The Gathering Storm. (72)

Everyone looked at Greg, waiting for him to continue. His words carried a sense of urgency and determination, echoing through the room.

"Do not leave the Third Level and stay in groups... We acquired a lot of valuable things while preparing for the compaign, I think we need to use them in advance," Greg stated firmly, his eyes scanning the room for reactions. The General of the Crimson Battalion closed his six eyes, awaiting a response.

Rose, a creature with a beautiful porcelain face and a long neck, raised a valid concern. "We don't know who our enemy is," she said, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Who are we going to use these things against?"

Mina spread her hands, acknowledging the dilemma. "I don't have any ideas," she admitted. "But this does not mean that the battle is lost even before it begins. It is necessary to abandon all attempts to disconnect and finally work as a team. If another Alliance is behind this, will we have another chance?"

Roxy's mummy, who fiddled with the dirty bandages around her neck, voiced her worries. "Okay, I agree that we have to fight to the end, but with whom? We are treading on thin ice—a wrong step, and we will be destroyed."

Uchi, the oldest of those present, a turtle with a human face, chimed in with his wise words. "Our enemy is hiding in the shadows, and we are in the light. As in that joke about the dead end, we only see the wall ahead, and the one behind us has already prepared a weapon covered with poison. Whether we like it or not, we need to act aggressively. Does anyone have any guesses about Niaz's death?"

John, a gnome with bushy eyebrows and a blue mouth with crooked fangs sticking out in different directions, raised his hand and spoke up confidently. "I have," he declared. "I checked his weapons before sending his personal belongings to the Artifact Pavilion. His Iron Hoop fell apart in my hands. I compared a lot of things with such a phenomenon and experimented with similar materials. Only one spell could corrode a Rare Artifact to such a state—Destructive Resonance."

Whispers swept through the office as the revelation sank in. The idea that someone from the Winged Alliance, capable of using such a powerful spell, might be responsible for Niaz's death was met with disbelief and anger. The unfair treatment of the Infernal Legion was discussed, and predictions of a bloody battle filled the room.

In the midst of the chaos, the creatures of the Infernal Legion were divided into teams based on their strengths and characteristics.

The first team consisted of arrogant and bloodthirsty creatures who were the shadow rulers of various Alliance forces: Uchi, Gena, twins Clark and Clem, Sam, and Lena—code-named Yellow.

The second team comprised cunning and greedy individuals who sought to gather as many Spiritual Stones as possible: Krohn, Trak, Chang Qing, Madeleine, and Gosha—code-named Red.

The third team, the weaker link, stuck together, aware of their limitations: Roxy, John, Drak, Rose, and Salon—code-named Gray.

And finally, the loyal generals who were tasked with coordinating the teams: Mina, Greg, Mark, and Kai—code-named Purple.

Each team had its own objectives and roles to play in the upcoming battle, each crucial to the success of the Infernal Legion. The meeting had brought about conflicting opinions, but compromises were made as they understood the need for unity and cooperation in the face of an unknown enemy.

As the meeting drew to a close, Greg motioned for me to stay behind. We found ourselves alone in the office, the weight of the impending battle heavy on our shoulders.

"Everything is ready," Greg said, his voice filled with a mix of determination and concern. "Tonight, in the basement of the Onyx pub. Don't disappoint, you have to survive."

I nodded. The fate of the Infernal Legion hung in the balance, and it was up to each and every one of us to fight for our survival.

As I mentioned earlier, my knowledge was enriched by the insights granted by the Spectral Familiars.

Despite being in close proximity to the very creatures I despised, I could delve into their past actions and comprehend the reasons behind their seemingly irrational behavior. It was as if I could peer into their thoughts through a transparent glass.

However, today I realized that the information I possessed could have been obtained by a mundane mechanical spy or a hundred such contraptions. But still it was knowledge that anyone could have unearthed, revealing the true culprit responsible for the waning strength we faced.

Leaving the confining walls of the building behind, I stepped out into the open, my gaze fixated on the expanse of the blue sky. Despite my desire to integrate into this world, conflicting realities continued to assail me, leaving me disoriented.

"Is something troubling you?" Yuna's concerned gaze met mine, her scarlet lips pressed tightly together.

Placing my hand gently on the top of her head, I replied softly, "I'm yearning to feel the warmth of your body without delay."

A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she timidly tucked her legs beneath herself and averted her gaze.

Why does this illusionary world persist in breaching the depths of my repugnance?

As I involuntarily squeezed the tips of her ears, a pained cry escaped her lips, jolting me back to reality.

It is indeed too early.

The meeting had adjourned, but the true struggle lay ahead. Instead of returning to the castle, I opted to rent a house on the island and commanded my subordinates to abandon Ralhond and safeguard my territory.

---

Yuna lay in my arms, succumbing to a deep slumber as I activated the Hypnosis of Breathing. The evening silence enveloped us.

Donning a cloak and trading my armor for thick black robes, I adorned a mask resembling a bloodthirsty demon.

I proceeded to seal the paper windows and doors with a restraining spell.

[The Elixir of Sleep has been activated.

Duration: 13 hours.]

Descending carefully to the ground, I held my breath and skillfully utilized Shadow Steps to evade the watchful eyes of the sent fighters who guarded every street on the southern island. Navigating through the winding back alleys and circling the northern perimeter of the island three times, I discreetly entered an inconspicuous tavern nestled at the very heart of a residential building.

The dimmed lighting failed to conceal the revelry within, with inebriated beings sprawled across round tables, indulging in mind-stimulating elixirs that blurred the boundaries between reality and illusion.

The bartender, engrossed in pouring yet another toxic drink into a glass behind the metal counter, caught sight of me and promptly emerged to greet me. Leading me towards the half-conscious patrons, he guided me past them, eventually arriving at a door that led to the latrine.

Fortunately, the mask I was wearing wasn't just to hide my identity; it also served as a shield against the noxious odors and powdery poisons that permeated the air. Otherwise, I might have been compelled to surrender my soul to the devil in order to cease my olfactory senses altogether.

The diminutive bartender moved about on two front paws, his fingers clinging to the centuries-old filth-coated floor, eventually guiding me to the final door. I took care to avoid touching the surrounding environment as I stepped over frozen puddles, involuntarily summoning Dark Threads above the floor.

The wooden door creaked open reluctantly, propelled by a rusty key. Tossing a few Spiritual Stones to the bartender as a token of gratitude, I began my descent into the tunnel that unfurled before me.

Rustling softly with soft soles, I delved further into the enveloping darkness, counting the steps until I reached the 972nd. At that precise moment, I uttered the appropriate phrase:

"Aperta kinmosu."

I lifted my mask slightly, inhaling the invigorating scent of mint that permeated the room. Seating myself on the floor, I found myself amidst a low-ceilinged secret chamber, where the very creatures I had encountered previously had gathered. Their faces obscured by an assortment of masks, it appeared I had arrived at the climax of their discussion.

Over ten creatures now fervently proposed a series of audacious ideas, their true motives laid bare before all:

"We must dethrone the Leader."

Tension tightened its grip on every fiber of the seated creatures, the one who put forth this notion opting not to add further fuel to the fire.

Accidentally, sweaty tentacles clung to a nearby vessel, and Kron, unsure how to manage his excitement, inadvertently shattered the glass upon the floor.

As the echoes of destruction subsided, Kron's hissing voice pierced the air, his words laced with a warning growl, "Do you even comprehend the implications of what has been proposed?"