Morgos, the Demon Lord of Rot

What Vivian did next was simple: she would gather all of her old forces along the way.

The old units still maintained some contact with each other, so it wasn’t difficult for Vivian to find her former subordinates.

However, at this point in time, even the demon armies that were once intact had been whittled down to almost nothing in the attrition of past battles.

Vivian could only feel helpless about this.

And there was only one simple, crude, and effective method to restore her subordinates’ confidence and re-establish her own prestige.

That was to come down hard on the high-ranking demons serving as battle supervisors.

Although Vivian herself also felt that being meek toward the human Heroes while coming down hard on her own kin was a bit off, if she wanted to regroup her old forces and establish her authority, she had to make an example of these high-ranking supervisory demons.

Besides, they truly deserved to die.

Vivian led her troops along the front line, and the sights she witnessed were shocking.

The crude camps were crowded with sallow, emaciated, and wounded demon soldiers, most of them with numb expressions, like livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

The air in the camps was filled with the pungent smell of low-quality medicine, filth, and despair.

And those high-ranking demon nobles responsible for “supervising the battle,” along with their personal guards, often occupied the relatively intact tents, acting high and mighty, turning a deaf ear to the wails of the wounded, concerned only with how to stuff the next batch of cannon fodder into the meat grinder of the battlefield.

After all, the Demon Clan was not a harmonious family.

Within the Demon Clan, which was constantly at war with various powers, it was naturally a case of “might makes right.”

Defeated remnants, naturally, had no say.

Of course, at the beginning, those supervisors who threw their weight around in the name of Morgos, the Demon Lord of Rot, did not realize Vivian’s return at first.

When they still tried to reprimand her in Morgos’s name, Vivian’s response was the pressure of a Demon Lord and merciless death.

“…But with such a big commotion, I’m afraid I’ll have to face that fellow Morgos soon.”

As the sun rose, Vivian took a breath and turned to look at the numerous demons behind her.

In the time from last night until sunrise, Vivian had worked nonstop to gather her scattered old forces from the front line.

By sunrise, she had already gathered over a thousand demons, which could be considered a considerable force.

One small squad after another returned to Vivian’s command.

Although there were many wounded among them, and she would still have to deal with their injuries and negotiate for medicine later, having something was better than nothing.

Moreover, several thousand demons deserting the front line was indeed no small matter, but in any case, Vivian would no longer allow Morgos, the Demon Lord of Rot, to continue expending her forces as cannon fodder.

‘Morgos must know about me by now.’

Vivian looked toward the direction of the main demon camp, thinking to herself.

After all, she had only killed or crippled the high-ranking demon nobles who were oppressing her old forces and ordering them to their deaths; she hadn’t touched the elite supervisory armies standing by.

And those guys had certainly run back to report.

After all, the return of a Demon Lord was no small matter.

A meeting with Morgos, the Demon Lord of Rot, was inevitable.

But Vivian was not in a hurry.

She would gather her old forces first.

She could not tolerate her subordinates being used as cannon fodder to be sent to their deaths any longer.

‘That was all precious manpower! Were those damn lives meant to be wasted just like that?!’

Vivian was both angry and anxious, but at this point, she could only proceed step by step and regroup her forces.

The good news, however, was that the news of her return was spreading rapidly along the demon front.

Some hard-to-find old squads had also followed Vivian’s tracks and aura to find her, which saved her a lot of effort.

At the same time, the news of Vivian’s return also made many of the supervisory nobles afraid to act, some even fleeing for fear of being purged by the Demon Lord.

That was also a good thing.

Vivian, without any courtesy, directly ordered the seizure of all useful military supplies and the medicine needed by the wounded, directly replenishing her troops.

As for the front line and the grand strategy?

She couldn’t care less.

This offensive was never about territory or resources in the first place; it was purely a battle to wear down the forces of Vivian’s old command.

Morgos, the Demon Lord of Rot’s army was said to be holding the line from a distance, but in reality, they were just supervising the battle.

Vivian couldn’t afford to rest.

Once the troops were more or less assembled, she planned to lead her old forces to retreat to the rear.

After all, there were still several Heroes on the human front line.

Once they learned of Vivian’s existence, especially that guy Garen… who knew if they would organize a surprise attack to surround and intercept her.

Besides, it was still a relatively long way from this place back to her original territory.

How to travel this road was still a problem.

That would be troublesome.

“Lady Demon Lord!”

And just as Vivian was pondering, Lunai, who was beside her, suddenly let out a cry of alarm.

Vivian turned her head and looked in the direction of her cry.

In an instant, the entire sky seemed to darken several shades.

The newly risen sun began to be obscured by a layer of gray, sulfuric miasma.

It even felt as if the very earth were letting out a faint groan; the soil underfoot seemed to lose its vitality, becoming soft and black.

A sense of revulsion and fear, originating from the very instinct of life, rose in the hearts of the thousands of demon soldiers in Vivian’s old forces.

The army, composed of remnants, inevitably stirred with unrest.

“Hmph!”

Vivian frowned, immediately knowing that the newcomer was targeting her.

The next moment, her own mana erupted, repelling the sickeningly corrupt aura from the area around her troops.

On the horizon, a silent army slowly emerged.

The leader rode a massive, skeletal, corrupted dragon.

His figure was gaunt, his head shrouded in a black robe.

He looked like a mummy wrapped in a magnificent black robe, his skin an unsettling ashen-gray, covered in cracked patterns like the bark of a dead tree, looking as if it could peel off at any moment.

Two points of eerie green soulfire burned fiercely where his eyes should be.

His gaze pierced the long distance, locking firmly onto Vivian.

In his hand, he held a twisted staff inlaid with a huge black gemstone.

The dark purple runic banners hanging from the end of the staff stirred without a wind, emitting a thick aura of death and decay.

It was none other than the Demon Lord of Rot—Morgos.

Behind him were hundreds of elite guards completely encased in heavy black armor, wisps of a gray, decaying aura seeping from the cracks in their armor.

Their steps were uniform, carrying a cold, oppressive aura that was neither living nor dead, forming a stark contrast to Vivian’s much larger, yet battered and wounded, army behind her.