Demon Lord: Erotic Adventure in Another World-Chapter 467: The Hidden Hand Brings Victory!

Seven hours after their valiant call to arms...

The clash of steel mixed with the roars of pure confidence as the two armies clashed. Ogres tossed boulders the size of cows at the simple stone walls, crushing soldiers beneath the rubble. Minotaurs smashed their bodies with their colossal figures of pure muscle.

Knights charged forward, desperate for victory, cutting into the monster hordes, slaying, vanquishing until their confidence and pride shattered in the might of a troll's brutal and impossible physical might.

There was only so far confidence, drive and determination could take a man.

Until everything came crashing down.

***

"Hold the courtyard!"

"Push back the orcs, use those wooden planks!"

Orders barked from the commanding knights, desperate to keep the monsters out of the inner keep and courtyard where the last stand would take place.

Alan's blade dripped with black, blue and green hues of monster blood.

He could still sense the moment of victory, and there wasn't a light of defeat in his eyes as he continued to push on. Determined to win, to fight until his last breath.

"Your Grace! The enemy numbers are less than five hundred!"

"I see. What about our numbers?"

Alan swallowed his delight, grasping an iron spear and tossing it from the wall, down into the sea of orc flesh pressed against the gate.

A deep, rumbling cry filled the air, shaking the walls like a hammer pounding against steel. The figure was a troll, seven metres tall, towering over the stone walls with a single boulder clutched in its hand.

Alan's eyes widened, his hand grasping his sword... struggling to swallow, he rushed forward, the entire moment in slow motion, as the knights on the battlement staggered at the appearance of the horror.

"It's arm! attack it's arm, use fire!" Alan's shout, almost a scream silenced by the troll's powerful breaths. "ATTACK!"

The men couldn't hear him their eyes darting from side to side, bodies shuddering.

No matter what training a man endured, to come face to face with an abomination that surpasses human understanding for the first time. That feat was not so easy to overcome, and courage and valour alone could not protect their mind.

"Flee! Flee for your lives!"

One voice, the voice of a convict turned knight, someone who fought dozens of battles beside Alan, but he didn't fight the Demon Queen directly because Alan wanted to protect the knights from those difficult and hellish battles.

That choice now backfired, as his terrified shriek overwhelmed Alan's tired, hoarse call to attack.

The sons of Grigor crumbled.

All valour dead.

Rushing, screaming, crying and shouting, the once valiant men broke.

They scrambled down the stairs, running into the courtyard, and leaving only Alan atop the battlement with a handful of knights. His feet planted firmly, sword in hand, and his eyes staring at the monster before him.

Grrrr!

The Troll narrowed its huge, yellow eyes and snorted through its massive nostrils.

Mocking and enjoying the fearful humans.

It lifted the massive stone, a part of the former barracks, a place where Alan trained with the hundreds of knights and taught them how to fight, how to face monstrosities with a clear heart.

"Take its arms, cut them down with fire!" A low, broken grunt... Alan's eyes became dark, filled with a new emotion.

Gone was the boundless sense of belief and faith, replacing it... Rage, anger and hatred.

He didn't scold the terrified knights and warriors, instead putting his sword into a barrel of oil, before he touched a torch, creating a blade of relentless fire.

"I will keep you safe, my brothers!"

Alan's foot stepped onto the wall, and he noticed the troll focused on him as its arms began to slam down. "Not today!" Alan bellowed and jumped into the air, sword above his head, divine power and flames mixed in a swirl of power.

'I won't make it in time!'

Alan's body drifted through the air in an arc, but the troll's arms would easily smash the wall before he could reach it.

A sense of frustration suddenly became confusion and wonder.

'What?!'

The troll's movements stopped as his blade sliced down, and Alan reached his target.

A series of thick, sticky threads of silver shone in the flames of Alan's blade, holding the troll's arms in place... "A spider's webbing?"

"FALL!"

Alan's sword split the troll's arm, which fell from its shoulder in a gush of black blood.

"KILL IT!" His shout echoed.

Immediately, the other knights followed up with a volley of flaming arrows aimed at the troll's head. Alan's blade cleaved through its flesh, creating a disgusting scent of burned pork. The troll's skin sizzled under the burning blade of Alan, who kicked off the troll's chest, enjoying its eyes now filled with fear.

"How do you like it, huh? Fucker!"

Alan remembered Ryuji once performing a certain action, along with the world "Fucker" and stuck his middle fingers up while flying back onto the wall.

He smashed down, rolling over, caught by a group of knights... while the troll collapsed onto the horde of orcs, crushing them into minced pork.

The ground started to tremble with vibration.

Lumina finally made her move.

She didn't have the power to stop thousands of monsters alone, even if she did. After these people treated her husband and treated her sisters, she couldn't be so forgiving.

The ground trembled and quaked under the sudden collapse, which crushed minotaurs, orcs and goblins into paste.

Lumina finally made her move.

She didn't have the power to stop thousands of monsters alone, even if she did. After these people treated her husband and treated her sisters, she couldn't be so forgiving.

If Alan died, she would destroy them all in an instant, but she felt that wasn't what Asmodeus wanted.

Her life as a goddess no longer mattered.

Instead, she finally got the peace and chance she desired for all those years, hundreds, thousands of them in loneliness following Mephisto's manipulative words like a fool.

'Now... I just have to be cute, and do things I enjoy.' Lumina thought to herself while lingering in the darkness.

A weaved net of spider silk soared through the air, like a piece of cloth lost in the wind. It fluttered through the sky, leaking sticky, venomous substances.

With the flick of her back legs, the netting wrapped over the army attacking the walls, smothering dozens of orcs, suffocating and paralysing them the moment they breathed in the sticky venom laced onto the threads in a liquid form that turned into a gas at high temperature.

She skittered through the shadows, an arachne able to hide and mix in, her fingertips growing sharp, venomous nails that, when piercing the skin of goblins and orcs, caused their brain to shut down, a neurotoxin leaving them dead in an instant.

With a single touch, their bodies stopped.

Heartbeat. Brain activity. Neurons in the spine and nervous system.

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All of them stopped in a moment by such a deadly poison.

Lumina was once a goddess of light, but a deadly and wicked black widow, her evolution caused after Asmodeus accepted her even as a monster.

The moment she saw him on that plan, and began following him. She knew who he was and what was happening, despite lacking the ability to control her body and acting on instincts until they mated.

Now she was devoted and obsessed.

With a gaze up at the bright walls, she slipped into the darkness, targeting the strongest races to help save her beloved's dearest friend.

On the wall, the knights began to notice the strange change in the enemy's behaviour.

"Your Grace!"

Alan's eyes narrowed as the orcs started to collapse, one by one, and those who survived fled into the darkness like rats before collapsing and twitching on the ground.

It took less than two minutes for a horde over five hundred strong to dwindle to a few hundred, giving Alan's heart a shock. The goddess Serena didn't fight directly because she needed to return to Asmodeus to continue her manifestation.

"But it seems your blessing still lingers with me..."

His eyes watching the beautiful white spider fleeing into the darkness, towards the west.

"Men... I don't ask you to face your fears, to fight to your death. But look! Behold the enemy is dwindling. If we do not fight now, then victory may slip from our hands!"

Alan regretted sending the elves and other armies to the west before the battle started. He thought the demon queen would target her rival. A slightly selfish reasoning. Yet it turned out to be wrong, though he knew those warriors were here for Asmodeus.

However, despite their speed, breaking away from the wall and fleeing upon hearing Alan's words, some of the fearful knights snapped out of their terror. It seemed like they were in a nightmare, but Alan's words didn't hold any pity or mockery.

He spoke with a powerful voice but in a gentle tone. Alan didn't blame them or demean them; he just told them a simple fact that they could win.

They could not let it go.

"Come on...!"

"We have to fight, stand up!"

"The Duke is fighting alone! Where is your pride? Your honour?!"

It was another turning point, one that caused the army at their breaking point to unite and return into the fray alongside Alan.

This time, it wasn't his divine aura or the goddess but Alan himself.

They returned despite knowing the terrors and fears of what might face them.

It was the moment Alan's quality as a single man, a single duke, was tested, and he passed the judgement with hundreds of knights and warriors pulling themselves together.

They offered thanks, apologies and rushed to grab a crossbow or longbow, all of them lacing the walls and firing upon the lingering enemies.