Chapter 572
Kaelen was soon joined by his right-hand man, Gorok. Kaelen studied Gorok’s face intently, searching for any lingering signs of last night’s insidious manipulation.
Gorok instinctively wanted to avoid Kaelen’s gaze, the shame of his actions from the night before burning within him. He remembered his eagerness, his foolish desire to showcase his lord’s strength and force the Empire to recognize their mistake. His mind had been so easily drawn into that dreamland, where his ambitious goals felt not just believable, but effortlessly achievable.
"It’s good to see you back," Kaelen said, his voice flat as he pulled out a sealed letter.
Gorok bowed, accepting the letter. "Make sure this reaches Vellok. Tell him we have no time. In battle against the Abyss, one must push out all their cards before it’s too late." Kaelen’s eyes hardened, a fierce resolve burning within them. "Give him my word: once he agrees to my suggestion and sends reinforcements to fill our numbers, we will step into the Abyss within one month." Gorok opened his mouth, a protest or question forming, but seeing the unyielding look on Kaelen’s face, he merely bowed again, transformed into a swift bird, and soared into the sky.
Once activated, Kaelen’s tech core thrust him into a state of absolute rationality. He disliked it; he preferred the nuanced deductions of his own mind, but the current situation demanded cold, hard logic. His army had one critical weakness: the incessant psychic and mental assaults stemming from the corrupted land. Individually, the Abyss demons were formidable, but this was war, and his forces’ cooperation made them stronger, more effective in battling the monstrous tide.
Unlike the Abyss’s seemingly endless supply of low-tier demons, the current battlefield was no longer viable for such weak creatures. This necessitated the deployment of mid-tier demons, those at the third and fourth stages of power. Unless Vorenza planned a "feast of carnival" where demons cannibalized each other for strength there was no feasible way for her current army to rapidly replenish large numbers of these mid-tier demons.
It was an equal fight, a brutal, grinding stalemate, but the constant psychic attacks were slowly, insidiously tipping the scales, making the conflict seem increasingly one-sided. Kaelen’s thoughts then raced to the two remaining sixth-tier mages. He doubted they’d risk themselves again by erecting another psychic barrier, especially after Vorenza’s cunning deception.
Vorenza had clearly shown her ability to exploit this vulnerability, and Kaelen desperately needed his mages in their top condition. As for the strange attack that had seized control of his men, Kaelen was completely in the dark. He’d been so close to a lead, his constructs almost pinpointing the source, but whatever it was either knew he was near or he’d simply been unlucky; the unknown entity had accomplished its goal and vanished.
Kaelen’s eyeballs darted rapidly in his skull, calculations racing through his mind. Given they were battling against demons, it might have been some kind of unknown demonic ability. But the unsettling precision, the sheer breadth of its effect, pointed elsewhere.
Could it be the gods who came along with the demons? The chances were high. These entities had consistently demonstrated an almost perfect concealment, only revealing themselves when they chose to. Kaelen’s internal calculations increasingly favored this theory. The attack had been too sudden, too seamless; there were no tell-tale fluctuations that typically preceded a magical assault. It was as if a hidden command had simply been whispered, and his men had instantly fallen under its absolute control.
Kaelen landed abruptly in front of his tent, his resolve hardening. He decided he was no longer going to wait for Vellok. He had to take matters into his own hands. He wanted to survive, he needed to survive; he couldn’t leave his fate to someone who wasn’t in imminent danger of dying at any second.
His massive consciousness swept across the now tattered fortress, slicing through the lingering psychic static, and locked onto Rattan. "Meet me in my tent," Kaelen’s voice resonated directly within Rattan’s mind, "and come with your armor blueprint for the ratfolk."