"So… you intend to surrender?"
The day Sombravida launched his long-planned offensive against the Northern Alliance, he led a massive force of Adjuchas to their border.
What he expected:
Resistance.
Formation lines.
A defensive stand.
What he saw:
Nothing.
Not a single Adjuchas.
Not even scattered Gillian.
The territory felt… emptied.
"They fled?" Sombravida's first instinct was suspicion.
But that made no sense.
For weeks he had sealed the border personally. Any Garganta opening would produce violent spatial distortion — impossible to conceal from his senses.
If thousands had escaped through Black Cavities, he would have felt it.
Yet there had been no such disturbance.
Sombravida narrowed his eyes.
"Advance."
A Strange Concentration
Deeper inside the Northern Alliance's territory, Sombravida's sensory units finally detected spiritual pressure.
Dense.
Packed.
But strangely stationary.
The concentration of Gillian signatures was unusually high — clustered together unnaturally.
Sombravida frowned.
"That formation is suicidal."
One properly aimed Cero could erase the rear ranks instantly.
This wasn't a battle formation.
It was… assembly.
Then two spiritual signatures detached from the mass.
Two lord-class Adjuchas approached alone.
They stopped several hundred meters away.
And knelt.
Confusion at the Front
"Your Majesty…" Jekain muttered.
"We prepared for total war."
Sombravida stepped forward with Nel and Jekain.
"So," Sombravida said calmly, "you wish to surrender?"
"Yes, Lord Sombravida."
Not "Yinfeng."
Sombravida noticed that immediately.
He scratched lightly behind his mask, faintly amused.
So even they had seen through the hierarchy.
He had intended to temper his troops in real war.
Instead—
The enemy bent the knee.
Acceptance with Conditions
Sombravida considered for several breaths.
Extra soldiers meant leverage against Gatmont later.
True loyalty could be forged through shared bloodshed and reward.
Temporary obedience was sufficient.
"Very well," Sombravida said.
"You will transfer all resources."
"Then gather your Adjuchas."
"We march together against the Northwest Alliance."
The two lords stiffened slightly.
"Our strength alone cannot defeat them."
"You will conquer only the bordering territory," Sombravida replied calmly.
"The rest is irrelevant to you."
"If two lords cannot take a single territory in three days…"
"Then I have no use for you."
The two bowed deeply.
"That will not fail, my lord."
"Good."
"Report to Yinfeng for resource integration."
They withdrew immediately.
Strategic Redirection
Nel glanced sideways.
"So… no training battle?"
Sombravida shook his head.
"Training can come later."
He turned north.
"We split the Northwest Alliance."
"Seize half."
"Force the rest south."
"Let their three alliances clash with Gatmont."
"We pressure from the north."
"When both sides exhaust themselves…"
"We inherit the field."
Nel's tail flicked.
"Hehe. Understood."
Northern Advance
With the Northern lords blocking from behind, Sombravida's forces bypassed the former frontline and moved to the northernmost edge of the Northwest Alliance.
They began a controlled southern push.
Void Beast Mines were deployed ahead of the vanguard.
Borut remotely triggered them at optimal density thresholds.
Each detonation:
Gillian collapsed instantly
Adjuchas suffered paralysis
toxic mist disrupted formation
Seconds of paralysis were enough.
Cero volleys followed immediately.
The Northwest Alliance suffered heavy casualties in the first engagements.
But Sombravida did not press recklessly.
He ordered cycles:
Advance.
Explode.
Withdraw.
Rest.
Reposition.
Void Beast Mines were limited resources.
Direct clashes were minimized unless Sombravida himself intervened.
His campaign was not conquest.
It was suffocation.
Northwest Alliance Panic
Days passed.
The Northwest lords convened in emergency council.
"What is the Northern Alliance doing?! Why are they assisting Yinfeng?!"
"They defected. Ogrind and Barbournes surrendered."
"We denied them support. They chose survival."
"And those bombs? What are they?"
"Spikes, poison mist, wide dispersal. We cannot defend unless we vacate the blast radius instantly."
"Our Adjuchas are paralyzed. Gillian die outright."
"Raiding forces are annihilated by buried mines."
"Only a full-scale assault with dozens of Adjuchas might break through."
Another lord spoke grimly:
"Have you noticed?"
"When we mass for an offensive, Yinfeng switches to defensive posture."
"When we withdraw, he advances again."
"He is not trying to destroy us."
Silence fell.
"He is driving us."
"…Driving us where?"
Another voice answered quietly.
"South."
A long pause.
"Toward Gatmont."
Understanding spread.
The Realization
"If Yinfeng possessed those weapons, why has Gatmont never used them?" one lord asked.
"If Gatmont had such power, the southern front would already be crushed."
"…So Yinfeng concealed it."
"…He intends to become king."
The implication hung heavy in the cavern.
If they fought Yinfeng alone, they would lose.
If the three alliances united and attacked him, they might overwhelm him with sheer numbers—
But only if Gatmont did not intervene.
If Gatmont seized that moment, they would be trapped between two predators.
Sandwiched.
Devoured.
But if they united and attacked Gatmont instead—
Yinfeng might withhold support.
And when Gatmont fell…
Yinfeng would become king.
A new tyrant.
But perhaps one they could negotiate with.
The Choice
"It is death either way," one lord muttered.
"Unless…"
"Ogrind and Barbournes."
"They surrendered."
"If Gatmont wins, we are dead."
"If Yinfeng wins…"
"Perhaps we survive."
Another voice added:
"Or we abandon lordship entirely and leave the Central Forest."
That suggestion was met with cold stares.
No one wished to relinquish centuries of accumulated territory.
Finally, one lord spoke clearly:
"We test Yinfeng's intentions."
"If he seeks extermination, we flee together."
"If he seeks dominion…"
"Then perhaps we kneel."
A long silence.
Then—
"Agreed."
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