CH1418 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1418: The Fused King

Deep within the Impassable Mountain Range, in the mountainous reaches of Hermes.

The shadow of the Deity of Gods had reached the plateau’s edge. Below it, Red Mist poured down the mountain faces in continuous curtains, bridging east to west until the entire range was underlined in red — a supply line that permitted the army at the continent’s spine to pour endlessly into the Four Kingdoms without restriction.

Everything had proceeded within Mask’s calculations. Everything, except one.

The humans had not stopped attacking. But neither had they succeeded in halting the Deity of Gods. What followed was a war of attrition, and in a war of attrition the demons held the structural advantage: numbers, and the technology to multiply them. Even the Inferior Demons, long considered battlefield refuse, had been engineered into serviceable weapons. The gap between the races widened with each cycle. Humans required more than ten years to raise a soldier from birth; Inferior Demons required two, and reproduced without the complication of courtship. Time worked against humanity in every dimension that could be measured.

The unconventional techniques the humans possessed — he did not dismiss them. But technique could not repair the fundamental arithmetic of a species. As the losses accumulated, the collapse was only a matter of when.

One deviation remained. One thing that had not proceeded as calculated.

“I want to know exactly what happened.” Nassaupelle stood at the base of the Deity of Gods’ observatory and let his voice carry to every subordinate in the room. “I want it explained.”

All of them glanced at each other and looked down. No one spoke.

He was not in the habit of asking rhetorical questions — that was a weakness particular to Blood Conqueror and Resentful Heart, tools of emotion rather than cognition. The situation required no narration: large numbers of demonic beasts had materialized on the Hermes Plateau and were fighting the Symbiotic Demons. Worse — some of the Symbiotic Demons designated for dispersal through the Four Kingdoms, the long attrition campaign against humanity, had been intercepted by these demonic beasts at key choke points. Abandoned human mountain passes, once held by the old Church and now under demon control, were filling with the creatures. If that were the extent of it, he could have managed the disruption.

But among the demonic beasts, he had seen a Sky-sea Realm Nest.

That was the reason he had lost his composure.

The demon race understood demonic beasts in a way humans did not. Every Months of Demons, when magic power peaked and the Nests scattered their spores on wind and sea, ordinary wildlife underwent transformation into grotesque, bloodthirsty hybrids — useful as a harvest field for the Sky-sea Realm, worthless as a fighting force. The demonic beasts were always understood as a peripheral nuisance; the true Sky-sea Realm maintained its distance from the continent, content to aggravate the demons from the margins while expending no real strength.

But a Nest was not peripheral. A Nest was a mid-tier entity, something the Sky-sea Realm would not casually sacrifice, and Nests were built for the sea — clumsy and exposed on land. For one to appear on the Fertile Plains was not an inconvenience. It was a rupture.

Over eight hundred years of slow conquest, the demon race had consumed more than half the Land of Dawn and used the ocean at their back as a natural shield against attack from the rear. That geographic logic had held since before Nassaupelle had been relevant enough to appreciate it. The appearance of a Nest in the continent’s interior overturned the logic entirely.

Either someone had failed in a duty he could not have failed, or something catastrophic had occurred in the demon rear.

Most of his subordinates suspected the same thing. None of them were willing to say it.

Ever since the King had fallen silent — that sudden, disquieting loss of contact from the Blackstone region — an unease had taken root in Nassaupelle that he had not permitted himself to name. He and Silent Disaster had agreed not to disclose the communications failure, to prevent a collapse in morale.

“Lord Mask.” A higher ascendant stepped into the observatory. “The Birth Tower carries a message. The King has summoned you.”

“What?” He turned. “You’re certain it’s the King?”

The ascendant looked briefly startled. “The Realm of Mind undulation originates from the Presiding Holy Sea, my lord. Is something wrong?”

“No. I’m going immediately.”

He kept his face neutral. In silence, he climbed to the top of the spire, focused, and responded to the powerful undulation reaching him through the Realm of Mind.

This is genuinely from the Presiding Holy Sea. Though there was something different about it — a quality he couldn’t isolate, some shift in texture he lacked the precision to name.

“It is an honor to be summoned by Your Majesty.” Nassaupelle began in his customary register. “I confess your humble servant has been anxious without your guidance. The Sky Lord’s whereabouts remain unknown, but the Symbiotic Demons have held the Western Front well, and—”

“Enough.” The King’s voice ended him. “I know you have much to say. None of it matters. We have lost Blackstone.”

Nassaupelle forgot every sentence he had arranged. He stood in the Realm of Mind and repeated the words back, needing to hear them come from his own mind before they would become real. “Blackstone… has been lost?”

“The Sky-sea Realm has not yet completed its invasion. But it is only a question of time. Our perimeter — already weak — has been entirely destroyed. Resentful Heart died in battle.” No inflection accompanied this. The King might have been noting a change in weather. “I have ordered the abandonment of the Blackstone region. The race will retreat to the Land of Dawn.”

“I beg Your Majesty to reconsider.” Nassaupelle heard himself respond before the reasoning had fully assembled. He forced the arguments out in sequence: a migration of over a hundred million — tens of millions of the higher demons, even excluding the Inferior Demons. The Red Mist problem alone was catastrophic. How many could survive the crossing? Not one in ten. And the Land of Dawn, with the Sky-sea Realm now pressing from behind, would require a position deep in the interior — but what strongholds existed? If they’d had the capacity to hold the Fertile Plains, they would never have needed Taquila in the first place.

“Sacrifice is inevitable. It is the only viable path.” The King’s tone was not unkind. It was something worse than unkind — it was indifferent. “The Red Mist problem is solved. Upon retreat, the old Birth Tower can be relocated. We tested this at the ridge of the continent. Starfall City, Arrieta, Taquila, Hermes — every God’s Stone mine in human territory can sustain breeding operations.”

“But moving so many Birth Towers simultaneously — even with the full power of the race behind it—” Nassaupelle paused. The conclusion arrived before he invited it. “Could it be that you have already—”

“Yes. I have merged with a magic core and transformed the City into a new Deity of Gods.”

A cold shiver moved down Nassaupelle’s back.

Merger with a fixed object was permanent. The King had made himself immovable — an overseer fused into the Birth Tower like a stone set in mortar, never again to move under his own will. The cold logic of it allowed no self-exception. And somehow that was the part that reached Nassaupelle most deeply: that the King’s ruthlessness had turned inward at the end, that there was no category of sacrifice he’d been unwilling to make.

The loss of communication was explained. The transformation must have severed the connection temporarily.

But what the King had said was also correct on every logistical count. A Deity of Gods had the power to relocate Birth Towers within itself; the need for fixed strongholds to distribute Red Mist was eliminated. The migration became viable in ways it hadn’t been before the transformation.

One problem remained.

He was thinking it when the King confirmed it.

“The race no longer has time for a protracted campaign against the humans. We need their legacy shard. We need to obtain it quickly — it is the only path toward any real resistance against the current state of the Sky-sea Realm.”

To destroy humanity in the shortest possible time. Without extended campaigning. Without years of attrition that the race could no longer afford.

There was only one approach that satisfied those constraints. Nassaupelle knew it the way he knew his own ability — because the approach had been his idea, proposed and filed and never expected to be authorized. He had thought of it as a theoretical exercise.

“I order the transition to phase two of the migration,” the King announced.

It would mean earth-shattering destruction. Total and rapid. The kind of event that left nothing resembling what had stood before.

The excitement that moved through Nassaupelle surprised him with its intensity.

“As you wish, my King.”

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