Chapter 618: The Council of the North

Asmodeus held his lovely daughter close to his chest while looking out into the distance. “Tsuki, did you miss Dad?” Her eyes shimmered like jewels as she watched his face, a strange sense of intelligence lingering in the back of her orbs.

“Ba-Ba… wuuu….wuu!”

She made strange voices, but the sound close to “Da-da” still made his chest turbulent. Aurelia and Velmina both peeked at him from Ciela’s arms, curious and also in awe of his huge, handsome figure.

At least he hoped.

“We should probably prepare for the upcoming battle.” Leviathan knelt with her fist to the floor, calling Asmodeus to focus and realise he couldn’t just enjoy the moment with his daughters.

After victory, I will spoil them all…

Asmodeus kissed Tsuki’s tiny forehead before handing her back into Riel’s arms. The fox child whined softly, clutching at his cloak until Aurelia tugged on her hand with surprising stubbornness for her size.

However, Velmina just watched him with her crimson eyes.

“You three…” He brushed their heads with his palm. “I’ll come back. No matter what.”

Ciela whistled before three beautiful elven women appeared, each of them a little older than her and with plump, curvy bodies. “Take care of the princesses.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Ciela tilted her head, smiling despite the exhaustion on her face. “You’d better. If you think you can leave me to raise them all alone, you’re even more of a fool than I remember. Our children will be born soon… so, don’t vanish again!”

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before stepping back. “…I’ll hold you to that.”

Leviathan’s sharp voice broke the moment. “My lord. The knights await you.”

Sariel and Riel had already sobered, wings folding tight against their backs as they followed her gaze toward the inner citadel. Duty pressed upon his shoulders like cold weights devouring the warmth of his chest, but Asmodeus didn’t flinch.

“Fine.” He turned, straightening his shoulders as he handed the weight of fatherhood back to the woman he trusted most. “Ciela, join me before you can rest. Levia, Sariel, Riel keep up your focus and tell me if you sense any changes in our knights. I’ll need your minds more than claws this time.”

As they approached, the wide gates of the inner citadel spread open.

The echo of his boots against stone filled the cold silence.

The round table waited, different from usual because less than half of the women who sat here were absent. Instead, the clan leader elected by the orcs and goblins attended, along with the new captain of Demon Warriors.

Each rose to their feet as his presence rolled through the hall.

Asmodeus sat at the head.

All his worries and doubts faded in this seat; he became the King.

“Then let’s begin, we don’t have much time.”

The air inside the round chamber was heavy with smoke from the braziers, thick enough to cling to the skin. Orcs, goblins, and demons sat shoulder-to-shoulder, weapons propped at their sides. Not the usual polished gathering of nobles and generals.

This was a raw survival council.

Asmodeus leaned his cheek against one hand, fingers tapping the table’s edge while his eyes swept across them. “Report. What do we face?”

He didn’t know the orcs personally, but each of them watched him with a reverent glow.

The first to stand was the orc warlord, a massive brute with tusks worn down from years of grinding them on shields. “Scouts tracked them three days south. Two columns. Not just men. Siege beasts too—massive things, their hides blackened, eyes green like coals. They drag the frames for towers and rams.”

“Why do they capture females!?” A demon warrior spoke.

“Isn’t it known that our King loves beautiful women?” Another orc spoke, with a bow to Asmodeus.

A murmur rippled through the hall.

“So you seem to think they are trying to kill or capture my women?” Asmodeus asked the Orc warlord, who nodded to him with a slight tremble.

“I see, good work.”

Then he turned his gaze to the goblin chief.

The goblin chief.

Short, scarred, and his single good eye gleaming.

He slammed his fist against the wood. “And wyverns. Dozens. Our watchers saw them circling the columns. He’s corrupting the skies. If they take roost above the mountains, our walls mean nothing.”

Leviathan’s hand tightened on her shield strap. “And the soldiers?”

The new Demon Knight captain shifted in her armour.

Her face was haggard, eyes ringed with exhaustion. “Humans. Not just soldiers from Grigor, priests and even merchants. Most enthralled, others… they walked to him willingly. Their loyalty is gone.”

She paused for a moment before continuing.

“Your Majesty, some are men we fought beside when the Demon Queen fell.”

Asmodeus nodded, his lips twitching. He didn’t respond at first, taking a moment to think and prepare how to answer.

“Master.” Sariel’s soft voice pulled him back. She rested her hands on the table, pink hair falling like a curtain. “We can help shield the army’s minds. But… we won’t be able to fight, the strain will leave us weakened.”

Riel echoed her with a nod, golden eyes sharp. “It will strain us, but we’ll hold. Better that than let them be stolen mid-battle.”

Asmodeus closed his eyes, pulling his power inward.

His blood burned with anger at the betrayals, but he couldn’t burn the enthralled army to dust. He could not succumb to this urge inside… not yet.

“Fine,” he muttered. His voice cut through the council like a blade. “You’ll focus on that. We’ll save as many as we can. Even the damned deserve a chance to be free.”

The orc warlord slammed his fist on the table again, tusks bared. “Bah! Save them? What good are hollow men in our ranks? Better to burn the thralls and focus on breaking their lines. If we hesitate, we die.”

A unison of low growls came from his clansmen.

The goblins hissed in agreement, claws scraping wood.

Velvet would have cut him down with a glare if she were here, but Asmodeus only arched one brow, letting the storm pass.

He could understand the orcs and goblins. If not for his human heritage, he would have been just as merciless in attaining a complete victory, then crushed Mephisto with his axe.

Levia rose smoothly, her voice like steel. “And when the same corruption crawls into your sons, Warlord? When your brother, your chieftain, your mate is taken and forced to slit your throat with a smile? Will you burn them too?”

Asmodeus smiled.

You’ve grown so much, my lovely Levia.

The chamber fell silent.

The orc’s tusks ground together.

There was no correct answer to the situation, and Asmodeus listened to everyone’s opinions.

His job was to create a plan that would save the most people and had the highest chance of success. Not to judge them or blame those who become heated and emotional.

Ciela followed up, the dark elf causing the orcs and goblins to back off.

“We cannot waste lives, neither theirs nor the ones that stand here now! Every soul we free weakens the enemy. My archers will fight, but only if you all fight with me—a chance for elves and the orcs to put their differences aside.”

Her green eyes cut across the orcs and goblins with the calm weight of royalty.

The first to nod was the warchief.

“An elf who wishes to fight with us orcs? Dark skinned elf, good elf. We accept!”

The tension cracked at last, laughter rumbling from the orcs, sharp cackles from the goblins. Even the demon warriors straightened, the weight on their shoulders easing as the council shifted from anger to grim unity.

Asmodeus leaned back in his chair, cheek resting against his knuckles.

He let them laugh, joke and converse for a moment. The weight of the battle to come wasn’t world-ending, but for these clans, it might be. So he would let the pressure of the coming slaughter sit just far enough away that they could breathe.

Then his voice rolled through the chamber, calm and certain.

“Good. You’ve said your piece, now hear mine. We don’t fight for ourselves. Not for orc pride, goblin spite, or elven grudges. We fight for the children behind these walls. For the wives, the brothers, the fathers who will never lift a blade again if we fall. That’s the only reason worth bleeding for.”

Orcs lived with combat and their tribal rules.

Goblins, similar to orcs, carried a code of honour.

That’s why Asmodeus could accept them, because he now understood more than just a human’s perspective.

They didn’t rape or pillage at will.

These creatures were people, too, with their own thoughts.

The hall went silent.

Even the braziers seemed to dim under the weight of his words.

He stood, Blood Reaver ringing as he set it point-first against the stone floor. “The wall is our shield. My blood will be your strength. Sariel, Riel. Please keep our minds clean. Levia! You’ll command the knights. Ciela! Your archers will carry our lives on their strings.

The rest of you—hold until your last breath, or you’ll never draw another.”

Their eyes gleamed bright in the flickering candles, and after a moment’s silence, voices rose, from a whisper to shouts of valour.

Orcs, goblins, demons, elves.

Asmodeus looked around the table, satisfied.

“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, we shall start inter-race training when they come. We will show Mephisto that the north is not his to take.

The north is our home!”