The Outbreak Of War- Demonic Army VS Hero Army.

“The number of Heroes who have made landfall across the western outer border zone of the Demon World scales around approximately three hundred. Launch an immediate intercept deployment.”

I had compiled the Seven Supreme Commanders inside the audience chamber ahead of schedule. Among our elite cabinet, the units commanding the absolute highest frontline combat parameters were strictly restricted to Juda, Zegart, and Regal.

I ran a quick visual sweep to audit their coordinates.

“Zegart, execute the dispatch vector.”

“My absolute first assignment under the reign of our new sovereign, is it? My profile accepts the command with immense gratification,” the golden lion-kin boomed, his massive jaws snapping wide to expose a ferocious grin. “Utilizing the absolute, unmitigated power of my Fourth Legion, I shall guaranteed harvest the heads of those human vermin and lay the payload straight before your high throne, milord.”

“ …Your high-morale terminology brings immense gratification to my system,“ I responded.

Yet, even as the words cleared my vocal array, the facial parameters beneath the cover of my mask had likely frozen into a rigid block of tension.

Evaluating the baseline programming of the order I was actively broadcasting down the line right now, it functioned as a direct, explicit mandate to systematically liquidate an entire human military force. Three full months of chronological runtime had ticked past since my vessel had undergone its succession loop to become the Demon King. Compared to my opening phase, my internal affinity metrics tracking the welfare of the demon race had undergone an immense, permanent escalation. My internal filters had successfully hardened, reinforcing the resolve that if a human unit is flagged by the system as a hostile ‘Enemy,’ my blade must execute a summary deletion loop against their frame without exception.

Even so—deep within the hidden foundations of my heart, a dense, un-erasable fraction of my ‘Human’ taxonomy undeniably remained active.

No, to state the unvarnished data log, my emotional sensors were still operating on a frequency that was practically a flawless copy of a standard human. Which exact classification did my current ego-matrix belong to right now? Was my fundamental psychology steadily undergoing a forced rewrite to permanently transform into the ‘Demon King’ Fried? Or was my code flatly resisting the override, remaining permanently hard-coded as the ‘Hero’ Fried?

Or perhaps—

“Has a hazardous anomaly disrupted your cognitive processing loops, My King?”

Regal loosed the query, his cold, clicking voice cutting straight through my silence.

“There is absolute zero mathematical probability that your mindset is harboring a hesitation loop when forced to launch a campaign against the human vermin. For a sovereign who commands a power pool that completely outclasses any entity logged within this realm, your systems possess zero logical requirements to harbor a fear parameter regarding those low-stat humans.”

“Regal…”

“Exactly what internal equation is your mind actively weigh-checking?”

It was a sharp, piercing voice—one that looked straight into the hidden friction locked within my matrix, operating almost as an explicit reprimand. A heavy, highly unsettled atmosphere instantly saturated the airspace of the audience chamber.

Right at that exact microsecond—

“Kindly deactivate your severe security diagnostics, Supreme Commander Regal. The Lord Demon King is simply running an optimization simulation to meticulously delegate the upcoming operational labor cycles across our respective legions, is he not?”

Stella smoothly interjected, throwing a brilliant rescue line to clear my frequency.

“My office possesses absolute zero objections against Supreme Commander Zegart claiming the highly honored vanguard slot to initialize the offensive loop, yet our remaining forces highly desire that your crown reassigns a specific set of utility parameters to our own queues as well. Our units shall guaranteed manifest a high-utility return to back your sovereign vector, Fried-sama.”

Locking her posture into a deeply respectful stance, Stella executed a solemn bow. Under the mastery of her dialogue play, the toxic friction that had temporarily paralyzed the sector was smoothly, organically re-routed, shifting the room’s atmosphere back into a standard administrative forum focused on cabinet-wide labor allocation. As a baseline rule across my operations, my internal data logs lacked the necessary capacity to ever vocalize enough gratitude to match her constant support loops.

…My deepest appreciation, Stella.

“Mhm, mhm~! Just lounging around the palace on standby waiting for telemetries to clear represents an exceptionally low-utility time-sink anyway~” Feria purred, her features softening into an alluring, playful smirk.

“If my office is omitted from the active deployment queues, my own processors have absolute zero objections,” Juda muttered through a massive, heavy yawn that cut straight through her line. “My system shall simply initialize a long-term hover-rest cycle to optimize my afternoon nap metrics.”

“My own diagnostics calculate that instead of a standard localized nap, Legion Commander Juda’s system permanently maintains an active sleep loop across all twelve months of the annual calendar, milord,” Tsukuyomi reported in a completely flat, mechanical tone.

“Regal and Juda: your respective legions shall immediately mobilize to establish an ironclad defensive security perimeter across our inner borders. We must factor in a high-probability risk where the Hero Army attempts to launch a multi-layered, synchronized blitz across separate unmapped quadrants simultaneously.”

Allowing a soft, tired smile to crack across my face as I peer-checked the two eccentric mages, I locked down the directives.

“Orders fully logged.”

“Understood, milord. The structural integrity of our sovereign barrier has sustained critical degradation, after all. A synchronized, multi-directional offensive play is a highly validated strategy for their AI to deploy.” Regal and Juda nodded in turn, verifying the telemetry.

“Olivier’s military wings shall immediately execute a split-deployment loop: one half of your roster shall fast-track navigation to provide high-caliber restoration support for Zegart’s frontline, while the remaining fifty percent shall enter a permanent state of high-alert standby inside the capital.”

“Y-Yes, milord! My system shall push its operational parameters to their absolute maximum limit to optimize our first official campaignっ!” Olivier stammered, her anxiety metrics instantly spiking as her pointed fox ears and fluffy tails began cutely bobbing back and forth in a frantic, hyper-active state.

“Furthermore, our risk analytics indicate a non-zero probability that the Hero Army attempts to launch a wide-area, high-intensity mental affliction attack leveraging their holy-attribute multipliers. Feria’s legion shall establish an absolute counter-disruption layer to insulate our assets against that specific hazard. Stella and Tsukuyomi: your profiles shall remain permanently anchored right beside my throne to manage the central command matrix.”

Feria, Stella, and Tsukuyomi checked off the commands, their alignment icons verifying complete.

“ —The directives are finalized. Ensure that every single unit compiled within this chamber—and immediately alongside them, every single soldier and civilian asset cataloged across our realm—bypasses an end-of-service failure threshold, and systematically purge the Hero Army from our borders!“

Venting the definitive sovereign command, I officially archived the strategy summit.

The Western Frontier – The Outer Margins of the Demon World

The long-awaited Demon World Annihilation Campaign had officially initialized its active runtime.

The human Hero, Elio Quell, registered a massive, surging escalation across his baseline heart rate. While his innate spec variables didn’t fully clear the absolute prodigy tier commanded by his older sister, Fiore, his vessel still possessed an exceptionally elite talent matrix; despite his young age of fifteen, his character profile had already successfully completed the integration parameters to be chosen by the fourth-tier Miracle-class armament, Glacyte.

“You two siblings represent the absolute, crowning glory of our entire family crest,” his father, Duke Quell, would loudly vocalize across their surface exchanges every single time a milestone was checked off. Elio highly desired to continuously optimize his performance metrics to exceed those paternal expectations. He would force his parameters to grow exponentially stronger. He would harvest a spectacular payload of military achievements. Ultimately, he would scale his attributes until his profile successfully transcended his sister’s tier, broadcasting the unvarnished reputation of the Quell lineage across the entire surface world—

Fueled entirely by the raw, unmitigated ambition hard-coded into a young warrior, Elio had pushed his training modules into absolute overdrive. Consequently, his screening metrics had successfully cleared the threshold to select his profile as an elite member of the honored opening vanguard, allowing his boots to finally anchor onto the soil of the Demon World.

This subterranean realm, completely devoid of a natural solar body, was eternally trapped within a state of drifting, dim twilight. The atmospheric moisture fields were exceptionally thick and stagnant compared to the surface human realms, wrapping around his skin with a heavy, suffocating sensory profile.

The outer frontier zones—

A desolate, red-brown wasteland that expanded endlessly across the horizon, a literal dead zone.

At that precise dynamic fraction of a second, an infinite network of dark shapes materialized across the forward grid. In stark contrast to the perfectly linear, synchronized march lines deployed by the Hero Army, this incoming force advanced with an comprehensively disorganized, their completely fractured and chaotic. Analyzing their layout through a tactical filter, their presence mirrored a boisterous guild of rogue outlaws rather than a disciplined military legion. Every single unit logged within the pack was a beast-kin sub-type demon.

“My nomenclature is registered under the data string of Giluua, and my profile commands the absolute tactical jurisdiction over the Second Division of the Demon World’s Fourth Legion! Surface human vermin, lock your tracking sensors onto these coordinates and realize that this wasteland represents the absolute end-of-service threshold for your lives!”

Anchoring the absolute front of their vanguard, a rhinoceros-kin beast demon unleashed a deafening, thunderous roar.

“Execute immediate scatter deployment! Close-quarters vanguard types, run a synchronized multi-layered combo array! Long-range artillery units, lock down your support fire parameters!” the human platoon leader roared, broadcasting his commands across the squad network.

“Subpar utility arrays!”

The demon who had logged his identity as Giluua masterfully swung a colossal iron flail, treating the concentrated barrage of spells loosed by the Heroes as if it were non-serving air. Absorbing an infinite network of high-caliber direct hits carved into his armoring by their Miracle armaments, his motor functions suffered absolute zero slowdown ticks as he ruthlessly pressed his forward march.

“Blown to absolute pieces!”

“Gah…っ!”

“Ugh…っ!”

The crushing kinetic payload of the launched iron flail systematically kicked the Heroes across the terrain, shattering their lines. While their formation vectors threatened to hit absolute collapse, a selection of back-line Heroes pre-outfitted with long-range artillery-type Miracle armaments loosed a dense wave of counter-fire, managing to force a minor backward shift across Giluua’s coordinates by bare inches.

Immediately following the reset, the battlefield locked into a grueling, frame-by-frame stalemate—a horizontal clash of equal indices. No, sifting through the real-time data feeds, Giluua commanded a slight, terrifying edge. Operating as a solitary, single combat asset, he was horizontally matching the consolidated output of several dozen Heroes at a clean fifty-fifty ratio.

“His baseline durability and damage specs are comprehensively elite…っ!” Elio muttered, running a real-time audit on the combat lines as his throat cutely gulped.

Remaining locked inside a back-line standby queue as mandated by his superior commands was causing a massive spike in his internal frustration parameters. While the absolute rank of his Miracle-class armament was strictly limited to the fourth tier—the Dominion Grade—which sat a full tier below the weapons wielded by the vanguard lines currently engaging the enemy, Elio’s profile came pre-outfitted with That Special Anomaly.

“What’s the matter, human trash?! If your consolidated power pool plateaus at this subpar threshold, our lines lack any logical requirements to ever waste the operational runtime of the Beast Emperor or the Lord Demon King! My single profile is more than sufficient to systematically delete your entire squad!”

Under the unmitigated, crushing onslaught of Giluua’s iron flail, the Heroes’ defensive formations were steadily transitioning into a state of structural failure. The facial parameters of the warriors were transparently venting waves of deep panic, closely followed by absolute, unmitigated dread.

“ —It’s time to trigger that process, then.“

Elio locked down his definitive resolution. If his system single-mindedly adhered to the back-line standby command, the entire platoon stood a hundred percent probability of sustaining a fatal, unrecoverable wipe. Within these immediate coordinates, his vessel was the absolute solitary asset capable of forcefully reversing.

This calculation was zero percent a delusion of overconfidence; it was a validated, rational certainty. It was zero percent a desperate, reckless gamble; it was an ironclad, absolute readiness.

“That rhino demon shall be systematically dismantled by my own blade! Every single unit, execute an immediate backward shift to clear my perimeter!”

Screaming the command across the squad network, Elio drove his legs forward to leap past the frontline threshold.

“っ…?! H-Hey! Halt your vector, you idiot—”

“Did your low-stat brain calculate that you can challenge that monster in a single combat loop?! Pull back immediately—”

Offering a confident, bright smile to reassure the panicking Heroes flanking his coordinates, he channeled his focus to call upon the steel gripped in his right palm.

“Miracle Armament: Glacyte — Active Stage: Chaos Form!”

He blasted the verbal key straight into the shaft of his spear.

Thump-thump! An intense, heavy biological pulse vibrated through the metal of the handle, reaching his hands.

“Mgh… ooooooooooooooooooh…っ!!”

Simultaneously, a dense, surging aura of pitch-black energy completely blanketed the parameters of Glacyte.

“ —Oh? Shifting variables, I see?“ Giluua noted, his tracking sensors flagging the transition as he pivoted his neck to scan Elio’s coordinates, his curiosity triggered.

“RAOOOOOOOOOOOOOH…っ!!”

Unleashing an unmitigated roar alongside the energy surge, the structural layout of Glacyte successfully completed its evolution, morphing into a spectacular, pitch-black dread spear. The primary tip segment underwent a massive structural expansion, its apex continuously spitting a violent spray of crimson sparks into the twilight.

Chaos Form.

An advanced, hidden evolutionary tier mapped onto the Miracle-class armaments, a milestone his profile had masterfully unlocked completely by accident during the grueling training modules engineered to prepare for this campaign.

“W-What exact classification of anomaly is that weapon…?!”

The tracking arrays of the surrounding Heroes completely bypassed standard confusion, their faces freezing into absolute, blank bewilderment.

“Ehe-he… my profile was running non-stop personal training loops when my settings suddenly checked off the authorization parameters completely out of nowhere… so I cleared the sequence,” Elio chuckled, cutely scratching his head in pure embarrassment.

To state the unvarnished chronological reality, his system had successfully stabilized the activation loops a mere handful of days ago. Because the initialization process remained highly volatile and unstable, he had tightly enforced a strict data lock on the file, letting zero entities know about the asset. Witnessing the code execute flawlessly on a live battlefield filled his processors with a massive wave of immediate relief.

“This configuration commands an absolute damage output multiplier that effortlessly outclasses standard Miracle armaments by several full factors. Leave the processing of this quadrant entirely to my blade.”

“ …A-Alright. We shall delegate the processing to your vanguard,“ the platoon leader validated, his vocal array registering a massive spike in morale as he anchored his hopes onto the boy.

Elio gave a heavy, confident nod to lock down the alignment.

“Launching my advance!”

“I shall grind your tiny frame to absolute dust!”

Giluua braced his massive chassis to welcome Elio’s high-velocity charge. However, sifting through the hyper-accelerated tracking resolution currently running inside Elio’s brain, the descending trajectory of the rhino demon’s claws appeared to be locked inside a complete slowdown frame, completely motionless.

The pitch-black evolutionary matrix of the Chaos Form didn’t strictly inject a massive multiplier to maximize absolute damage output metrics; it systematically up-scaled the physical capabilities and motor stats of the wielder by several full factors simultaneously.

“Far too slow, far too slow.”

Predatorily curling the corners of his mouth into a sharp smirk, Elio executed a single, instantaneous flash with Glacyte.

“Gah…?!”

And just like that, the combat loop reached its definitive conclusion.

Venting a colossal spray of fresh biological fluid, Giluua’s physical chassis was cleanly halved by the downward vector of the black spear. Masterfully flipping the weapon to flick the residual blood cinders off the tip with a crisp snap, Elio proudly hoisted his fist toward his companions to log an absolute clear.

It was a beautifully clean, flawless, absolute victory.

“ —Hmm. It appears the human vermin possess a minor, non-zero volume of backbone within their ranks after all.“

An abrupt, thunderous voice hijacked the airspace. Simultaneously, the chaotic lines of the demonic legion split perfectly down the center, clearing a wide path.

“What is that presence…?!”

Navigating the cleared corridor with absolute, unmitigated poise, a solitary demon unit stepped forward into the zone. He was a magnificent lion-kin beast-demon, his entire physical mass meticulously encased in a set of dazzling, pure gold full-body plate armor.

“Your identity registers as—”

The surrounding atmosphere instantly began to crackle and pop, as if an intense electric charge had heavily saturated the coordinate blocks. A crushing, terrifying wave of passive-pressure showered over Elio’s frame, causing his body hair to violently stand on end.

The absolute ‘Tier’ commanding this entity was transparently operating on a completely separate dimension compared to the baseline demons from moments ago.

“My nomenclature is logged as Beast Emperor (Gigantoror) Zegart. The sovereign engine who commands absolute tactical jurisdiction over this Fourth Legion.”

The golden lion-kin delivered his formal introduction.

“The Beast Emperor—”

Elio’s respiratory functions instantaneously stalled as his breath caught in his throat.

One of the elite Seven Supreme Commanders celebrated as the absolute strongest vanguard-tier entities in the history of the realm. A top-tier engine anchored right beside the absolute throne of the Demon King.