved, and the sneak attack surged toward the demon camp.
At fifty meters, many god soldiers hit traps. Ambush! Baizhan realized the demons were prepared, but likely just for general defense, not his specific plan. Sneering at the traps, he thought, This won't stop us, especially with air support. "Speed up! 'Special Forces,' engage now!" Fireballs and lightning rained from the sky.
As Baizhan's army charged in, a massive demon force countered. Trank, ever cunning, had placed only twenty thousand up front, with empty tents to deceive. The bulk waited behind, spaced for a buffer. This setup stalled the gods. "General, we're surrounded!" Baizhan's aide reported.
"How many?" Baizhan asked, rattled but calm, trusting his numbers and 'Special Forces.' "Roughly… two hundred thousand," the aide said, shaken but honest.
"What?" Baizhan reeled. Did they merge armies? Beilie's front was likely a bust too—no time for reinforcements. "Front becomes rear, rear becomes front. Split 'Special Forces'—one clears a path, one covers retreat," he ordered, pulling back. The 'Special Forces' were fierce, but night raids and chaotic melee neutered them unless they went all-out, risking friendly fire. Damn intel failure, he cursed.
The demons didn't know gods had arrived—merely consolidating to avoid being picked off, preserving strength for a counterstrike. Baizhan admired Trank's "wise general" rep. Facing a worthy foe fired him up, but the odds sucked. Save strength, fight another day.
"Well, if it ain't Seraph Baizhan! Leaving so soon? Folks'll say I'm a lousy host. Old pals like us—you're not giving face. Been, what, a few millennia?" Trank emerged, flanked by demon generals, taunting the retreating Baizhan.
"Hah, old friends meet like this—our bond's forged in battle. Gotta run today, but I'll be back. Just saying hi," Baizhan shot back, matching Trank's sarcasm.
"Don't let me keep you," Trank chuckled. "General, why not trap them?" a demon general asked. "We outnumber them, but their 'Special Forces' tip the scales late-game. Stick close—they can't blast their own. At ten miles from the city, pull back," Trank ordered. "Yes, sir."
"What?" Back in the city, Baizhan leapt up at Beilie's report. He'd thought Beilie's front was fine—same disaster. The sneak attack was a colossal flop. "Did they know?"
"What?!" In the demon command tent at Yelu City, Yuri's shout echoed. Hours after sending reinforcements, they faced a fierce god assault. "Did they know?"
Reader's Corner: Yo, readers, gods and demons are outsmarting each other, and Feitian's shadow looms large! Think Trank's trap will crush the gods, or will Baizhan flip the script? And what's Yuri's next play—genius or bust? Drop your epic theories in the comments—let's unravel this cosmic chess game!