Shadow Slave

Effie had been drained of essence, and now, she received a blow from a Supreme. Although Azarax had not meant to kill her, she was still dazed.

Even without her Aspect, Effie was quite hardy — more so than most Saints... unless they were of a Divine Lineage, naturally. However, getting smacked by the King of Kings was not something she could escape unscathed in her powerless state. Her eardrum had ruptured, and she was pretty sure that her skull had cracked.

Lying in the mud and tasting blood on her tongue, some flowing down her face as well, Effie watched flames dance above the wall of the city.

It was a pretty sight.

There were three parts to their plan of conquering the Nightmare. The first one was right in front of her: the most elite warriors of the Steel Horde being burned alive in an inescapable trap. She had sacrificed the city to kill them. All of the city except for the Stone Castle, at least, which now sheltered the remaining population — so their distant screams were like music to her ears.

However, this trap of hers was not good enough in and of itself.

The Dread Warriors would not be able to open the gate, and all ways to ascend the wall from the city had either been destroyed or walled off, with traps waiting for those who did scale it. So, those of them who survived the initial detonation had only one way left to go — toward the last remaining safe area, the castle.

It was Nightwalker’s job to defend it. Kai, Morgan, and Seishan, meanwhile, were meant to hunt down the Dread Generals in the immolating inferno, making sure that these powerful Transcendent champions perished in the flame.

But there was no guarantee that they would succeed. The Steel Horde had already sustained calamitous losses, but how many more elites Azarax would lose depended on how soon he intervened personally.

Even with his power and speed, he would not be able to save all of his warriors... but he could save some.

And indeed, as Effie turned her head, she saw Azarax preparing to rush toward the burning city.

And that was where the second part of the plan came into play.

As Azarax took a step forward, there was the sound of hooves, and the soldiers crowding behind him, watching the distant blaze with stunned and frightened expressions, parted like a sea. A horse with foam on its bloodied lips galloped through their mass, and an exhausted rider jumped off its back, landing into the mud near Azarax and Effie.

He was in such a hurry that drops of mud splattered on the King of Kings, which would usually get the messenger killed. At the moment, however, Azarax did not seem in the mood to pay it any attention.

”M—my... my lord!”

The messenger’s voice trembled, and his eyes were full of fear.

Azarax scowled.

“What is it?”

The man, still kneeling on the ground, drew a hoarse breath and then spoke in a tone of urgency:

”The... the supply caravan, my lord! It was attacked! So many are dead... the wraith took them!”

The King of Kings’ expression changed, and he threw a furious look at Effie.

‘Here it comes.’

She prepared herself, but when his kick arrived, sending her flying like a rag doll, it still hurt like hell. As Effie rolled on the ground, failing to suppress a suffocated groan, she heard Azarax hissing a curse.

Jet was responsible for the second part of the plan. Several days ago, she had secretly left the city and journeyed behind the enemy lines, making her way to the road that the caravans supplying the Steel Horde with equipment and provisions traveled. These caravans arrived daily, with an especially large one coming once a month. These caravans were heavily protected, and the monthly one was especially so. In fact, it was no different from a legion in and of itself, defended by countless Awakened soldiers, Ascended officers, and Transcendent commanders.

Today was the day it was supposed to arrive — and it was not a coincidence that Effie had chosen the same day to act, naturally. The immense size of the Steel Horde was its main advantage, but it was also its weakness. It consumed an unfathomable amount of food and demanded a constant influx of weapons, garments, medicine, and other equipment.

Usually, a part of that burden would be alleviated by scavenging and plundering the conquered lands. However, ever since the Steel Horde had gotten stranded under the walls of the Mason’s city, there were no new conquered lands — only the surrounding areas, which had long turned into a desolate wasteland. So, the great army of the King of Kings relied heavily on the supply caravans. Which was why Jet had attacked it at the same time as Effie surrendered herself, facing all its defenders alone.

Her task was not to eradicate the entire guard legion — it was to destroy the supplies. Without them, the Steel Horde would learn what starvation meant, as well... they would feel the same hunger that the people of the besieged city felt. Even if the next caravan could alleviate their hunger somewhat, the supply situation was already unstable because of the unrest in the neglected empire.

These provisions had not appeared out of thin air, either. They were the result of a heavy war tax that the farmers and artisans of the empire paid, often while not having enough to eat themselves. These people had just surrendered their grain and cattle to send off the great caravan... so what would happen if the authorities demanded the same amount of tax to be paid again only weeks later?

Nobody knew.

So, Azarax had a choice now.

A choice Effie had graciously given him.

He could rush toward the city and save as many of his Dread Warriors as he could, or rush toward where the supply caravan had been ambushed and save as many provisions as possible.

Spitting a mouthful of blood, Effie looked up at Azarax from the ground.

The King of Kings... looked blurry.

She was really not feeling well.

Still, she thought she saw his hesitation. Azarax treasured the Dread Warriors, and especially the Dread Generals — they were the greatest trophies of his conquest, after all, the prideful warriors who had once defied him, but who were now his obedient thralls.

However, he also understood that the Dread Warriors were merely one legion of his vast army. And without the supplies... his grasp on the entire Steel Horde might weaken. After all, what was the worth of a warlord who could not even feed his warriors? Azarax could not allow his soldiers to begin asking themselves that question — he refused to, rather.

And so, gritting his teeth, he turned his back to the burning city and disappeared, rushing in the direction of the ambushed caravan. Effie was finally able to draw air into her damaged lungs, drawing a hoarse breath.

‘Good... that’s for the best. It’s up to you now, Kai...’