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{Chapter: 240: Mission}
Dex didn't have to wait long.
As time passed, the space gate shimmered faintly within the gloom of the cave. One after another, dozens of demons emerged from the swirling portal, their grotesque silhouettes casting flickering shadows along the jagged rock walls.
Most of them remained silent, each demon settling into a separate corner or alcove of the cave without a word. Only a few exchanged brief, hushed conversations—likely old acquaintances or uneasy allies. But even those murmured interactions carried an undertone of caution.
There was no camaraderie here. No sense of unity.
While they were all gathered peacefully for the moment, it was not out of mutual respect or shared purpose. It was obligation—nothing more. Every demon present was bound by the ancient and unbreakable terms of the Abyss Contract, tied to the will of Fire Demon Lord Carto. The contract suspended their instinctive desire for violence, keeping them from tearing each other apart—at least temporarily.
Had the contract not existed, the cave would already be soaked in blood and fire.
Even now, beneath the silence, tension rippled through the space like invisible chains pulled taut. Predatory eyes locked onto one another, claws twitched, fangs glinted in the darkness. Every demon here knew that once the pact no longer applied, old grudges and instincts would flare up without hesitation.
Yet, for now, they waited.
Dex sat cross-legged on a raised slab of stone, his eyes closed as if in meditation. He didn't move, didn't speak. But when the moment arrived—an imperceptible shift in the ambient energy, like a cosmic clock ticking forward—he opened his eyes.
The time had come.
The other demons straightened slightly, their expressions sharpening. This moment had not been marked by any external cue. There was no sun or moon to gauge the hour by, no ticking clock on the cave walls. But they all felt it at the same time—an internal signal etched into their very being.
It was the biological clock of abyssal creatures.
They hadn't scheduled this gathering by the standards of any local world. After all, time flowed differently in every realm. In one plane, a week might pass, while in another only a day slips by. Worldly clocks could be warped by magic, distorted by gravitational forces, or disrupted by temporal anomalies.
But not the Abyss.
Time in the Abyss was immutable, unyielding—an eternal constant unaffected by the chaos of the multiverse. No matter how twisted or chaotic the outer planes became, the time of the Bottomless Abyss remained consistent, unchanging.
Once again, the irony was not overlooked, transforming a domain that symbolizes chaos into one of order, as there is invariably order within chaos..
For this reason, not only demons, but many beings across different worlds often relied on Abyssal time as a universal reference point. For the denizens born of the Abyss, like Dex and those around him, a portion of their soul remained forever attuned to it. They could sense the passage of Abyssal time with flawless precision—regardless of the realm they found themselves in.
It was a critical advantage. Without it, demons might venture into time-warped worlds and return centuries too late—only to find their domains reduced to dust and forgotten relics.
Now, feeling the weight of a hundred stares from across the cave, the hunched figure of an old dwarf demon rose to his feet in the center.
Despite his smaller stature compared to the hulking demons nearby, Gewa's presence was anything but weak. His fiery orange eyes scanned the cave, glinting with a subtle confidence.
He paused for a moment, measuring the crowd.
From the sense of the contract, he knew there were approximately two hundred demons scattered across a five-thousand-kilometer radius. To see more than half of them gathered here already was no small feat. It meant they had chosen to honor his summons—not for him personally, of course, but out of respect for the will of Fire Demon Lord Carto.
Still, it was a good turnout.
He was under no illusions. These demons hadn't come because they admired him. In fact, if what he was about to say failed to meet expectations, he wouldn't be surprised to find himself ignored, mocked—or worse.
Demons were not creatures bound by blind loyalty or idealism. Especially not the ones who managed to survive alone deep within enemy territory. These were the elite—pragmatic, dangerous, and fiercely independent. Many had long stopped obeying anyone but themselves.
Which meant one thing: words alone would not be enough.
He cleared his throat, his face turning solemn.
"I appreciate your attendance," Gewa began, his gravelly voice carrying easily through the chamber. "I am Gewa, field commander of the third secondary main legion under the command of Lord Carto."
He waited just long enough to ensure his introduction landed.
Then, without preamble or fluff, he launched directly into the heart of the matter. There was no point in trying to flatter demons or appeal to honor. That wasn't how they worked.
"The reason you were summoned," Gewa said, "is simple. We intend to destroy a major human city and transform the entire area into a sacrificial site—what we call a Pollution Land. From that corrupted ground, we'll construct a new landing zone for our reinforcements. A permanent, stable gateway for the next stage of the invasion."
There were no gasps or interruptions.
Just a thick, brooding silence.
Every demon present understood exactly what that meant. Polluting a city to create a demon-friendly zone was a standard invasion tactic. It required an immense amount of destruction, souls, and blight magic—but once completed, it offered a massive strategic foothold in foreign worlds.
And judging by Gewa's tone, the city they were targeting was no ordinary outpost. It was likely a fortress city—one that held importance on the mortal side of this war.
Still, none of the demons looked surprised. This was what they did. It was their nature.
One demon slowly grinned, baring his obsidian fangs.
Another let out a low, eager chuckle.
The hunger for battle was beginning to stir.
But for now, they waited to hear the details. What Gewa said next would determine whether they chose to follow—or walk away.
After all, they were not loyal soldiers.
They were demons.
And demons did not fight unless there was blood to spill—and rewards worth the risk.
A long-armed demon, gaunt and wiry like a walking skeleton, finally voiced the question lingering in the hearts of every demon present.
"So, what exactly do we get out of this?"
His voice was raspy, almost hollow, as though it came from deep within his chest cavity.
The other demons did not speak, but the subtle shifts in their posture—the stilling of tails, the flaring of nostrils, the flicker of infernal magic behind narrowed eyes—showed they were all waiting for the answer.
None of them particularly cared about the details of the mission itself. After all, what else could a gathering of demons be summoned to do? The answer was obvious: murder, destruction, pillaging, chaos. Certainly not unity, goodwill, or charity.
Their only concern was profit. As long as the reward was sufficient, they would be more than willing to set the world on fire.
Gewa, as a demon himself, had fully anticipated this. He didn't flinch under their expectant stares. Instead, he nodded calmly, his voice steady and businesslike.
"That depends entirely on what you do and how much destruction you bring about. The rewards will be based on your contribution. Soul crystals, refined flesh and blood essences, rare high-tier magical reagents, forbidden spells, enchanted relics of considerable power... everything will be recorded in a ledger. I'll provide a detailed list later. Each item you claim will be clearly marked with its value in this campaign."
The skeletal demon let out a dry chuckle and nodded in approval. Without another word, he sat down cross-legged on a slab of rock, his hunger for slaughter now tempered by greed.
Gewa lightly clapped his hands, his dark eyes sweeping over the gathered demons. "So then, that's the situation. One final formality—if anyone here has no intention of participating, you may leave now. No one will stop you."
A long silence followed.
No one moved.
Not a single demon left their seat.
Gewa gave a thin-lipped smile. "Excellent. In that case, let us finalize this properly—with a contract."
As his voice faded, dozens upon dozens of contracts materialized in midair. They floated gently in front of the demons, unrolling like ancient parchment scrolls written in abyssal runes. The air grew thick with the scent of sulfur and old blood.
Each scroll pulsed faintly with infernal power. Though they resembled fragile parchment, they were made of resilient soul-bound materials provided and created by the Great Mother herself .
There wasn't much text on them—just a few thousand words, mostly concerning confidentiality and performance clauses. No fine print. No hidden curses. No word traps.
Dex took one glance and scanned the contract from top to bottom with ease. His crimson eyes narrowed for a moment, but he soon relaxed. Everything was written in the blunt and unforgiving style demons preferred. No tricks. No clever wording.
It wasn't that Gewa was being generous. He simply knew better.
If any of the demons present had sensed deception in the contract, Gewa wouldn't live to regret it. He'd be torn to shreds before he could utter a single excuse. And since they had already gathered here, the others would make the most of the trip—ripping him apart, then divvying up his soul for sport before returning to whatever hellholes they crawled out from.
Under the terms of the Abyss Contract, which had been forged under the Will of the Abyss itself, independent demons were forbidden from attacking those directly under Lord Carto's banner unless clear hostile intent was shown first. The contract was absolute. Any violation would summon judgment—and not the kind you could walk away from.
That said, demons were nothing if not opportunistic. They recognized no king, no god, no brotherhood. Only the Will of the Abyss, a force as fickle and chaotic as they were, was treated as their true origin and Great Mother.
But even that loyalty was flexible.
If the reward was good enough, demons wouldn't hesitate to sell out the Abyss itself. And the Great Mother would rejoice. After all, betrayal and entropy were her favorite children.
Some of the more cunning demons had even made a career out of these double-dealings: surrendering to foreign powers, opening portals into the Abyss to lure in outsiders, then turning around and betraying their new "allies" to win favor with the Abyss once more. The cycle of deception, chaos, and treachery was endless.
When Dex and the others had signed the original contract with Carto's faction, one clause had been quite clear: they were only permitted to take action against Carto's demons after those demons displayed explicit malice or made the first move.
This clause kept rival factions from sabotaging one another. But it also meant that if Gewa dared to use trickery in the contract—if he tried to trap them with fine print—it would be interpreted as a hostile act.
And then the gloves would come off.
So Gewa did no such thing.
One by one, the demons reviewed the contracts. After confirming that everything was in order, they scrawled their marks on the infernal parchment using blood, soul essence, or some other unholy signature.
When the last contract was signed, Gewa clapped his hands again and the scrolls disappeared into thin air.
"Now that everything is official, let's get into the details of the mission."
He paused only for a second before continuing, his voice serious.
"Our target is the magic-powered city of Augustus, located not far from here. Among the dozen or so human kingdoms in the region, it is by far the most powerful. As of the last count, it holds a permanent population of roughly seven million. Due to recent refugee influxes caused by neighboring unrest, the number may now exceed ten million."
A few murmurs rippled through the cave.
Gewa went on, his tone growing colder.
"The city is heavily fortified. Our intelligence suggests at least thirty demigod-level defenders, including renowned indigenous champions and legendary-class warriors. The magic defenses are robust, and their outer wall can repel mid-tier siege spells."
As he listed off the stats, numbers, and risk factors, many of the demons leaned forward in interest. There was a glint in their eyes—not of fear, but of anticipation.
Dex gave a low whistle, lips curling into a malicious grin.
"Well, well... Augustus, is it?" he said with a slow, almost amused drawl. "That's a place I'm... quite familiar with~"