The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 350. Breaking Through the Veil (4)

The expedition's relentless bombardment lasted for a full hour.

Kwaaaang!

Kwaaang!

While the artillery rained down on the fortress, the mobile units, led personally by Halo and the other commanders, struck at the demons and demonic monsters spilling out beyond the outer walls.

The acrid stench of burning flesh mingled with the chorus of screams that echoed across the battlefield.

Perched on Gratia's back, Caron glanced down and allowed a sly smile to creep across his lips, then remarked, "Charming, isn't it? The nature of warfare has shifted so much, yet they're still clinging to such outdated tactics."

"I seem to recall this plan came from the commanders' minds, not yours," Gratia said dryly. "But oath-bearer, you certainly are shameless. Weren't you the one whose original plan was to just charge the demonic monsters head-on—"

"I was merely offering some variety in tactics," Caron interrupted with mock innocence.

It was a brutal—no, an utterly merciless—war of firepower.

The commanders, gathered from across nations, discarded their old doctrines and embraced something altogether different.

This overwhelming firepower was the very strategy the Demon Realm expedition prided itself on. It was a campaign that couldn't be carried out by anyone but them, since it demanded the entire continent's stockpiles of war materials.

Mana Stones, gunpowder, all manner of precious resources—strategic treasures of each nation were being expended without hesitation.

"Until now, we've been holding back in case of the unexpected," Caron murmured, "but there's no moment more crucial for firepower than this one."

The enemy had conveniently holed up inside the fortress. Now was the perfect opportunity to bleed them dry while keeping allied losses to a minimum.

The dwarves, in particular, were in a frenzy of morale.

"Now's the time! Now! Test the performance of our new weapons!"

"More firepower! Stronger firepower!"

Perhaps it was the madness of war itself, but their shouts over the communicators were fevered with excitement.

And the mages were no better.

"This is forbidden magic..." one of the mages muttered.

"Who cares!" another snapped. "The Magic Tower Master said, no matter the method! Are we going to let those stubby dwarves outmatch us in firepower? We're the pride of mages! Pull out every high-grade Mana Stone—we can just hand the receipts to the expedition later!"

"This channel is shared with the other commanders—!"

Beeeep.

Chaos barely described it.

They said war drove people insane. Caron felt that truth settle into his bones as the madness thickened all around him.

No one here was in their right mind. Which meant that he, at least, needed to remain sane.

Because that was...

"The duty of a Warrior," Caron declared.

"For the love of—stop spewing that lunacy," Seria groaned.

"Ah, so this is why everyone calls me insane," Caron said with mock melancholy. "When the whole world has gone mad, the only sane man becomes the lunatic."

"What the hell are you babbling about now, you bastard?" Seria asked, annoyed.

"In a world full of lunatics, normalcy is madness. Which means I'm the normal one here," Caron replied.

"That damn madness is a disease," Seria snapped.

"Can the Grand Saintess speak like that?" Caron shot back.

"Go check the scriptures. Nowhere does it say I can't," Seria stated.

Caron's foul tongue twisted all their expressions into grimaces, yet he ignored them and gripped Guillotine tightly.

"Only one drop of World Tree dew left. Gratia, let's give them one last strike before we pull back. The real course of battle awaits," Caron said.

He swung his sword. The heavens split, and this time, countless smaller moons swelled into view—one after another, crowding the sky.

It was Moonfall, another of Caron's new techniques. His surging mana rippled through the air, and the moons rained down upon the earth.

"This will be my last," Caron said. "Ifrit, unleash every scrap of mana you have left."

"I've been waiting for this," the Spirit King replied, and with a roar, he released his flames in their fullest blaze.

The fortress below had become hell itself—craters yawning wide, infernal fires roaring, bombardments never ceasing. The trapped demons could do nothing but accept death as it fell upon them.

For a long, merciless stretch, Caron and his companions poured disaster upon their foes. Then, at last, they chose to withdraw.

Gratia cut swiftly through the sky. Caron patted her scales lightly and said, "Well done, Gratia."

"Oath-bearer... Perhaps it's only my imagination, but the sky has changed," Gratia pointed out.

At her words, Caron lifted his gaze.

Across the vast gray expanse, something darker was rolling in. The clouds were so thick and black they could no longer be called gray, seething with ominous power.

Caron wondered why no one had noticed until now.

And the moment he recognized their presence, something unfamiliar stirred in his chest.

"Tsk tsk," he muttered.

It was fear.

What welled up from those clouds was raw, suffocating fear. The same terror he had once felt in Desertus, standing before the Void Walker.

As if to prove that this place truly belonged to Void, violet lightning began to strike down from the black clouds above.

No one knew how long had passed when...

Booooooom!

Booooom!

From beyond the eastern horizon, colossal figures emerged. They were terrible monsters clad in the power of Void. Each one carried strength equal to that of a high demon, abominably powerful beyond measure.

Caron already knew their names.

"...Didn't expect them to move this quickly," he muttered.

The loyal foot soldiers of Void—the Void Walkers. Monsters that wielded nearly apocalyptic power had appeared on the battlefield.

At that moment, the rain of bombardments ceased. In fact, the entire battle ground fell still. Expedition troops and demons alike could do nothing but stare at the violet giants that had stepped into view.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned.

And then, it was shattered by a voice of sheer malice.

"The eye of Void watches us now. Enough blood has been spilled, and so Void has awakened. I know what you seek, Caron Leston. But this is not the place where our story shall end."

The voice of the Demon King of Havoc echoed inside Caron's skull like a curse.

"Etch this landscape deep into your eyes. For in the end, your world will look the same."

By now, the Void Walkers had reached the fortress walls and begun to rampage. Towering like mountains, the monsters unleashed Void without restraint, slaughtering everything in their path. Whatever their power touched crumbled into gray ash.

"Your thirst for vengeance, I will say that it is impressive. But do other mortals share your conviction? Witness with your own eyes how pitifully fragile life truly is. I shall watch from a single step away, observing the limits of your will," Havoc continued arrogantly, his words dripping with disdain.

Caron slowly turned his head, eyes narrowing toward a corner of the fortress—where the Demon King of Havoc sat.

"So that's how you spin it. Dressing up your fear as a strategy. Cowardly bastard," he said.

The Void Walkers had appeared earlier than expected, but it hardly mattered. They were part of the plan from the very beginning. What unsettled him wasn't their presence—it was the Demon King's intentions.

Caron's thoughts tangled, but he shook his head to clear them. He continued, "Why put on such a calm face? It'll be your forces that get torn apart first."

"You fool. Do you think you can suppress a Void Walker without the aid of my army?" Havoc asked.

"The fool is you," Caron snapped.

His lips twisted into a wicked grin as he seized the communication orb. He spoke to the commanders in a clipped, cold tone. "Troops, withdraw temporarily. Let Havoc's forces clash with the Void Walkers first. Cease bombardment—we won't waste supplies."

Fighting side by side with the enemy simply because the threat was strong seemed rationally correct, but Caron wasn't a rational man.

"Escort the wounded to the rear. Then seal the north gate."

Caron knew that if they sealed the gate with magic, the demons would have no choice but to fight the Void Walkers head-on.

At his command, the Demon King of Havoc's laughter rang out.

"So, you've become a Demon King in your own right, Caron Leston. No... I should call you the Demon King of Liberation. Come to the heart of sin. That is where our tale will conclude."

With that, the voice vanished. Only black smoke could be seen drifting from the fortress.

"What the hell is that lunatic thinking?" Caron muttered under his breath.

Seria sighed and said, "Focus on the disaster in front of us first."

"That was the plan anyway," Caron replied, then exhaled slowly, watching the Void Walker that had already toppled the eastern fortress wall. In Desertus, he hadn't even dared to dream of facing one. But now... Things were different.

"When someone offers you a gift, you take it," Caron said.

Below, Havoc's army were locked in a brutal fight with the Void Walkers. He looked down at them and smiled.

He didn't know why the Demon King had chosen this path—but this was the perfect moment for Caron's true nature to shine.

"Gratia, I'm getting off here," Caron said.

"What?" Gratia asked.

"Seria, Orion—go get some rest. I'll have some fun before coming back," Caron said.

"What insane thing are you plotting now—" Seria began, but was cut off.

"See you soon!" Caron interrupted.

Without another word, he dove straight down toward the ground. The Mad Dog hurled himself willingly into the hellscape he'd helped create.

Orion watched him plummet, then lifted the communication orb with a heavy sigh. His voice was grim, "...Reporting. Caron Leston is descending toward the enemy."

From the other end came Zerath's panicked shout, "...What did you say?"

"I repeat, Caron Leston is descending toward the enemy," Orion repeated.

"That lunatic... Lord Halo! Lord Halo!" Zerath shouted.

The communication orb erupted in chaos.

Orion, meanwhile, shook his head slowly, watching Caron shrink into a speck against the ground. He wondered what on earth went through Caron's head. After a moment of thought, he abandoned the question.

What a lunatic, Orion thought. A lunatic was just doing crazy things.

But then he glanced at Seria—the Grand Saintess trembling as she whispered desperate prayers, begging over and over, "O Light, O Light, O Light... Grant me patience, please."

Even for Orion, watching her was terrifying.

And so, Caron descended straight into the core of the enemies.

***

Kwaaaaaang!

Though Caron had fallen from an absurd height, he landed on the ground in flawless form. Gratia, panicked, had thrown a flight spell around him at the last moment, and Caron had released just enough mana upon impact to absorb the shock.

A crater blossomed beneath his feet. Several demonic monsters had been caught in the blast, their mangled corpses scattered across the ground.

"Now that's how you land," Caron said, gripping Guillotine loosely as he surveyed his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked, demons and demonic monsters loyal to the Demon King of Havoc crowded the field. Some bared their hostility at him, but most only stared, their eyes wide with fear.

Kwaaaaang!

Kwaaang!

Before they could act, the Void Walker's attack swept across the battlefield. The demons recoiled in terror, stumbling back as violet destruction tore through the earth.

Hell itself unfolded before Caron's eyes—far worse than what he had seen from the sky. Even demons, who prided themselves on knowing no fear, trembled like frightened animals.

But Caron was delighted.

The so-called war machines that were demons, shaken to their core? Nothing could be sweeter.

Fwoosh.

Caron drove Guillotine deep into the ground, inhaling sharply. The Demon King of Havoc's sudden withdrawal from the field was a complication, yes—but great shifts called for improvisation.

And Caron excelled at improvisation. The kind that was steeped in history and tradition.

"The Demon King of Havoc has abandoned you!" Caron shouted, his voice cutting across the battlefield. "He said your lives were worth no more than insects. But don't despair! I, at least, am merciful. So I'll give you your first—and last—chance. Raise your blades against the Demon King who forsook you! Join me, and take your revenge!"

It was shameless incitement. It was pure fabrication.

But the storied tongue of House Leston, and Caron's own silver-damned mouth, began to shine even here in the heart of the Demon Realm.

The long-standing tradition of the Ducal Family of Leston and Caron's silver tongue, as if possessed by the gods, began to shine even in the Demon Realm.