Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Adam, Garduck, and his demonic division charged at the walls, their fierce roars echoing their thunderous stomps. Their momentum unstoppable, they knocked the arrows targeting them off course and shattered the burning wood like a dark spear.

Through the opening, ash and dust, they glared at the human soldiers shivering before their appearances.

For this realm's native demons were the epitome of corruption—an evil they had to obliterate before it spread like a contagious disease that would contaminate them all.

But when faced with the challenge, they gulped at their reputation and felt its invisible weight press on their tetanised limbs.

However, their pupils constricted at the demon leader's proud figure. Instead of seeing him behead their companions like the infernal beast he was, he walked through the opening slowly.

The smoke and shadows of war danced on his facial features, a terrifying yet charismatic veil that forced their hearts into a beating frenzy.

Then, his voice, one carrying an undeniable undertone of care under its commanding nature, reverberated against the chaos.

"Drop your weapons and take refuge in any house. Don't force me to taint the ground red with your blood and regrets!"

Despite his surprising demand, their lord's voice, contrasting the charming attractiveness of the demon's, pierced their confusion.

"We walk the path of righteousness! Don't trust evil incarnate and repel them!"

Still, a few swords and spears clanged on the ground as some soldiers escaped.

As for the others? Their knuckles whitened under their gauntlets and their hearts drummed in their chest.

"The lord is correct! Hold the line until our own monster returns!"

"We won't let evil spread through our land. Even if we fall, Achilles will avenge us!"

"He'll behead them like he did for the pirates in the north. Comrades! Fight until the end!"

The terror that had numbed their muscles shattered, the brilliant light of justice replacing it. They slammed their weapons against their round shields, the noise an improvised drumming to give them courage.

Meanwhile, Adam hissed through his pursed lips—his neck veins pulsing in his tensing muscles.

Unfortunately, the time for convincing and mercy was long gone. The clock ticked with each passing second, and he had done more than enough to talk them out of this folly. And now, they would bear the consequences of their choices.

His eyes narrowed into fiery slits as fresh blood plopped from his tight hold on his swords. He stepped forward, his armor reflecting the crackling flames on its dark surface for a second before he blurred into action.

Garduck and the other followed behind. Their lips rose into eager smiles, contrasting with their lord's conflicted expression.

Like a demonic tide, they crashed on the soldiers. Their blades whistled and drew scarlet flashes through the air before digging into the humans' armors. As flimsy as paper to them, they groaned and caved under their bulging arms.

Leading them, Adam's short swords cut through a misguided sheep's neck.

Despite the man's trembling pupils and the gurgles escaping his blood-filled throat, he offered him a silent prayer and moved to his next target.

Covered in blood, the ground painted his dark boots scarlet as chaotic slosh filled his ears. But even if his heart throbbed with each body plopping at his feet, he couldn't abandon his troops to blitz the opposing lord. After all, what would he look like if he broke his own rules?

Meanwhile, the King of Heroes rushed out of the toxic smoke rising from his wall's burning section with his soldiers.

Bending and coughing, he inhaled a sharp breath of fresh air to clean his lungs before he scanned his besieged town.

Dread's icy finger gripped his heart as he saw the disaster striking him from every direction. In the north, a bulky demon struck his wall down and stepped inside. On the east, a fiery one roared against the sky. The furious flames he unleashed made him stagger in dread as he smelled the distant stench of charred flesh and melting metal.

His eyes trailed west, hoping to see a different situation. Yet, he bit his lips in horror as he watched a woman—more gorgeous than anyone he had ever seen—hurl fiery snacks at his soldiers.

Upon impact, a pillar of green flames rose three meters high. Worse, that demoness didn't seem to slow down.

Each of her spells created a cacophony of crackling and agonising wails that jolted his body into a shaking frenzy. Even the clear sky seemed to have abandoned his territory, with dark clouds covering the bright sun under layers of floating ash.

Simultaneously, his trusted military advisor knelt before him. His head lowered to hide the despair crooking his lips, his voice wavered amidst the deafening mayhem.

"The demons surround us, my lord. They left around fifty outside the wall to seal our escape routes... W-We have no way out."

Without answering, the King of Heroes turned south. Eyes sparkling, he searched for the man who would turn despair into victory, for the legend who could crush armies single-handedly: the most skilled warrior of Greek mythology.

He clenched his fists, a radiant hope chasing the dread consuming him. Even if Adam's army butchered his soldiers by the second, a few minutes had passed, more than enough for Achilles to behead the white-haired fool who parried his first strike.

Against his wishful expectations, his eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he witnessed a battle of mythical proportions.

The ground rumbled dozens of kilometers south under the strikes of two legendary beings. Their spears whistled through the air, their strength and speed even. Worse, Achilles' adversary glowed brighter than the sun.

His teeth chattered as he bit his nail, a crushing feeling pressing on his guts.

"How is it possible? How can someone survive Achilles' swiftness and technique for over a few seconds?" He bit on his knuckles, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth. "Is he playing with him? But we have no time for that! Everyone is dying, and I'll soon follow!"

His breath, a ragged display of powerlessness, escaped his lips as he turned to his archers. He points at Adam, his commanding voice reduced to a hopeless whimper.

"Shoot them until Achilles returns. He can't let us die, not with the condition attached to his summoning. So..." His voice trailed off for a split second. "Don't despair and fight back with everything you have."

As his archers and mages rained spells and arrows on Adam's back, he turned to watch his champion's battle. Yet, his heart drummed in his ears, his last command sounding like a joke.

With his mythical figure's temper, his loyalty to the territory bordered the absolute zero. Even the condition wouldn't help his army survive. After all, the only person Achilles had to keep alive was him. As for the thousands of soldiers he had summoned? They didn't enter his line of consideration at all.

A shudder rocked his shoulders, and his head lowered as the clangour of Achilles' shield parrying the golden spear reverberated through the air.

"He wouldn't care even if everything I built turned into smoldering ruins." A warm tear rolled down his cheek. "Was I too confident? Should I have negotiated for peace until I grasped everything Adam had?"

His voice lowered, turning into a murmur mixing regret and determination.

"But I'll be the one surviving in the end."