CHAPTER 45: PREPRATIONS AND A WEIRD LOGIC

The morning sun shone brighter than ever over the walls, which now housed elves, werewolves, demons, and a few humans.

The heat was intense—not only from the sun’s radiation but also from the unending rumble that filled the land.

Preparations were underway for the defense of their clan against a god and his dark army, and no one was left out of the efforts.

Allen stood a short distance from the wall with Natasha and Elara behind him, quietly observing the progress of the war defenses.

Kelion led a group of earth-manipulating elves stationed close to the walls. They mimicked his movements almost like a dance, the ground beneath them vibrating steadily.

They were clearly turning the soil nearest to the wall into quicksand—designed to collapse at the slightest touch.

"That works to buy time," Allen murmured, "but it’s not effective enough." His mind compared the strategy to Pyraegon and Dolonides—both infused with Hadas’s blood—matching their strength to that of the goblins who shared the same curse.

His gaze shifted meters behind, where lines of fire-manipulating elves stood in groups like watchmen under the daybreak sun.

Allen shook his head and exhaled. "Usually, in wars, people wear body armor for protection. But here, even that’s forbidden."

Natasha giggled softly behind him. "According to Kelion," she smirked, eyes glinting with mischief, "clothes are hindrances to the growth of the clan... it’s better to keep things visible for quick, easier choices."

"What—" Allen stretched the word, baffled by the strange logic that was the very reason his manhood was swinging freely in the open air.

"Don’t forget the part when he said ’the bigger, the better,’" Elara added with a giggle, playfully pushing her chest forward.

Allen hummed, raising a finger. "Back in the human world, I admired decent girls the most because their clothes kept... certain parts fresh—away from the burning sun."

"Everything has an advantage and a disadvantage," Elara countered.

"But what about those warriors left bare on the battlefield?" Allen gestured toward the coordinated line of flame manipulators.

Elara coughed deliberately, imagining a brutal scene—a man stabbed right in his most vulnerable place mid-battle. His balls.

"Maybe we should get iron pants for everyone," Elara teased with an unnecessarily loud laugh.

Allen’s smirk returned as he turned his attention to another group—wind manipulators trained personally by Cealen. They stood just behind the flame users, positioned so they could rotate to the front line without collision. The flame users launched fireballs while the wind users pushed them forward with concentrated gusts.

"The whole idea is to buy you and Elara time," Allen continued.

"We promise we won’t fail, my lord," Elara said with a serious gaze.

"The lives of the whole clan are in your hands. What we’re expecting are undying beings—meaning even these walls of wind and flame will wear out with time."

"Trust us, Lord Allen," Natasha smirked with determination. "All we have to do is find that Nora girl and kill her—the whole army dies with her. No big deal."

Allen smiled faintly at her confidence. ’If only they knew exactly who they were up against... but they do have a chance’, he thought.

The plan was simple but dangerous. Elara would locate Nora, the necromancer, using her ominisight dark elven powers. Natasha would then engage and kill her, permanently ending the goblin army.

The flame and wind walls were arranged so that fire was immediately extinguished by wind—avoiding any chance of scattering the undead and causing further chaos. No blades were to be used—just a thick, coordinated wall of living defense encircling both the elven and demon clans.

Kelion had insisted on guarding the werewolf territory himself, the weight of so many foreign lives pressing heavily on him.

Lilitu and Thalvron’s role was to dispose of any goblins that fell into the quicksand—teleporting them far from the clan using Kelion’s portal-creation ability, still in the act of buying time.

Amaterasu, Cealen, and Garric were stationed across the clan lands, tasked with confronting any unforeseen moves from Hadas.

And finally... for Allen—

"Is there any female with cloning ability?" he asked, his voice laced with quiet calculation.

"Yes, my lord," Elara replied without hesitation. As a princess, she knew the affairs of the kingdom and its people as easily as the back of her hand.

"But she’s a demon, and her ability is limited to making only one clone of herself."

"That’s enough," Allen said to himself. ’If I’m going to fight Hadas one-on-one, I might as well match cunning with cunning.’

"Does she like... cock?" Allen murmured just loud enough for both women to hear.

"Ha—look who’s about to use his strange ability on someone’s mother," Natasha teased, shooting him a playful glare. "In this world, cock are like the air we breathe. The only likeable ines are special ones—extra big or white cum. So of course she’d like it."

She winked seductively before giving him a firm slap where it counted.

"Take me to her before Hadas comes knocking," Allen muttered, glancing away with a touch of shyness.

"Our pleasure," Elara and Natasha answered together, their eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite define.

"As long as it makes you stronger and keeps you alive. Am I right, Elara?" Natasha asked, her voice teasing.

"That’s all we want for you, Lord Allen," Elara added, stepping behind him to push him forward while Natasha cradled his arousal, leading the way with a dangerous but purposeful smile.

Allen didn’t protest. He knew they were both worried about losing him to Hadas, judging from the pale expressions they had worn earlier. He understood—they were seizing the opportunity to make more memories before the final battle, still hoping he would return victorious.

As they descended through the streets of the elven clan, every corner was on high alert for the coming disaster.

Pleasure houses were closed. Classes in touching, massaging, and more intimate arts were suspended. Every member now contributed in whatever way they could.

Even the water manipulation clan was involved—despite their legendary leader, Maxen, being exiled to the Land of Immortals. They worked tirelessly, channeling water beneath the shallow quicksand, strengthening it as another barrier to slow the enemy.

Hadas was Allen’s match, and Allen himself was now preparing for battle. His training was... the kind most would desire—but only he received.

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[Author’s Note]

If you’re reading this, then you’re one of my top fans—and I deeply appreciate the dedication you’ve shown to my story. This might include spoilers, but I need your honest opinion. My pacing in this book has been fast; I’ve already outlined almost the entire plot. All that’s left is the final twist.

At the end, Allen dies to become a god, and his body transforms into a new universe. But... I’ve found a way for him to achieve this without actually dying.

Should I end the book here—or should I use the twist and keep going?