The morning skirmish that began with the dawn reached a stalemate around noon. With the sound of horn trumpets, the demon forces halted their advance and looked down upon them from the ridge.
They were still disgustingly numerous. From beneath the forest shadows, their gazes felt piercing.
Despite feeling the full weight of their stares, the soldiers barely managed to stand on trembling legs, gasping for breath. Humans weren't designed for combat. The stress of battle and fear of death rapidly drained one's stamina.
They were merely forgetting their fatigue in a life-or-death situation. The combat endurance of ordinary people who hadn't reached the Domain of the Transcendent wasn't very long.
"What's the damage report?"
"We lost about 20% of our front line during the retreat to the second position. Other casualties are less than expected."
"I'd imagine so. They've only been throwing goblins at us so far."
Most demon species are nocturnal. More precisely, they're not suited for bright surface environments.
The Demon Realm is dark and gloomy year-round. The sky there remains covered with thick, ashen clouds even at midday.
Moreover, almost all demons dwell in the dense forests of the Demon Realm. For creatures accustomed to forest shade, the bright climate of the United Kingdom was unsuitable.
In more mythical terms, it was because the sun is humanity's symbol. It represents the Lord, human faith, and the nemesis of demonic creatures.
So as evening approached and night returned, the demons' time would come. The daytime engagements could be considered little more than light harassment.
Elizabeta pressed her brow, desperately organizing her thoughts.
'I can't let the soldiers rest.'
Even though they needed to show vulnerability, they couldn't completely let their guard down. If the soldiers relaxed and another wave of attacks like those from the morning came, they wouldn't have enough stamina to last until nightfall.
The remaining soldiers numbered just over 4,000. Meanwhile, the enemy forces were countless. Thirty thousand? Perhaps forty thousand? Well, there might be even more troops waiting in the forest beyond the hills.
A basin without walls, a last stand with their backs to the river. Anyone could see it was a perfect setup for annihilation.
'The only hope is that the Seven-Headed Dragon isn't directly engaging in battle.'
He fears the "hidden strength" of the 2nd Corps. Our soldiers are surviving solely on the phantom fear of that strength—the same strength believed to have killed the Seven-Headed Dragon.
If the illusion breaks, if they realize that only a handful of humans remain, all of Elizabeta's worries and concerns would end instantly. Certain death would come.
Just two days, they only needed to hold out for two days. If they could last that long... yes, there was still a way to gather the troops and escape.
The dwarven underground tunnels lay beneath their feet.
'If I reveal this fact now, deserters will definitely appear...'
What kept her soldiers on the front line now wasn't her charisma. A mortal's presence could never surpass that of the Seven-Headed Dragon.
Only two reasons made them fight with their lives on the line.
First, they had nowhere to run. The enemy took no prisoners—if they survived defeat, they would become the demons' next meal.
Second, with all demon forces gathered here, the invasion of their homeland must have stopped.
Those two hopes made the soldiers accept this suicidal last stand. If she revealed the existence of the underground tunnels now, deserters would certainly appear in droves. Because they would see a chance to survive.
That couldn't happen. She had to deceive even her own troops. At this realization, Elizabeta felt a loneliness so profound it made her stomach churn.
She could trust no one, failure meant certain death, the chances of escaping safely were slim, and even if they used the underground tunnels, most of the men from Krasilov who followed her to battle would die during the retreat.
All of this happened by her command. She was ordering them to die while secretly securing a means for her own survival...
'Vanka.'
Elizabeta whispered, stroking her belly.
'If we both survive to meet again, I'll need to comfort you for a very, very long time.'
She had reasons to live. She had someone she loved, and life created by that loved one. This was a selfish desire that a ruler shouldn't have, but it was a hope she couldn't abandon.
"We hold for one more day and half. No matter what happens."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Visit the soldiers. After this time passes, they won't even have time to eat. Distribute our reserves generously and order the soldiers to rest in shifts."
Elizabeta's orders quickly spread throughout the camp. The soldiers received ample rations for the first time in a while and devoured meat porridge thickened with flour with trembling hands.
Three hours later, the demon army began advancing again. After thirteen hours of continuous battle, half the troops collapsed, no longer able to fight.
"Smoke ahead!!"
Ivan had already spotted the black plumes of smoke wavering on the horizon before the soldiers raised the alarm. Exactly where and when he had expected.
Relief spread quickly. At least they hadn't gotten the location wrong.
"How are the soldiers holding up?"
"Not well."
The Grand Duke replied with a smile. His gaunt cheeks were caked with unwiped fatigue. They had fought fierce battles at the Great Gate and then marched for days with barely any rest to reach this point.
Under normal circumstances, more than half would have deserted or fallen behind during such a forced march. Their only supplies were tough demon meat, and water was collected from rivers encountered along the way.
This could hardly be called an army. "Fleeing remnants" would be more appropriate, considering their equipment and physical condition.
Yet their eyes still burned red with determination. They had the mindset of those embarking on a holy war, driven solely by revenge.
"But it couldn't get much worse," the Grand Duke concluded with a joke. Ivan nodded heavily and resumed leading the way.
The main force's strategy was simple: strike the enemy's rear, crush everything in their path, and create an escape route for the isolated Elizabeta.
And Ivan's plan was even simpler.
Decapitation.
This multi-species army was united solely by the Seven-Headed Dragon's authority—a collection of warbands that would never normally come together. And there was only one Seven-Headed Dragon in this land. The conclusion was obvious.
Kill him, and this battle ends.
Nekinnon hissed as he glared at the battle line. With nowhere left to retreat, Elizabeta had abandoned command and was swinging her sword at the front lines, driving back the demons.
Behind the last defensive position, the remaining handful of troops stood shoulder to shoulder, gritting their teeth as they fired guns, parried swords, and thrust spears.
They were already so exhausted that their very movement seemed miraculous. Nevertheless, the humans clenched their teeth and struggled to maintain the line.
And all of this was achieved thanks to Nekinnon's "mercy." Thirty-seven hours. A day and a half since the first engagement with the humans.
During that time, he had continuously pushed forward expendable troops. As great as the demons' losses were, human losses were no less significant. Now it seemed the humans no longer had any chance of victory, even without his direct intervention.
Only then did Nekinnon's thoughts pause.
[I see.]
A smile appeared on Nekinnon's face.
[I see. There was never anything from the beginning. Ha, haha, hahahaha!!]
His laughter echoed through the forest. He rose to his full height and looked down at the battlefield. Beyond the hillside covered with countless corpses, he could see Elizabeta looking back at him.
A hero, or something equivalent.
At least a final weapon capable of slaying the Seven-Headed Dragon.
He had been reluctant to approach the humans directly because their deployment in such difficult terrain was suspiciously deliberate, and they had retreated while showing vulnerabilities in an equally suspicious manner.
He had personally come here solely because the human queen herself had taken the field. It was a temptation he simply couldn't ignore.
But if it was obviously a trap, he had tens of thousands of demon troops here to spring it for him.
Yet now, in this situation where their forces were too depleted to affect the battle, it was impossible to keep hiding such a weapon. Any rational commander would have used such means hours ago if they existed.
The implication was clear. Such a "final weapon" had never existed in the first place.
They had merely pretended it existed, buying time while sacrificing their lives.
[You humans are truly... always new and amusing whenever I see you. Did you believe so much in your kind behind you? Did you expect your kin to avenge you after you die here?]
"..."
Elizabeta's face hardened. Seeing her expression, Nekinnon cackled.
[A god does not speak falsehoods. For power dwells in divine words. I promise you, your death will be long and painful. You will be granted death only after witnessing the destruction of your kind and everything you cherish.]
Nekinnon walked forward, laughing. The forest trembled and the earth groaned. A god approached.
No hope remained in the eyes of the humans who had resisted until the end. Their struggles now resembled spinal reflexes—mechanical resistance continuing regardless of will.
Among them, those who hadn't lost their will quietly swallowed dry saliva.