In the Vastyrion Realm, the alliance stood ready.
Armies stretched endlessly across the land, formations set for both defense and offense. Lines of soldiers held their positions with shields raised and pikes planted firmly into the ground. Behind them stood Aldervain's newest creation, a massive siege weapon engineered by General Fred himself.
The Big Canon.
Its barrel was forged with extreme sharpness and compressed explosive cores, each shell containing a hundred refined atoms. A single blast carried a recorded statement of annihilating over forty thousand demons. The drawback was its reload time, which required three hours. Still, it stood protected behind heavy cavalry reserves and layered cannon defenses positioned in front. No demon would reach it easily.
King Baldrick of Aldervain sat atop his warhorse beside his generals. To his right stood King Johan of the North Snow Kingdom, accompanied by his own commanders. The two kings rode forward and clasped hands.
"Baldrick of Aldervain," Johan said firmly, "we are allies once again. I hope we win this war."
Baldrick nodded, his voice calm but heavy.
"Now we are absolutely ready. Another blood-soaked era begins."
As the armies shifted, countless divisions moved into formation. Infantry advanced in disciplined lines, shields locked, pikes aligned. Flexible cavalry occupied the high hills, while the massive warriors of the Big Bulls Republic took their defensive positions.
The Big Soldiers' general rode across the second hilltop atop a massive tiger, his presence alone shaking the ground. His division specialized in countering flying demons, a role they had mastered through brutal experience.
He raised his weapon and roared,
"Now! Prepare yourselves! We are the Big Soldiers! We will not fail!"
His warriors answered with thunderous shouts.
Far to the east, twenty two kilometers away by the river flank, twenty three thousand allied troops stood ready. Three hundred barrage cannons were lined along the shore, accompanied by a single Missile Gun, another invention by General Fred. Among these forces were four thousand archer cavalry and two thousand four hundred sword cavalry units.
Then, from the distance, the sky tore open.
A massive portal formed, radiating burning crimson light.
Every soldier across every flank saw it.
It was enormous.
Even the defenders stationed atop Aldervain's walls witnessed it. The North Snow Kingdom saw it as well. The portal was so vast it seemed to eclipse the horizon.
Signals were raised across the battlefield. The offensive phase was approaching. Pikemen positioned at the riverbank tightened their grips, supported by burning archer divisions ready to release hell upon command.
King Baldrick quietly drank a vision potion, enhancing his sight beyond natural limits. Through the portal, he saw it.
Countless demons.
An endless flood of twisted beings poured forth. Giant demons shook the ground with each step. Burning creatures with massive frames and monstrous forms filled the air.
The portal itself was nearly endless, though still small compared to the infinite Vastyrion Realm.
King Johan rode his horse to the hilltop, preparing his army alongside Aldervain's forces. When his eyes finally adjusted to the scale, his breath caught.
Endless demons marched forward.
The ground trembled violently as towering giants advanced, accompanied by hordes of creatures larger than any human.
Johan calculated rapidly.
Ten million.
The allied forces numbered only four million.
"What the fuck…" he muttered.
Baldrick teleported beside him, appearing with his horse intact.
"Even seeing them from afar, I came to confirm it myself," Baldrick said grimly. "They are too many. Can we truly handle this?"
Johan said nothing. Hope was all that remained.
Baldrick's gaze searched the battlefield.
Michael was nowhere to be found.
Then the last demon emerged from the portal.
Dero.
He dwarfed even the giant demons. His body radiated overwhelming heat, his massive sword burning with unnatural glow.
Johan clenched his teeth. He had faced countless giant demons before, especially alongside the 9th Sentinel. But this presence was different.
And yet, Johan knew.
Dero was not the boss.
The true demon lord was not in Vastyrion.
Where was Michael?
The demons charged.
Baldrick and Johan returned to their flanks, shouting orders as the battlefield erupted.
The second Aldervain army advanced first. Flexible pikemen surged forward, supported by cannon fire. Explosions ripped through demon ranks as bodies disintegrated into ash. Pikemen pierced through demonic flesh, the clash brutal and relentless.
The North Snow cavalry struck next. Blades flashed as they decapitated insect demons, while archer cavalry unleashed precise volleys, striking flying demons clean through the skull.
Atop the hills, the Big Bulls Republic held their ground. Long pikes impaled swarming aerial creatures, the sky darkened by wings and blood.
Though only twenty thousand in number, their discipline was absolute. Other units reinforced western trenches, locking the battlefield down.
The Big Bulls general charged alone, swinging his axe-fused pike. His tiger roared beneath him as they tore through massive flying demons.
"Damn you demons!" he shouted. "You smell like shit! Even my fart smells better!"
With a single punch, winter air exploded, annihilating thousands of flying demons at once. He laughed wildly, slashing and stabbing without pause.
His tiger spoke mid-battle,
"Don't get too confident. There are too many!"
The general only laughed harder.
His name was Alonder, a four hundred thousand year old Big Bull warrior. Standing over two hundred forty centimeters tall, his body was massive and overwhelmingly strong. Though not flexible, he was far from slow.
Two hundred thousand years ago, he had slain a demon assistant capable of creating infinite universes while trapped within a dream realm.
But none of that mattered now.
He fought demons that stank.
At the center flank, General Fred led his cavalry into battle. At only nineteen years old, his presence was terrifying.
His sword emitted smoky crimson glow, forged with poisonous atomic compounds. Once it pierced demon flesh, the poison spread instantly, destroying organs and killing within four seconds.
His cavalry wielded the same weapons.
"Charge!" Fred roared. "Do not fall back!"
They carved through demon ranks mercilessly.
At the eastern river flank, one hundred barrage cannons opened fire. Giant demons fell instantly.
These cannons were not ordinary. They were upgraded using experimental solid liquid fire infused with demon blood salts, specifically designed to exterminate demons.
Reloading soldiers screamed curses as they fired again. Giant demons collapsed, heads severed, blood flooding the river until it turned crimson.
The Missile Gun remained unused, guarded by twenty operators.
Archers continued raining death upon lesser demons, while sword cavalry clashed violently with humanoid demons. Many cavalrymen were thrown aside or killed, but others struck back with incredible speed, cutting down their foes.
The river was now fully contested.
On the west side, sword cavalry and pikemen fought relentlessly. On the east side, giant demons were obliterated by cannon fire. Despite casualties on both sides, the alliance held the advantage.
King Johan fought on the frontline, cutting down flying and hybrid demons while the Big Canon finally fired.
The explosion was catastrophic.
Over ten thousand giant demons were erased in a single blast.
The canon began its three hour reload.
North Snow's fourth division surged forward, breaking through demon lines as lightning split the sky and rain poured violently over Vastyrion.
Baldrick fought alone on the western hills, drawing enemy forces away. His horse was enhanced by potion, his sword upgraded beyond measure. His armor was thick, his cloak flowing behind him as he slaughtered endlessly.
He did not retreat.
His stamina was infinite. His strength passively amplified with every strike.
Demons fell by the hundreds.
Elsewhere, in the Twin Realm, a mirrored version of Vastyrion cloaked in darkness and rain, Michael stood alone.
His hooded cloak floated as he hovered above the ground. Bandaged hand gripping his sword, his presence was calm.
Before him stood Azmodan, Demon Lord of Sin, towering and grinning with obsession.
"This will be the battle of the century," Azmodan declared. "You, the 10th Sentinel. Only one of us will survive."
Michael lowered his hood, his hair flowing freely. His voice was steady.
"Interesting. I appreciate you accepting my request. You allowed your demons to invade Vastyrion so that you and I could fight here, without interference."
He had done this to protect Vastyrion. Had Azmodan joined the invasion, one swing of his sword would have erased the infinite realm entirely.
They faced each other as rain fell and thunder echoed.
A battle beyond comprehension awaited.
The 10th Sentinel versus the Lord of Sin.
A clash that would fracture eternity itself.