Chapter 1273: The Demons’ Guile

Twenty hours after the fireball swallowed the Tusk City’s sky, the report reached Hackzord.

He was in a western city of the Kingdom of Everwinter — its lord having just pledged allegiance, the ceremony still fresh — when the message arrived: an explosion of unusual power, substantial damage to the supply unit. He had been inclined to dismiss it as someone else’s problem. The report’s insistence on the explosion’s scale changed his mind.

He came in person.

The Western Front had no one else who could do this work. Not everyone possessed Ursrook’s strange hunger for human knowledge, the willingness to study languages and customs that his peers considered beneath them. Hackzord’s commanders were loyal and formidable and utterly useless for any task requiring they speak with a man rather than dismember one. The Upgraded mostly viewed humanity as low animals — clever enough to serve a purpose in the early stages of the war, submissive enough to be managed. You didn’t exterminate them immediately. But you certainly didn’t talk to them.

This was Valkries’ fault entirely. She had the temperament for this. Instead she was wasting herself in the Red Mist Pond, and Hackzord’s patience for waiting had grown very thin.

When he dropped toward the Tusk City, he understood immediately that something had gone seriously wrong.

The Red Mist — that thick, reliable presence — was nearly gone, wiped from the sky as though by a vast hand. Below it the city had been destroyed: collapsed buildings, blackened wooden frames jutting from the rubble in every direction. The heat struck him as he descended, and with it a pungent, chemical smell.

He followed the smell to its source.

On the street, a group of Inferior Demons had curled into themselves, their burned skins splitting and peeling. Dead in the fire. What puzzled him was the absence of any obvious fuel source — no charred wood nearby, no scorched oil stores. Only bricks and mud. He could not see how the fire had started. And there were many more bodies, farther in.

“Totolock — take ten and find the human army. Report the moment you locate them.”

“Yes, master.”

“Siacis — survey the area. Find anyone still alive.”

Both Upgraded moved off. Hackzord walked north, toward where his army had taken the worst of it.

The supply unit had been shipping obsidian and a secondary Red Mist Pond to the Tusk City — materials for the campsite being built for the Junior Demons and the Upgraded. Three hundred and fifty Inferior Demons, roughly ten Primal Demons to guard them. The dead were still in the positions they had occupied when they died; some had not even dropped what they were carrying. No sign of combat. The explosion had arrived and finished before they could react.

This was not an organized army’s frontal assault. This was a trap — something placed and triggered, invisible until it was too late. Totolock would find nothing.

The certainty of it unsettled Hackzord in a way open battle rarely did. He preferred to see the enemy. An army he could fight; a trap he had to think about.

He was thinking about it when the flash of a memory struck him — unbidden, vivid: a bright fireball in Kabradhabi’s mind, captured when Hackzord had searched that ruined consciousness in the Realm of Mind. A fireball like a small sun, blooming against the sky.

Was this what Kabradhabi had witnessed?

Hackzord went still for a moment.

“Sir.” Siacis appeared at his side, tentacles moving with the particular precision of a psychic at work. “I’ve reconstructed what happened. The supply unit had three hundred and fifty Inferior Demons and roughly ten Primal Demons. No survivors. But I believe I know how it was done.”

“Show me.”

Siacis led him to the northern city wall. Primal Demons were already digging through the debris; nearby lay shards of black metal, and a little farther on, overturned chariots — old transport vehicles, obsolete since the symbiotic demons were developed, now good only for hauling loads.

“Look.” Siacis extended a tentacle and lifted a fragment, clearly melted and re-solidified. “Assembled, these would form the shape of a vessel. The vessels were arranged in a line along the wall — hundreds of them. My conclusion: the humans loaded them with snow powder and combustible materials, used the city wall as a channel to cut off the supply unit’s retreat, and then triggered the blast.”

Hackzord knew human weapons well. He had collected many in this campaign. Both the fire forks and the fire bolts required snow powder and combustible materials; both were more complex than magic-powered weapons, their elaborate structures bearing no resemblance to anything he had seen four hundred years ago.

“If this was merely fire, how did it kill everything in the city?”

“The fire wasn’t ordinary, sir — at minimum the temperature far exceeded a normal burn. But I don’t believe it was self-combustible.” Siacis paused, tentacle tracing the outline of a chariot’s remains. “The key, I think, is the chariots. When the snow powder ignited, the heat traveled through the city gates to the chariots. Chariots configured for heavy transport rather than Red Mist storage — they exploded, and the explosion dispersed the Mist.” A soft hiss. “At a sufficient temperature, everything burns. Including us.”

The giant iron barrel fragments were, in their strange way, reassuring. Whatever the humans had done, it had required extensive preparation. They could not produce this effect at will, could not drop it on a moving army. As long as he took precautions, the main force would be safe.

The deeper problem was inspection. He could not trust Primal Demons or Inferior Demons to search a human city thoroughly — they lacked the patience and the judgment. Suspending the Red Mist transports would not prevent a second trap. He needed intelligent eyes.

He had an idea for where to find them.

“Don’t enter the city yet,” Hackzord said. “Send humans to inspect it first. As for the supply unit — I can’t draw replacement Inferior Demons from other locations. Let the Snow Reflection Castle make up the loss. Earl Marwayne should be eager to prove himself useful.”

He paused, surveying the ruined street. The fire had taken everything within range with perfect indifference. He needed to understand that.

“And while we’re at it — many of the northern nobles despise the Graycastle men. Offer them the weapons we’ve captured. Give them something to fight over.” His voice was unhurried, almost idle. “Let resentment do our work for us.”

Chapter 1273 - The Demons’ Guile

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn 20 hours later, Hackzord received a report saying a fireball blasted in the Kingdom of Wolfheart, which caused substantial damage to the supply unit. At that time, he was still in a city in the west of the Kingdom of Everwinter, whose lord had just pledged allegiance to him. To be honest, Hackzord did not really want to deal with such a trifle. However, the report stressed that the explosion was exceptionally powerful. He thus decided to come to take a look in person. Hackzord dreaded dealing with human beings, but he was the only one capable of this job at the Western Front. Not everyone was as smart as Ursrook who would like to learn various things, even though they appeared to be useless. Most of the Upgraded viewed humans as low lives and certainly would not invest their time in learning their language. His commanders were very loyal to him and were all outstanding warriors. However, they also despised the mankind. They would have probably ripped men apart had he sent them to negotiate with human beings. Nevertheless, men were submissive and meek animals. Although they were weak, they were somewhat clever. Hence, they could replace many Inferior Demons at the early stage of the war. It was, therefore, not advisable to exterminate them immediately. This was actually all Valkries’ fault. She should have been the perfect Senior Lord to communicate with human beings, but she wasted her time in the Red Mist Pond. Hackzord felt that his patience was running out. When he arrived at the Tusk City, however, he immediately realized that something had gone terribly wrong. The Red Mist was extremely thin as though it had been wiped off the sky. The city had been devastated. Remains of houses and blackened wooden frames could be seen everywhere. As he dropped, Hackzord felt the high temperature and greeted a pungent smell. He soon discovered where that smell came from. A group of strange Inferior Demons curled themselves up on the street, their burned skins peeling off. Apparently, they had died in the fire. What puzzled Hackzord was that there were no visible signs of combustible materials around them, apart from some bricks and mud. Hackzord did not know how the fire had started. He saw more than one burned Inferior Demon. “Totolock, take ten people with you and search for the human army. Report to me immediately after you find them.” “Yes, master.” “Siacis, look into this matter and see if there’s anyone still alive.” “Yes, sir.” The two Upgraded soon heeded his order. Hackzord strolled along the street toward the northern area where his army sustained the greatest damage. According to the report, one supply unit comprised of Inferior Demons was attacked. These poor Inferior Demons, who had never had a chance to upgrade themselves, were pretty much like laborers and slaves in the human society. At that time, they were shipping obsidian and a secondary Red Mist Pond to the Tusk City, for the purpose of building a campsite for the Junior Demons and the Upgraded. From the remains at the scene and the scattered obsidian, it was obvious that the Inferior Demons suffered the blow while they were working, for some of them still stayed in the last position when they died. The fact that there was no sign of a fight indicated that human beings had not confronted the supply unit directly. The explosion had ended as quickly and unexpectedly as they had occurred. Hackzord thereby judged that this was a trap of the enemies rather than the work of an organized army under the scrutiny of the Bogle Beasts. Totolock might not find anything during this search. This fact made Hackzord feel increasingly uneasy. He would rather see the human army swarm toward him than hiding in the dark. He did not really care about those Inferior Demons, but he could not accept any failure at the Western Front. If the main force encountered a trap like this, the result could be disastrous. Without a doubt, human beings, once again, used “fire” as their weapon. Hackzord was familiar with fire. In the past Battles of Divine Will, they had also used fire to attack the cities occupied by the human race. They rarely used it simply because the Red Mist could easily get burned at a high temperature. But it was his first time seeing self-combustible fire. Unless the whole city had become a furnace. But how could it be possible? If the mankind had the ability to achieve such an incredible transformation, he must inform the king of the potential danger at the Western Front. “Hang on… Fire?” An image suddenly flashed across Hackzord’s mind. It was an image he had captured when he had been searching for Kabradhabi’s memories in the Realm of Mind. A bright fireball blasted in the air like the rising sun. Was this weapon what Kabradhabi had seen? Hackzord shuddered involuntarily. While he was lost in thought, Siacis’ voice came to him suddenly, “Sir, I’ve figured out what happened. There were 350 Inferior Demons in the supply unit and around 10 Primal Demons that guarded them. I haven’t found anyone that survived, but I think I know how those low lives did that.” “Really? Then tell me.” “Please follow me.” Hackzord thus followed Siacis to the northern city wall where some Primal Demons were digging something. Around them lay a few black metal fragments. A little farther on, Hackzord saw some tumbled chariots. After they had developed powerful and flexible symbiotic demons, these old- school war machineries were obsolete and only served as transportation tools. “Look,” Siacis said as he extended out his tentacle and grasped one fragment that were clearly melted down. “If we put them together, we could roughly see the shape of a vessel. These vessels spread out in a line along the city wall, and there were around hundreds of them. I believe those low lives put snow powder and combustible materials in them, in an attempt to cut the retreat of our supply unit, and then launch the attack.” Hackzord was now very familiar with humans’ weapons, and he had indeed obtained a lot of them in this battle. Both “fire forks” and “fire bolts” required combustible materials such as snow powder to be effective. They were much more complicated than weapons powered by magic. Because of this, most of these weapons had pretty complex structures, which was something that Hackzord had not seen 400 years ago. “If this was just an ordinary fire, why did it cause so much damage?” “Sir, the fire wasn’t ordinary. At least, its temperature was much higher than an ordinary one. However, I don’t think it was self-combustible. The key, in my opinion, may lie in the chariots.” “What do you mean?” Hackzord pursued. Siacis was a psychic, so he possessed a greater insight than the other Upgraded. That was why Hackzord brought him to the battlefield. “When the snow powder was ignited, the heat was transmitted to the chariots through the city gates. The chariots are usually used to ship heavy equipment rather than the storage tanks for the Red Mist. The chariots thus exploded and further broke down the Red Mist,” Siacis hissed while waving his nimble tentacle. “You know that everything would burn at a certain temperature, including us.” Hackzord was a little relieved after hearing Siacis’ explanation. No matter what combustible materials they were, the fragments of the giant iron barrels made him feel settled a lot. It seemed that human beings needed to make a lot of preparations beforehand to make this kind of explosion happen. They could not throw the explosives at their will. Hackzord thus believed that these traps would not pose a threat to the main force of his army as long as he took precautions. Hackzord certainly did not think it easy to inspect a city occupied by human beings in a short period of time. Suspending the transportation of the Red Mist Pond and the storage tanks would not stop a second explosion either. He could not entrust this matter to the simple-minded Primal Demons and Inferior Demons. The best way was to have human beings attack each other. “Sir, what should we do next?” “Don’t enter the city just yet. Let men inspect the city for us,” Hackzord said quickly. “I can’t get more Inferior Demons from other locations. Let the Snow Reflection Castle make up the loss. I believe Earl Marwayne would love to serve me.” “Also, shouldn’t we obtain some of the enemies’ weapons?” Hackzord went on. “Many noblesloathe the Graycastle men. Give them an opportunity to avenge themselves.”