Antionette and her forces held the line for half a day before Maximus heard the rustling of the cocoon near him.

  "That one was much stronger," she fumed as she emerged once again.

  "You should call off your forces," Maximus warned. "You have cleared much chaff, but stronger demons are coming."

  "This is merely my own chaff," Antionette assured him, looking toward Maximus.

  "I am sure," he replied, "but there are still going to be two more days of fighting before we even see the Demon Queen crest the horizon. End your ability. Stop summoning more troops. The real battle is about to begin."

  Antionette sighed. "I am a bit mentally fatigued," she admitted as she sagged. Maximus could feel her shut down her own skill.

  The moment the last of the ants were overrun by demons, the ancient dragons began taking turns unleashing their breath weapons. Antionette had bought Maximus enough time to coach his allies further on what he expected and how he needed them to fight.

  Unlike last time, several demons were able to weather the storm of elemental fury. This was to be expected—stronger demons had very high resistances.

  "Brace to receive their charge!" Maximus called out to his forces. His order was carried down the massive lines of his army like water down a river. Fighting the stronger demons trickling in would be hard enough, but the chaff still pouring in to reinforce them would muddy the waters and cause chaos.

  Then a spell flew from one of the flanks. A massive tornado of spiraling golden fire erupted in the middle of the demonic forces. The chaff was incinerated, while the stronger demons emerged mostly intact. The fact that it had caused much damage at all was impressive.

  That was when Maximus saw what the war trolls could do. The first demon to near a troll—a stronger variant that had survived the fiery tornado—was simply reduced to mist. Maximus swore he could see the troll yawning as its massive metal club flicked out and unmade the demon.

  While Maximus was impressed, he knew the worst was yet to come. It took only another hour before solid lines of demons marched through the fiery tornado. Each wave was stronger than the last. The closer the Demon Queen drew, the stronger the demons they would face.

  "Archers!" Maximus called. "Mages! Fire at will!"

  A small ocean of arrows rose into the air before spells and abilities were triggered to amplify their numbers. For every arrow Maximus saw rise, a dozen or more fell. Ranks of demons were swallowed beneath the deluge. Then the magic struck. So many mages cast at once that the spells hit like a physical force. Fewer demons fell, but the front line staggered, its momentum broken. When the enemy finally reached the front, Maximus’s men were able to reap a grim harvest before the demons ever met the shield wall.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  To the credit of the trolls, they were exceptional wave-break units. They stood firm even as demonic forces swarmed them. Every swing of their clubs cleared wide swaths of space, funneling demons into the lanes between them.

  "There are so many," Antionette noted idly.

  "Indeed," Maximus agreed. "Far too many. Many will still die here today. But we have a decent chance at a real victory."

  Then the ancient dragons began casting spells of their own. Their overcharged magics punched holes through the demon ranks as the spells detonated, but it did not stop the demons from reaching the front line.

  The front became a meat grinder in the truest sense of the word. The demons cared nothing for casualties or morale. They hurled themselves forward, committing their full bodies to every attack, every leap, every motion. It was a ferocity his men could not match—but the line held. Maximus began activating his skills to further bolster his army.

  A cry rose from the right flank. Maximus turned, shocked, as another ally emerged. The Adventurer’s Guild had arrived in force. Alycia stood amid her guildmates as the adventurers slammed into the flank. It was an explosive entrance—reckless, but effective. The morale boost was undeniable. Maximus knew they would soon have to pull back, splintering the demon tide and widening the front, but it was already too late to stop.

  Then the blizzard rolled through the demonic ranks. A cold so deep that Maximus felt its bite even from atop the hill.

  "That is Sylt," Antionette chirped. "The other Envoy for my dungeon."

  Once the cold fully settled, a wave of blazing heat followed. The demons’ magically constructed bodies shattered from thermal shock, pushing the front line back far enough to give the adventurers time to regroup—and the entire shield wall time to breathe.

  "That was an impressive application of magic," Maximus allowed.

  "Sylt and Rey are still holding back," Antionette sighed. "Like me." She stood and stretched. "I think I want to participate again."

  Maximus expected her to hurl herself back into the fray. Instead, she clasped her hands and muttered a prayer. Green and violet rain fell upon his troops, restoring health and stamina in equal measure.

  "A healing spell?" Maximus asked.

  "A simple prayer," she countered. "It must be used sparingly—it does not distinguish between friend and foe. But it is useful during a lull."

  "So you are a cleric?" Maximus asked.

  "No," Antionette replied. "I am just a good daughter." With that, her wings carried her toward the adventurers.

  It was not long before the demonic tide slammed into the shield wall once more. The battle resumed.

  Maximus had not witnessed carnage like this since he had been cursed to his bipedal form. He watched with pain in his eyes as his men paid in blood to hold the line.

  The rain of arrows and spells became unending. Even so, more demons strode through it, using the bodies of their fallen as shields to continue their advance. The legion was forced to give ground simply due to the sheer height of the corpses piling up—yet still the demons came. Their twisted forms crashed against the shield wall like ravening beasts.

  A roar thundered from above as massive nightmare cats descended from the skies. Hundreds of them fell upon the demons, fangs and claws parting reinforced demonic flesh like knives through hot butter. They did not linger, striking swiftly before returning to the sky to avoid being bogged down.

  "Those are the other reinforcements from Vitalmire," came Rey’s voice.

  "Interesting creatures," Maximus admitted.

  "My lord calls them manticores," Rey informed him. "They are little more than hunting cats with wings. They make excellent cavalry charges, though."

  "Indeed they do," Maximus allowed. He glanced toward the ancient dragons, who still sat behind the lines casting spells like common mages. "Too bad not every dungeon could send the same amount of support yours did."

  "If every dungeon could," Rey said with a tinkling laugh, "I would be dismayed. If all could send this kind of support, what would their wars look like?"

  "You know," Maximus said, refocusing on the battle, "that is a very good point."