The Castle in the middle of nowhere.

"That was wonderful," Aoi exclaimed as we entered the Royal Carriage.

Lavender sat on the sofa.

"If I had not seen it, I wouldn't believe it. I love how they made the scenery."

Amber sat near Lavender with a wide smile. "And those costumes? Simply wonderful."

"Right? Right?" Aoi clapped her hands and giggled.

"I love the theatre and the spectacle," Freya sighed, and after a moment, she added in a nostalgic voice, "I missed it so much..."

The Queens merrily chatted about the musical while I silently laughed at the show's more comedic moments. I loved the way that the King was depicted and his bartering with the farmer. I could even recall the source material in some cases. The story perfectly depicted Sally, Myrna, and Ian, and I was impressed by the breathtaking music and stunning effects. Illusion magic had been used in such a way that it left an unforgettable impression. To be honest, I was looking forward to seeing how the entertainment industry would develop in the future. After all, Arcadia already had a strong base for future development: theatres, operas, amphitheatres, and the very first amusement park, among other forms of entertainment. I chuckled while sitting on the couch, moving my gaze from one lovely face to another, and happily nodded. It looked like everyone was happy. However, I suddenly received reports that would ruin the evening, and my smile disappeared.

"It’s begun. Glimmervale and Wolf Manor are under attack."

Their laughter died instantly, replaced by focused and concerned gazes.

"Fortunately, the Devilkins used zombies to attack the cities so the defenders are easily overpowering them. Things are proceeding according to our plans. Sebastian, take us to Triskelion!"

"Yes, my Lord!"

•••

"It is done, Great One," the one of the lesser commanders informed.

"Is everything going according to plan?" a raspy voice asked slowly.

"Yes, Your Highness! The initial attack was a spectacular success. The defenders stopped the undead, and we observed courier birds carry away the warnings toward the Arcadian capital. Our forces gradually increased the pressure, and as you predicted, the enemies sent more messages toward Avalon. It's been ten hours since the sieges began, and the defenders are keeping up so far."

The giant Demon was pleased. "Excellent. How has the capital reacted?"

"They seemed to be surprised by the attack, sire. However, they were better organised than we thought, and there was no panic or chaos in their reactions. Their immediate response was to evacuate the surrounding villages. Our scout's observation confirmed that they are gathering their troops. If we are not wrong, they should send reinforcements in just a few days when the besieged cities begin sending more desperate reports and requests. At least that's how long it would take any surface kingdom to respond, according to our knowledge."

"What if he sends his armies earlier?" The Demon Lord picked up a scroll that looked like it was read many times. "That man, Theon Avalon, is dangerous, and I don't like the idea of underestimating him."

"That would be even better because then we won't waste more time than necessary," the general laughed as he entered the room. Seeing the king's unamused gaze, he added, "My Lord."

"Kažhûn? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you prepare for the attack on the fortress?"

"We have time... Mortals, even those competent and warlike, would need hours if not days to discuss the right course of action among themselves," the General laughed.

"That man is different," the Demon Lord said impatiently.

"But the monarchies are the same. The nobles would be reluctant to aid the crown, and they would demand something in return. The commoners will try to avoid being drafted. The usual story." Kažhûn shrugged nonchalantly. "There are still days bef-"

"My Lord!" Another messenger hurriedly entered the room, interrupting the general, who snarled angrily. "The observers just said that a massive army is heading out from Avalon!"

"What's the meaning of this?!" General Kažhûn forgot that he was angry at the Imp. "How many people?"

"Twenty thousand soldiers with minimal supplies," the Imp quickly said and added after taking a short breath, "There are no carts, pack beasts, or other means of carrying large quantities of supplies with them."

"That's why... They must be soldiers under the direct orders of the King." The general laughed. "Excellent! The lack of supplies means they have reached their destination. They won't be able to return in time."

"Yes... Push the cities harder but do not involve the main forces. We don't have to waste our soldiers if the undead puppets work so well." The Demon Lord cackled. "I told you he is different."

"Still within predictions. But all right, oh great Dark One, you were right." The general sighed. "I wonder how many people he will send away next time."

"If we are to believe the reports, I expect the most of the city garrison..." The Demon Lord laughed as he relished in the upcoming victory.

•••

In the following days, another three detachments left the capital. The Arcadian armies were moved steadily through the uninhabited land unopposed. If the scouts were correct, the soldiers who had left the Arcadian capital belonged to the Guardsmen Corp, and just a few sneaky readings on their levels were enough to realise that the level gap was in favour of the Arcadians. Most of those soldiers were above level eighty, which was very alarming. However, a few Succubusses who had managed to sneak into the city with the wave of refugees reported that those forces were the elite soldiers sent to aid the attacked cities. Fortunately for the Devilkins, the Arcadians wouldn't be able to return to Avalon before everything was over. However, the King of Arcadia wasn't a complete idiot and had sent his cavalry and airships to patrol the area around Avalon. That wasn't going to help him that much because he focused on the surface. The Demon's Lord target lay in the Shadow Realm. But that man was dangerous, and sooner or later, he was going to figure out their real target. If the observers were correct, there were maybe fifty thousand soldiers left and Kažhûn doubted that they could bait them out. The armies sent to the Wolf Manor were going to reach the city in just a few hours, so the General had to act soon. The Arcadian armies were days away, far too far to aid the capital once the siege began. Everything was ready for the assault, and he prepared himself.

The eerie grey light, along with the ever-present long shadows and mists of the Shadow Realm, intertwined with the spell-woven fabric of his command tent, offering him nigh-perfect cover. He knew that hundreds of similar tents were scattered across the area, each warded by powerful barriers that made anyone who stumbled upon them quickly turn back, convinced they had found nothing. Though they were positioned far from the menacing fortress, it was still close enough to reach with a single swift charge. The stale air and the constant presence of distant monsters lurking in the shadows had long become familiar to him. But this time, something felt different, something he couldn't really name or point out. After a moment, he brushed the feeling aside, believing it was because of the anticipation of battle. It would be the first actual battle for his race in centuries. A battle that was going to involve the entire army of Devilkins and countless summons. He looked forward to confronting the man responsible for stalling his plans—and killing him personally.

"Summon our army, General Kažhûn," he ordered, delighted by the thought of triggering the trap they had painstakingly set.

"With pleasure..." The general sounded a large, crimson horn that echoed unnaturally throughout the Shadow Realm.

Hundreds of distant lights flickered to life as the once-concealed soldiers emerged, forming protective lines around the Imps. A few of the otherwise useless Demons teleported away to inform their more powerful kin that everything was ready. Meanwhile, the Devilkin field army began teleporting around the imposing fortress. The Demon Lord laughed, amused by the feeble shields rising over the walls and the first spells filling the air. He watched the first wave of his army advance from his position, but his laughter died as the defenders responded. The fortress walls flashed with a dreadful power, and rows of magi-cannons their harvest. His front lines were decimated with shocking speed. Despite the losses, his forces reached the walls, and the siege began. Fire exploded in retaliation as the sorcerers targeted the enemy artillery, but to his surprise, the fortress shields held firm.

"Something is wrong..." As soon as those words left his lips, a crushing pressure hit him like a hammer. "What was that?!"

"I don't know... But it seems to be some kind of seal." The General took a deep breath. "No matter what that was, it was rather harmless to our forces."

"Sorcerers! Identify this spell."

"We will try, oh Great One!"

"Bring in the catapults! Bombard their gates." The General focused on the battle, grinding his teeth loudly. "They’re slaughtering our vanguards..."

"Those walls are massive," the Demon Lord sighed. "Fall back or try to use ladders."

"Yeah... Their archers are a pain in the ass. To think that some mortals can shoot so accurately."

"Your Highness! This is a Dungeon!" someone yelled.

"We know that..." The General growled angrily and pointed towards the fortress. "Considering how enormously big Avalon is, I don't find it strange that the Dungeon fortified the Gates."

The messenger wanted to say something more but was pushed away by a massively winged Demon.

"My Lord, we are ready to fly. Give us the order!"

"That would be stupid right now, Balthazzar." The general rubbed his sharp horn. "Their archers would change you into a hedgehog the moment you jump higher. Flying would be suicide now."

"Kažhûn is right. Once we breach the walls, you will take to the sky and attack them from above. If you attack now, you will be easy prey, General Balthazzar."

"We are getting slaughtered over there! We must do something now!" Balthazzar protested.

"Look." General Kažhûn pointed at the distant siege engines just in time for the winged Demon to watch them fire at the fortress.

The ancient siege engines threw huge boulders towards the gate and walls. However, the effect of that attack was miserable. The projectiles hit the walls and rattled over the gates, but the walls withstood the attack.

"Just what am I supposed to be looking at?" Balthazzar laughed. "You are incompetent, Kažhûn..."

The Devilkin army slowly began their retreat from beneath the fortress walls, supported by the continuous barrage from their siege engines. The Demon Lord raised an eyebrow in concern, but soon the gates trembled and cracked loudly. At the sight of this, the retreating soldiers halted and launched another attack with renewed vigor. The three commanders watched the struggle in a silence that grew increasingly awkward as minutes passed, observing how the fortress walls remained unscathed despite the best efforts of the Mages, Sorcerers, and siege engines. Ladders were shattered, set ablaze, and pushed back against the attacking forces. The losses were already high, and the unthinkable sturdiness of the walls and the gatehouse was nerve-wracking. While time wasn't in the attackers’ favour, most of the army awaited the vanguards to open the doors. Balthazzar turned to speak to the Demon Lord, but before he could, victorious cries erupted across the battlefield. The fortress doors had finally been destroyed.

"Forward! Attack!" Kažhûn yelled and the army rushed towards the breach.

"Now you can fly, Balthazzar. They will be too busy fighting for their pathetic lives to target you," the Demon Lord laughed and glided lithely towards the fight on his massive, bat-like wings without waiting for Balthazzar's response.

Kažhûn ignored his fellow General and followed the King into the battle. They were soon surrounded by their elite soldiers, unquestionably devoted to protecting the Demon Lord.

As they neared the fortress, an unsettling wave of fear gripped them. But the true horror awaited them beyond the shattered gates. Thousands of slain Devilkin littered the ground, their bodies piled beneath the towering walls. The steep staircase ahead was drenched in blood, and screams coming from everywhere were a living testament to the brutality of this battle.

The Demon Lord and his general slowed down and stopped, shocked by the scope of their losses and the defenders' unthinkable prowess. Scorch marks adorned the grey stone walls, and some of the wooden structures inside were damaged or outright destroyed.

More of their soldiers poured into the stronghold, but to the Demon Lord’s growing horror, they were met with an untouched wall, another pristine line of defense. Arrows and spells showered the Devilkin's forces mercilessly, but it was too late to retreat. They had to try to get inside.

Fighting their way towards the other gate wasn't neither fast nor easy. Archers and Mages supported the exceptional warriors in defending the strange and complicated layout of the fortress. The supporters were safely hidden on the walls of the next fortress's layer, which made them nigh impervious to the uncoordinated attacks of the Devilkins, who were supposed to exceed anyone in close combat. However, the shield wall in front of them was like a smaller version of the fortress' walls on their sides. The cost of pushing it back was high and grew with each moment. The fight was hard despite the great effort of the strongest of his warriors and mages. What was worse than that was the plummeting morale of the Devilkin's troops, who had never faced such resistance ever before. The enemys’ eerie, cold silence and calmness added to their unease. They fought and died in an intimidating silence that was unnerving for the bloodthirsty Devilkins, who were accustomed to hearing the cries of their victims. However, this time, it was questionable who was the prey.

Suddenly, the Demon Lord and General Kažhûn looked up, sensing a powerful, unexpected gust of wind. Then they heard the sound that every living being instinctively learned to respect… and fear. It wasn’t loud, but nonetheless, its menace was unmistakable. From the swirling depths of the ever-present black fog of the Shadow Realm emerged the vicious silhouette of a predator, its eyes glowing ominously in the darkness just beyond the fog’s boundaries. The rumbling intensified, and all the Devilkins not actively engaged in battle stopped in their tracks, looking skyward for the source of the blood-curdling sound.

It was the sound of a Dragon.