The Decisive Battle on the Dakan Plains (1)

In the Dakan Plains northwest of the Lionel Kingdom, the Demon King's army had gathered.

There were fifty thousand in all. The plains were filled with the Demon King's black armor as soldiers formed ranks and drilled while countless horses whinnied. Behind them, countless tents had been pitched, and vast quantities of supplies had been stockpiled.

At the center of the main camp, the generals and senior officers of the Second Front Army, entrusted with conquering the Lionel Kingdom, had gathered in a huge tent and were holding a council of war.

Deep inside the tent, General Gare sat in an enormous commander's chair. Without moving his massive body, he listened to his subordinates while studying the map spread across the table.

Gare was known for making swift decisions, but now he harbored deep uncertainty. In truth, he was not the only one; all fifty thousand soldiers gathered here likely shared the same unease.

It had already been several months since word had come that Demon King-sama had been killed. Communications with the homeland had been severed, and they still could not even confirm whether he was alive or dead.

The information was contradictory and confusing.

They could hardly make any rash moves, while the cutoff of supplies from the rear had left them worried about provisions.

They had continued holding meetings almost every day, but the council of war dragged on without producing any clear answer.

"Was Demon King-sama really killed?"...