The Lizardman chief nodded once after hearing the report.
Four days had passed since the meeting with Soue.
Tomorrow is the day we agreed to join forces. So far, there have been no major losses, and this situation should allow us to hold out until tomorrow without any issues.
The Orcs' attacks were incredibly fierce.
Their numbers surged, and every road was overflowing with Orcs. Even though the labyrinth was a natural maze, it held no meaning against the overwhelming numbers of the Ogres.
The best strategy was to lay traps on specific roads to gradually reduce the number of Orcs.
Still, thanks to the labyrinth, the actual damage was minimal. The maze branched out in many directions, and escape routes and emergency communication lines were still intact.
By rotating the units at the front lines, we managed to minimize the number of direct confrontations and endure.
I don't take credit for this; it's only possible because everyone is holding on, hoping for reinforcements.
Those who have engaged the Orcs directly were surprised by their strength.
They were far more powerful than ordinary Orcs.
Currently, one Lizardman can handle up to three Orcs, but it feels like the Orcs are getting stronger.
This is undoubtedly proof of the Orc Lord's influence.
I strictly ordered the warriors to be replaced immediately if they were injured. If they were to fall in battle, it would only strengthen the Orcs further.
We must defend our lines carefully and firmly.
Still, there is one more day to go.
If we can join forces with the reinforcements, we can use the terrain to our advantage and defeat the Orcs one by one.
At the very least, we can redirect some of the personnel assigned to defend the elements to the offensive.
Thinking about this hopeful scenario, the chief felt a slight sense of relief.
It was then.
A report was delivered that Gabil had returned.
Gabil was furious.
What! A proud Lizardman hiding in a hole like a coward from pigs!
He felt like he was losing himself to anger.
But now, it's fine. He has returned, and now they can fight with the pride of a Lizardman.
With this in mind, he approached the chief.
"Well done, Gabil. Did you manage to secure the Goblins' cooperation?"
"Yes! About 7,000, and I have them waiting in readiness."
"Is that so... With this, we might have a chance."
"Then, let's move out quickly!"
After reporting to the chief, he asked eagerly.
Now that he has returned, he can't let the pigs run wild. He thought the chief must have been waiting for him.
However,
"Hmm? No, we're not moving out yet. While you were away, an alliance was proposed.
The allied forces are expected to arrive tomorrow. We plan to hold a strategy meeting upon their arrival and launch a full-scale offensive."
Caught off guard, the chief said something unexpected.
What? The chief wasn't waiting for him?
This dissatisfaction made Gabil feel unpleasant.
Relying on reinforcements from an unknown place and pigs...
"Chief, if I go out, those pigs are nothing. Give me permission to move out!"
Enraged, he asked for permission to move out. However,
"No. Everything is for tomorrow! You must be tired. Rest and prepare for tomorrow."
He was truly being ignored.
Gabil's head turned white with anger. Prioritizing reinforcements over him! He couldn't forgive this.
"Chief, no, Father! Enough! It seems you're too old to see reality."
"What? Gabil, what are you thinking?"
Until now, he had endured, thinking of him as his father.
Certainly, there were many aspects to respect and honestly praise.
But he couldn't forgive not being recognized.
Indeed, his time has come, he thought.
Gabil nodded to himself and signaled his subordinates.
"Father, your time is over. From today, I am the new chief of the Lizardmen!"
He declared boldly.
At this declaration, the Goblins swarmed into the chief's room.
They aimed their stone spears at the chief and his guards.
His elite Lizardman subordinates stood guard without relaxing.
"Gabil, what are you thinking!?"
The chief's voice was anxious, a rare occurrence.
This fueled Gabil's sense of superiority.
"Father, you've done well so far! Leave the rest to me and enjoy a peaceful retirement!"
He ordered his subordinates to disarm the chief and his guards.
Then, he took the spear, the symbol of the Lizardmen, from his father.
The spear, a magical weapon: Water Vortex Spear.
It felt like power was overflowing. The magic spear of the strongest Lizardman warrior. It was truly a weapon worthy of him.
Looking at his father and the guards,
"Leave the rest to me! It might be uncomfortable, but please bear with it until the battle is over."
He said.
"Wait, Gabil! Don't act rashly! At least wait until tomorrow!"
Ignoring his father's cries,
"It's annoying. Take him away!"
He ordered his subordinates.
He had no intention of killing him. He just didn't want him to interfere.
He would defeat the formidable opponent the chief had struggled with.
This was certainly an event befitting a new hero, and his father would recognize and praise him proudly!
His heart swelled with excitement.
He ordered his subordinates to subdue those supporting the chief. They would surely report the situation.
Then, it would be time to move out.
Gabil couldn't even imagine himself failing.
He ignored his father's advice.
Those who had always supported Gabil were praising and celebrating this coup.
Even those who had been imprisoned overnight were there.
Feeling good from their words, Gabil plopped into the chief's chair.
His time had certainly come.
He felt that repelling the Orcs was a minor issue.
What was happening...
The chief was tormented by regret.
Don't be hasty! He had been advised. This was a warning about such a situation.
He thought he could control the allies.
He never imagined he would be betrayed by his own son...
This was dangerous.
If this continued, the Lizardmen would be destroyed before tomorrow.
Resolutely, he looked at the chief of the guards.
His other son, Gabil's brother.
The chief of the guards nodded in understanding of the signal.
"Go!"
As the chief shouted, the chief of the guards broke free and ran.
He had to inform the allies of this situation.
The man who called himself Soue had not hidden his intentions.
Therefore, he would know which direction to go once he left the labyrinth.
Hanging on to this slim hope, he sent the chief of the guards.
Gabil's subordinates tried to restrain him, but they didn't seem to have the will to attack their comrades and let him escape easily.
He had to stay to take responsibility.
The chief prayed for the safe arrival of the chief of the guards.
A mere five days.
He lamented his own failure to keep this five-day promise.
And to prevent them from being abandoned for failing to keep the promise.
There must be some value in the alliance they proposed. He hoped this value would not be lost.
Gabil would charge out recklessly.
Then, even the rotation units guarding the passages would disappear.
Without rotation, dealing with the gradually strengthening Orcs would be a matter of time before the defense units were defeated.
The women of the various clans gathered in the central plaza of the labyrinth. They would be left without anyone to protect them.
This was unexpected... But lamenting alone wouldn't solve anything.
He resolved to be the last line of defense.
Buying as much time as possible. That was the best he could do.
??????????????????????????
A spacious conference room.
The table was a masterpiece carved from aged fragrant wood.
A large round table that could seat over ten people.
There were twelve chairs, extremely luxurious items that even nobles and royalty would find hard to own.
The floor was covered with a high-quality carpet, likely crafted by artisans over a decade.
A fantastical painting, as if painted by a celestial artist, hung on one wall.
Selling just one item in this room could sustain a noble lifestyle for ten years.
Near the entrance of this room,
A man dressed like a clown stood.
And he addressed the empty room,
"Thank you all for gathering despite your busy schedules today!"
He bowed politely, careful not to offend the unseen figures.
Today's guests were supreme beings who must not be angered.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in one of the chairs.
A faint shadow, indistinct.
"Today, how do you plan to entertain us? I've been bored, so let's get started quickly, shall we?"
A girl-like voice replied.
The room, which was clearly empty a moment ago, now had several presences on the chairs.
"Kukukuku. No need to rush, it will happen soon, right? The birth of a new 'Demon King,' wasn't it?"
"Hehehe. A Demon King! I'm already full of them! More Demon Kings won't be fun at all."
"Come now, don't say that. The ruler of the Jura Great Forest is gone. A new ruler is needed, right?"
"Sure, I could rule that area myself."
"Hmph. That's why we have a non-aggression pact!"
"Shut up! I know."
These free-spirited beings.
The clown-like figure at the entrance couldn't even wipe the sweat from his forehead.
He was a demon, after all, and didn't sweat.
Gelmut, the demon, carefully explained the stage he had prepared.
"Then, everyone! Shall I begin the explanation of the stage? Is that alright?"
He cautiously asked.
The noisy figures stopped their conversation and focused their attention on Gelmut.
The silent pressure.
Did they find it annoying to listen to someone below them?
Anxiety washed over him. They could make someone like Gelmut disappear in an instant based on their mood...
Ignoring his anxiety,
"Hurry up and start! I just said I'm bored, didn't I?"
It seemed he had permission.
Relieved, he began the explanation.
The seeds of conflict he had sown in the forest. Some had been crushed before they could sprout, but a few had taken root.
He had tried to sow seeds among the upper races like Ogres and Treants, but unfortunately, they were rejected this time.
He lacked the power to control them.
However, he could judge those Ogres who rejected his "naming."
He would be satisfied with that for now.
"Then, let's begin! The alliance of forest races against the threat of the Ogre Lord!
The survivors of this battle will have the right to claim the throne of the new 'Demon King'!"
That's right.
The ceremony for the birth of a new 'Demon King.' Gelmut was entrusted with the planning.
He was overjoyed with the task. If he succeeded, he could create a 'Demon King' who would obey his commands.
He had prepared diligently.
A war between races that was supposed to happen 300 years from now.
But due to the unexpected speed of Veldora's disappearance, the plans were altered.
He had intended to stage a war involving named monsters from Goblins, Lizardmen, and other races.
Still, luck hadn't abandoned Gelmut.
The appearance of the Orc Lord. This was completely unexpected but could be utilized.
A loyal Orc Lord to his commands.
It was like a fixed game, but he had to accept it.
When the Orc army defeated the Lizardmen and Goblins, the Orc Lord would be recognized as the new 'Demon King.'
The interfering Ogres were dealt with first.
With this, there were no more threats. The Treants were harmless unless they invaded their territory.
Everything was going according to plan!
Until now, he had feared the Demon Kings who controlled him, but now he was on the side of the controller.
It would be achieved soon. The birth of a Demon King loyal to his commands!
Gelmut hid his racing heart and explained the staged events...
In his mind, he clearly saw himself kneeling the Orc Lord.
The realization of his ambition was just around the corner.