Upon the back of a tall, imposing demon beast, the square-faced demon marshal sat ramrod straight, his body wreathed in demonic Qi.
He led the way at the front, with two thousand subordinates trailing behind. Among these two thousand, some were demonfolk who had been converted—mindless creatures that knew nothing but to obey orders—while the rest were members of the demon race's myriad clans, a motley mix of different species.
This was the full extent of the power he currently commanded.
The column advanced at a leisurely pace, as though they were heading out on a spring outing rather than marching to war.
The square-faced demon marshal wasn't in any hurry either. After all, Lord Bao Qi had said he was only to bring the men along as a gesture—whether they could actually provide real assistance to Shaya's side was simply left to the will of heaven.
The square-faced demon marshal actually rather looked down on that promiscuous succubus. Of course, the main reason was pure sour grapes—he couldn't have her, so he disparaged her. This extended to a measure of grumbling about Bao Qi as well; he felt his own Demon King was making far too big a fuss over nothing. That cheap woman had merely come to fetch reinforcements, and yet Lord Bao Qi actually expected him to march out with two thousand men. It was far more face than she deserved.
That wanton succubus must have served Lord Bao Qi very... comfortably indeed, which was why she'd earned this level of support.
At this thought, a lewd grin crept across the square-faced demon marshal's face. He had tasted a succubus's charms before, and they were indeed something else entirely. And Shaya, being a Demon King among succubi, was naturally not something ordinary succubi could compare to.
If the day ever came when he was promoted to Demon King, he would certainly have to sample that slut's soul-stirring delights.
Just as his mind wandered through these idle fantasies, he suddenly sensed something amiss.
The square-faced demon marshal immediately reined in his thoughts and peered ahead with wariness. What he saw made him blurt out in surprise: "Lady Shaya...?"
There was Shaya, who had departed not half a day ago, now approaching from ahead. This left him somewhat bewildered—why had the woman turned back? Though he looked down on her in his heart, she was still a Demon King after all, and the square-faced demon marshal could only maintain the respect due to her station.
The demon beast beneath him halted. The two thousand behind him stopped in unison.
"Bao Qi is such an obedient one..." Shaya's voice was honeyed and soft, her smile laden with hidden meaning.
The square-faced demon marshal frowned, alarms blaring in his mind. Shaya's attitude and expression made him uneasy, and he instinctively surveyed the surrounding terrain. His heart lurched.
He had realized that this place was a perfect ambush site—surrounded on all sides by mountains, their cliff faces soaring into the clouds, with only the front and rear providing passage in or out.
Something seemed to be closing in from every direction. The ground transmitted faint tremors, wave after wave—disturbances that even the lowliest demons could perceive, let alone the marshal himself.
He listened intently, and his face changed drastically. He opened his mouth and bellowed: "Battle stations!"
Even as the words left his lips, massive dark shapes soared into view from unknown sources, their spread wings blotting out the light overhead. The demons looked up to see one enormous eagle after another.
Sharp whistling sounds cut through the air as arrow after arrow rained down from the eagles. In the blink of an eye, dozens lay dead in pools of blood.
Ambushed! The thought exploded through the marshal's mind, but he couldn't fathom who had sprung this trap—or what role Demon King Shaya had played in it.
Wasn't he supposed to be on a rescue mission? How had he ended up caught completely off guard?
Though the demons reacted swiftly, the enemy moved faster still.
After the first volley of arrows, the surrounding forests suddenly erupted with blinding radiance—rings of multicolored light that dazzled the eye. Dozens of massive demon beasts charged out from the flanks, their broad backs carrying hulking barbarian warriors, each one grim-faced, their killing intent piercing the sky.
"Foreigners!"
Their war cries shattered the heavens.
The square-faced demon marshal wheeled his mount around, drew his weapon, and raised it high. He was about to shout something to rally morale when a intoxicating fragrance wafted past his nostrils.
A bone-melting voice drifted from behind him: "Your head—I'll be taking it."
The next instant, the marshal's field of vision abruptly shifted direction. He stared blankly at the scantily clad Demon King Shaya before him. There was a dull pain at his neck, and when he looked down, a headless corpse was tumbling from the back of a demon beast.
With battle about to begin, the marshal had been slain in an instant. Every demon who witnessed the scene was struck dumb, staring blankly at Shaya, their minds a complete fog.
Shaya giggled, her form flickering as she dissolved into a cloud of black mist that drifted away into the distance.
By now, the barbarians—empowered by various shamanic enchantments—had closed in. The vanguard cavalry crashed into the demon ranks like an unstoppable force, and wherever cold steel gleamed, another demon fell.
The ten conventional squads that followed sealed off every avenue of escape, making it clear they intended to let not a single demon slip away.