CHAPTER 105: THE MARCH BEGINS

Dawn broke over Eldhar with the kind of perfect clarity that felt like mockery.

Clear skies. Gentle breeze. Temperature mild enough that even demon physiology found it comfortable. The kind of beautiful morning that should have accompanied celebrations or festivals.

Not the beginning of suicide war.

Liam stood at the marshaling grounds’ edge, watching two hundred thousand demons organize into formation with precision that would have seemed impossible three months ago.

Seven legions, each twenty-eight thousand strong, arranged in columns that stretched for miles.

Supply wagons interspersed throughout. Medical units positioned for rapid deployment. Command structures clearly designated with banners that marked hierarchy even from distance.

It was magnificent. Terrifying. A demonstration of military power that the Demon Empire hadn’t mustered in living memory.

And he was leading it toward probable catastrophic defeat.

"Legion One ready to march, my lord." Commander Torven approached, his armor pristine despite the dawn hour suggesting he’d been awake all night. "Twenty-eight thousand troops. Full supplies. Morale is... adequate."

"Adequate is honest." Liam appreciated that Torven didn’t claim enthusiasm that would be obvious lie. "Formation looks good. You’ve done excellent work preparing them."

"They’re ready to die well if nothing else." Torven’s voice was matter-of-fact. "That’s what you do when mathematics suggest survival is improbable—ensure the dying serves purpose."

"Let’s aim for surviving instead."

"Let’s aim for both. Survive if possible. Die usefully if not." Torven saluted and returned to his legion.

One by one, the other legion commanders reported ready status. Legion Two through Seven, all confirming troops prepared, supplies loaded, formations established.

Two hundred thousand demons waiting for single command to begin seventeen-day march toward Sanctum Lux.

Seventeen days until they discovered if this gamble saved the empire or ended it.

Lilith appeared beside him, dressed in armor he’d never seen her wear before.

Black plate with gold accents, clearly ceremonial but functional enough to suggest she’d actually use it if necessary.

Her snow-white hair was braided back, crown replaced with simpler circlet that wouldn’t interfere with helmet if combat required it.

"You’re coming with us?" Liam’s surprise was evident.

"I never joined the war because I needed to remain to rule, but if this march fails...there won’t be an Empire left to rule," Her golden eyes were steady. "Besides, someone needs to manage political complications that arise during seventeen-day military campaign. Can’t do that from Eldhar."

"It’s dangerous."

"Everything is dangerous now. Might as well be dangerous together." She smiled slightly. "Also, you’ll need someone to remind you to sleep and eat during march. Left to your own devices, you’d probably forget both while obsessing over tactical details."

She wasn’t wrong.

The last three weeks had been consumed by planning to the point where basic self-care became afterthought.

"The Houses aren’t happy about you leaving the capital."

"The Houses are never happy. That’s their default state." Lilith’s voice carried amusement. "I’ve left governance in hands of advisors who’ll maintain stability during our absence. They’ll manage or they won’t. Either way, my presence matters more here than dealing with political maneuvering that can wait until we return."

"If we return."

"When we return." Her correction was firm. "I’ve spent ten years surviving impossible situations. I’m not dying before seeing how this particular impossibility resolves."

A commotion near the rear formations drew Liam’s attention.

He recognized the dark armor and silver symbols—Fourth Order warriors moving through the assembled legions, their presence causing subtle discomfort among conventional military forces.

Kael’thra emerged from the group, her scarred face set in grim determination.

"The Fourth Order is deployed, my lord. Two hundred thirty-seven warriors. Advance scouts already ranging three days ahead. Counter-intelligence teams monitoring for Radiant Empire observation. Assassination specialists positioned along projected march route." Her report was crisp and professional. "We’re ready to eliminate any threats to the army’s advance."

"Try not to start diplomatic incidents with civilian populations we pass through," Liam cautioned. "Some territories between here and Sanctum Lux are technically neutral."

"Neutral territories that allow Radiant Empire to operate within their borders are collaborators deserving elimination." Kael’thra’s zealotry was evident. "Divine will doesn’t recognize neutrality in conflicts between gods."

"Divine will recognizes that alienating potential allies through unnecessary violence is tactically stupid." Liam’s correction was pointed. "You eliminate military threats. You avoid civilian casualties unless absolutely necessary for operational security. Clear?"

"Clear, my lord." Kael’thra bowed. "Though I note that mercy toward enemies of divine will is—"

"Not your decision to question." The command carried enough authority to make nearby demons flinch. "You serve by executing orders, not interpreting them. I tell you what divine will requires. You implement without theological debate. Understood?"

"Understood, Lord Azra." The submission was absolute but Liam could see the zealot behind her eyes calculating how to serve what she believed was divine intent versus explicit commands that contradicted her interpretation.

The Fourth Order was powerful asset.

Also dangerous liability that required constant management to prevent from becoming independent problem.

She departed to coordinate her warriors, and Liam turned his attention back to the assembled legions.

Two hundred thousand demons. The largest military force ever commanded. The largest force the Demon Empire had fielded in generations.

All waiting for him to give the order that began everything.

He climbed onto the raised platform that had been constructed for this moment.

The elevation gave him visibility across the entire marshaling ground, let every soldier see the Primordial Demon who’d consolidated absolute authority and committed them to apocalyptic warfare.

The assembled legions fell silent.

"Soldiers of the Demon Empire." His voice carried across the grounds through magical amplification that Lilith’s mages had arranged. "Today we begin the march toward Sanctum Lux. Seventeen days to reach the most fortified city in the Radiant Empire. Then assault on defenses that have never been breached by demon forces."

No cheering. No enthusiastic response. Just grim attention from warriors who knew what awaited.

"I’m not going to pretend this will be easy. I’m not going to promise that everyone returns. The casualties will be catastrophic. Most of you will die attempting objectives that might prove impossible." His grey eyes swept the assembled formations. "But I’ll tell you why we march anyway."

He gestured broadly.

"The Radiant Empire summons heroes. Divine champions blessed by their god to cleanse demon-kind from existence. They have prophecy that says twenty-one heroes will end our civilization. They’re working to fulfill that prophecy through summoning rituals we cannot counter defensively."

The mathematics were brutal. Undeniable.

"So we’re not defending. We’re attacking. We’re destroying their summoning infrastructure before prophecy completes. We’re proving that demons don’t wait for ordained extinction—we fight back even when survival seems impossible."

His voice carried absolute certainty.

"Some of you worship me as Primordial Demon returned. Others see me as talented commander who won battles. Some think I’m human pretending to be god." He smiled slightly. "I don’t care which you believe. What matters is that every demon marching today understands we’re fighting for survival of our entire species. This isn’t conquest. This isn’t glory. This is preventing genocide."

The army absorbed this.

Processed the blunt honesty that acknowledged both his uncertain divinity and the apocalyptic stakes.

"March in formation. Maintain discipline. Follow your commanders. Execute orders without hesitation." His voice was firm. "We advance as unified force that demonstrates demon military power hasn’t been broken by years of defensive warfare. We prove that when demons commit to objective, we’re unstoppable."

He raised his hand, and silence fell absolute.

"Legion commanders—are your forces ready?"

"Legion One ready!" Torven’s voice boomed.

"Legion Two ready!" The responses cascaded through the formations.

"Legion Three ready!"

"Legion Four ready!"

All seven legions confirming readiness. Two hundred thousand demons acknowledging their willingness to march toward probable death.

Liam’s hand fell.

"Then we march. For the empire. For survival. For proving that demons don’t accept ordained extinction without fighting back."