Chapter 328
A new, fully regenerated arm replaced the one it had sacrificed during the battle with the general. Though its body had been restored to full strength, the energy required to regrow the limb had consumed the remainder of the soul’s power.
The gargoyle stared at its hand, clenching and unclenching its fist, a mixture of fury and despair washing over it. The power to ascend had been so close, yet now it was beyond its grasp. A primal roar of frustration tore from its throat, echoing across the battlefield as its wings unfurled.
But the frenzy that had consumed it moments before faded as quickly as it had come. Though enraged, the gargoyle knew better than to let its emotions cloud its judgment. Its newfound strength would still make it a more formidable opponent, and it had a commanding position to return to.
With a low growl, the demon soared back to its vantage point, casting a final, lingering glance at the battlefield below. The soul of the ogre general had given it a taste of what could have been, but for now, it would have to bide its time.
Malzor’s eyes followed the gargoyle from the Abyss. He knew that demons like this one, so close to the next stage of power, were the most dangerous. A thin smile crossed his face. The gargoyle had been denied its ascension today, but the hunger for more power would only grow.
In the demon hierarchy, desire was the ultimate driver, and Malzor knew all too well how dangerous a demon on the brink of evolution could become.
Malzor’s gaze lingered on the battlefield, his thoughts swirling with ambition and hunger. The fallen ogre general’s soul had been an unexpected windfall for the gargoyle, but Malzor was already strategizing for the next opportunity. He anticipated the goblins’ response to this crushing defeat. They wouldn’t allow such a significant loss to go unanswered, and when they sent another champion or leader, Malzor would be ready. This time, he would claim the soul himself, and it would be the fuel to propel him further into his dominion over the Abyss.
He allowed himself a brief smile. The soul of a general had given the gargoyle a taste of ascension, but Malzor knew that with patience and cunning, it would be he who devoured the next one. A demon of his stature had no need to rush. His position as leader was stable for now, but if he could personally deliver the next crushing blow, the respect and fear of the other demons would solidify his rule over them, leaving no room for challengers. The thought of it filled him with dark anticipation.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, chaos had overtaken the ogre forces. With the death of their general, their organized ranks crumbled into disarray. Panic set in among the remaining ogres, who had been hardened by the battle but now faced overwhelming odds without their leader’s guiding presence. In their desperation, they attempted to retreat, but their flight from the eroded, demon-infested land only led to disaster.
The ogres broke formation, abandoning the disciplined ranks that had kept them alive thus far. Their retreat was panicked, and as they fell back haphazardly, they exposed their vulnerable flanks and backs to the pursuing demons. The horde, sensing weakness, descended upon them with ravenous hunger. Lesser demons, driven by their insatiable desire for strength, surged forward and tore into the fleeing ogres.
The battlefield became a slaughterhouse, with demons feasting on both the flesh and the souls of the fallen. Each kill, each devoured soul, granted them strength, causing the demons to grow stronger and more frenzied with every bite. The ogres’ ranks thinned rapidly as their warriors were torn apart, their essence consumed by the fiends in pursuit.