Chapter 505 An Encounter on the Road

“That the demons have found a method beyond curse transfer to overcome the Forbidden Zone.”

At these words, many fell deep in thought.

If that were true, it would perfectly explain how an entire demon legion had landed—led by a Demon Lord-Class demon, no less!

“If that’s the case, the situation is dire for us indeed……”

Laki said gravely.

“The Heroes have not yet reached their full strength. We currently lack the power to stand against a Demon Lord-Class being.”

“Even if we could join forces to defeat that one, what if the Demon Lord himself can leave the Demon Continent early as well?”

“Truly, it’s catastrophic……”

“This is the worst possible outcome.”

Unease spread rapidly through the council chamber.

Irus glanced subtly toward Hulim Heyerar.

The girl had not spoken a word, her expression unchanged from start to finish.

“……”

“Ah, right—you mentioned two explanations earlier, Irus. What’s the second?” Laki asked.

“Hmm……”

Irus withdrew her gaze and spoke after a brief pause.

“The second is the even worse scenario.”

“……”

The chamber fell utterly silent.

After a long, heavy moment:

“……Wha—???”

Cries of shock and confusion erupted from every side.

No better-case scenario?

Only bad news and even worse news?!

“Irus! You can’t be serious!?”

Under Laki’s disbelieving stare, Irus shook her head gently.

“I would never joke at a time like this.”

“Because the second possibility is that the Demon Lord’s army has not mastered any method beyond curse transfer at all.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The meaning is simple—”

Irus’s lips moved softly, uttering words that made nearly everyone in the room draw a sharp, cold breath.

“The Demon Lord’s army has forcibly mustered this vanguard legion purely through overwhelming numbers.”

Not a single sound could be heard in the council chamber.

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Nearly everyone stood frozen like stone statues.

What did she mean……

forcibly mustered through sheer numbers?

“Hey…… Irus, you can’t—”

“I am completely serious.”

Irus cut her off preemptively.

Her expression was stern and solemn, devoid of her usual playful air.

Her emerald green eyes swept slowly over every person present.

“If the second scenario is true……”

“Then, regrettably, we face the most terrifying, most brutal Demon Lord invasion in recorded history. Their high-tier combat power—”

“far outnumbers our own.”

……

Outside the city walls of Lidoyar Kingdom,

the Dwarven Legion was assembling.

As its commander, Aralond stood atop the wall, watching over the formation.

“I had hoped we would have more time……”

He lifted his head, gazing at the gray, overcast sky.

“I never thought it would come so soon.”

The eruption of Red Mist Volcano had been suppressed,

but its initial burst had still wrought massive damage. Earthquakes had shattered countless towns.

Toxic gases mixed in volcanic ash had forced residents of nearby regions to abandon their homes temporarily; they could not return until the ash and fumes cleared.

Yet these were not the gravest consequences.

Monster legions left behind by Groth’s remnants, alongside native beasts across the land, had been driven into a frenzy by the volcanic eruption.

They posed an existential threat to the people of the Northern Wastes.

The Dwarven Legion was the only force capable of quelling this danger.

Yet before the North could fully recover, they were forced to march away……

Tap, tap.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

“No need to wear such a look, Aralond.”

“Master?” Aralond turned to see Fulmir approaching.

The elder dwarf stepped beside him, eyes fixed on the assembling army ahead.

“The situation is far better than we anticipated.”

“Though the volcanic ash will lengthen this winter, it is only temporary.”

“Trust in the resilience of the Northern people. They will manage without us. The front lines, however—that is where countless lives hang in the balance.”

“……”

“You are right.”

“My true battlefield is not here.”

“Good. That is the spirit. You have always been quick to accept reality, that hasn’t changed.”

“Your words do little to lift my mood.”

Aralond touched the Divine Shield in his grasp and sighed.

“It is precisely because I understand the reality that I fear. Can we truly win……?”

Demon Lord-Class demon.

Having witnessed the peak power of a Hero in ages past, Aralond knew all too well the terror of a being on that level.

And he knew, too, the vast gulf between that power and his own.

“We will only know once we fight. The fact that the front has stabilized means the situation is not as hopeless as we fear. Besides……”

“Whoever it was, we know the gods have not turned a blind eye. Let us trust that They will watch over us and grant us Their protection.”

“That is not like the level-headed you. But……”

“You speak the truth.”

Aralond bowed his head devoutly, hands clasped together.

“May the gods watch over us——”

……

7th of September, 792 New Divine Calendar.

The Dwarven Legion, stationed in the Lidoyar Kingdom to provide relief after the Red Mist Volcano eruption, received urgent frontline dispatches.

They halted relief efforts, completed full assembly,

and marched south across the border into the Pasara Empire, then turned east within imperial territory.

They hurried at forced march toward the Witch Hills front line.

At the same time,

the advance party encountered an unusual group on the road……

Several hundred figures clad in robes of varying hues.

Wide brims hid half their faces, concealing their features.

Yet despite their far smaller numbers compared to a regular army,

the oppressive aura they radiated was beyond anything ordinary soldiers could emit.

For these were mages from the White Tower.

Every last one of the hundreds—minimum B-Rank strength……

Crack! Pop!

Around a campfire,

a small group sat in a circle.

“……I never expected to run into you here.”

“Esmelon. I had assumed your group would have arrived long ago.”

Laki spoke.

Beside her were the others who had departed the Lidoyar Kingdom alongside Hulim Heyerar—and two new faces: one old, one young.

The elder had long white hair and a full beard, dressed in a simple, unadorned white robe.

The girl had short blue hair and matching blue eyes. She had not spoken a word since arriving; indeed, her expression had not shifted once.

“I intended to train the Hero to battlefield readiness before moving out. I did not foresee this turn of events.”

The white-haired elder—Esmelon van Lorin, the current Sage—replied.

“The Hero? This one beside you?”

All eyes turned to the blue-haired girl at once.

Yet even under so many stares, her face remained utterly blank.

“Ika—the current Book Hero.”

Esmelon van Lorin answered simply on her behalf.