Chapter 402: 402

"The assassinations I planned had failed."

The humans were advancing fast,and their armies pushed forward with unstoppable force.

Meanwhile, the main demon forces waited silently, watching the chaos from afar.

"And amidst all this... what am I doing? Hahahaha!"

A loud, crazed laugh echoed through the dim chamber. Rein sat on a worn-out chair, a glass of red wine in his hand. His face was rough and tired, yet his eyes gleamed with madness. He drank the wine in one long gulp, his throat burning as he swallowed.

Beside him, Adele sat quietly with a cold, distant look. Her hands were folded, and her expression was heavy. The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows on her face, making her look even more serious.

"I shouldn’t have entered this place," she muttered under her breath. "I can’t believe I have to live like a rat, crawling in filth and breathing the same air as these people." She spat on the floor, her voice filled with disgust. "This whole place stinks of trash."

Rein frowned and set the glass down. His fingers tapped on the table, slow and tense. "This... this is cheating," he muttered, his voice trembling with anger. "I would have been happier if they sent me to the demon side. But this..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. It was almost laughable. Out of all the sides he could have ended up on, fate had dropped him among the Cult,a group that worshipped the Outer Gods.

A place crawling with lunatics.

"This is nonsense," Rein whispered to himself. "Everywhere I look, there are freaks and fanatics."

At first, he thought he could control them. He believed he could use their madness to his advantage.

But the longer he stayed, the clearer it became that they were uncontrollable. They were monsters wearing human skin. Each one was mad in their own way, proud and twisted beyond reason.

He looked toward the closed window. He could feel the eyes watching him from the outside. He knew they were watching his every movement with amusement.

He knew he was nothing but a pawn in this game.

’This Crown Game... there’s no way I can win it,’ he thought grimly. ’But since you’ve forced me into this, you’ll pay for it. Every single one of you will pay dearly.’

His expression hardened. Slowly, he raised his hand and tapped his forehead twice. A faint glow flickered under his skin before fading away. Then, he stood up and turned to Adele.

"Let’s go. I have a plan."

Adele looked at him doubtfully. "A plan? What plan now?"

Rein smirked faintly. "Just follow me. It’s better to die and get out of this hell than live among a bunch of idiots."

Outside, the world was wrapped in silence. Snow had begun to fall, covering the ground in a thick white layer.

The wind howled softly, carrying a chill that bit into the bones. The sky was grey, and the mountains stood tall like silent watchers.

On one side of the range, three large military camps stood out, their banners fluttering in the cold wind. Thousands of soldiers filled the area.

Smoke rose from the campfires, blending into the pale mist. The human army had gathered in full force, preparing for what could be the final push.

Opposite them stood a massive stone fortress, the entry gate into the Demon Continent. Dark clouds hung over it, and the faint sounds of growls echoed in the distance.

Inside one of the main command tents, the air was thick with tension.

Maps were spread across the long wooden table. The commanders of the western and eastern fronts had gathered with the High Priest of the Elves, Crebs, and Saintess Michelle.

"I never thought we’d reach this place so soon," said Hobbins, the western commander. A deep scar ran across his right eye, making his expression even grimmer.

"All credit goes to the young soldiers," said Fred, the eastern commander. His brows furrowed as he spoke. "They’ve shed blood for every inch of ground we took." He turned to Crebs. "But taking over the fortress won’t be easy."

Michelle crossed her arms and let out a short laugh. "What’s so difficult about it?" she said, almost mockingly. "We’ve won every battle so far. With you all and our superior forces, victory is certain."

Crebs, Fred, and Hobbins exchanged glances.

Their faces said everything.

She had no idea what she was talking about. Her words sounded naïve in a place where death was so close.

Hobbins leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "Confidence is good, Saintess. But arrogance is dangerous on the battlefield."

Fred nodded. "We’ll need more support from the Elves. Especially your healing units. Many of our soldiers are wounded."

Crebs looked down at the map, his silver hair catching the light from the lantern. After a moment of silence, he said quietly, "I will send an additional two hundred Elven soldiers to support the combat units. But..." His voice trailed off, heavy and uncertain.

"But what?" Michelle asked, frowning.

Crebs lifted his head. His eyes were calm but serious. "I hesitate to attack here. What if we encounter a Demon King?"

The tent fell silent. Even the sound of the wind outside seemed to fade.

A single candle flickered, its flame trembling as if afraid of what was coming.

No one spoke for a long time. The thought of facing a Demon King, a creature whose power could crush armies made even the bravest men uneasy.

Fred finally broke the silence. "If that happens... we’ll have no choice but to retreat."

Hobbins shook his head. "Retreat won’t be easy either. This mountain pass will turn into a slaughterhouse if the demons attack from both sides."

Crebs stared at the map once more. His eyes lingered on the narrow valley drawn in ink. "Then we must prepare for the worst. Our formation will be defensive at first."

.......

Outside the tent, the sound of soldiers moving filled the air with boots crunching on snow, orders shouted across the camps, horses neighing in the cold.

And in the middle of that frozen land, as snow fell endlessly from the sky, the faint echo of drums began to sound from the demon fortress. A deep, steady rhythm like the sound of war awakening once again.

The humans stood still, watching the fortress in the distance. Each heartbeat felt heavier, slower. The air was so cold that even breathing seemed to hurt.

For a brief moment, no one spoke. Then Hobbins whispered under his breath, "May the Gods protect us all."

Martina and Roosevelt stood behind the crowd, the cold wind brushing against their faces. Both looked at each other quietly, their eyes showing the same unease that hung in the air.

"Is this going to be the final battle?" Martina asked softly. Her voice carried a faint tremble.

"I think so," Roosevelt replied with tired eyes. "The buildup has been leading to this moment."

He sighed deeply, rubbing his neck. "And till now, we still haven’t found any trace of Rein."

Martina lowered her head, her brows furrowing in worry. "Do you think... he might have been kicked out?"

"Kicked out?" Roosevelt repeated, his tone filled with disbelief. He tilted his head slightly as if trying to make sense of her words. "No, that’s not possible."

He shook his head firmly. "He isn’t weak in any sense.His crafty mind won’t fall down easily..Rein."

"Then where did he disappear?" Martina asked again, her voice a mix of confusion and concern. "He should’ve made some move by now, right?"

Roosevelt rubbed his temples with his fingers, his head throbbing from stress. "Who knows?" he muttered.

"Who knows?" Martina repeated under her breath, glancing at him.

Roosevelt gave a small laugh, one that carried more frustration than amusement. "That bastard is always a pain in the neck," he said, exhaling a long breath. "Who knows what trick he might pull this time?"

...

Far away, under a pale sky tinted with smoke, two men stood facing each other.

Both looked drained, their clothes stained with dried blood and dirt.

Hans lit a cigar, the small spark glowing in the dull air. He took a slow drag, then handed it over to the man standing before him.

"You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this war," Hans said, his voice deep and rough.

Kael took the cigar without hesitation and placed it between his lips. "You could say that," he replied quietly, his tone flat but steady.

Hans glanced around, his eyes scanning the field. The air was thick with the stench of blood. A bitter, metallic smell clung to the wind. The ground was scattered with broken weapons, burnt wood, and the remains of fallen men and beasts.

Even the sky seemed heavy, covered in clouds that refused to move.

After a moment, Hans spoke again. "You know," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you remind me of someone. His style, his way of speaking, even his presence. It feels almost the same as yours."

Kael’s eyes flickered for a brief second. "Oh?" he muttered, turning his gaze toward Hans.

Hans stared back, curious yet uneasy.

Kael exhaled a thin stream of smoke and slowly removed the cigar from his mouth. His lips moved softly, forming words that were barely a whisper.

Hans squinted, trying to read them. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened in shock.

His mouth opened slightly, causing the cigar to slip from his lips and falling to the ground, scattering ash on the blood-stained soil.