https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-727-Bair-Trembles-in-the-Intense-Turbulence-Storm/13677615/
Chapter 728: War of the Abyss
Beyond the Bronze Fortress, the Abyssal Legion had already seized control of both Sky and Earth, littering the battlefield with corpses of demons emitting black smoke. Winged fiends like Frothmaw and Kos Demons swarmed the heavens, blotting out Avernus’s crimson sky. On the ground, Giant Ox Demons, Frenzied Warrior Demons, and Demon Giants rampaged across the wasteland, surging forward in relentless waves, battering against the Hell Legion’s defensive line.
The Devils fought back with desperate fury. Chain Demon Warriors, clad in heavy armor, stood at the front, their bodies pulsing with the weave of magic as a solid forcefield wall erupted along the frontline—shattering the skulls of the first demons that collided with it.
Horned Demons and Spined Demons soared into the air, wielding steel forks, engaging in deadly aerial duels that sent winged demons spiraling down in bloody arcs. Meanwhile, Demonic mages in long robes hovered mid-air, chanting ancient, evil incantations. From the heavens, torrents of Hellfire rained down, exploding midair and igniting the demons caught in their path. Black smoke and screams of agony erupted through the demonic hordes.
Then, from afar, a lone horn blast echoed—a sound so pure and piercing it cut through the chaos. A frigid hurricane swept across the battlefield, chilling the Devils’ red-hot weapons and armor, causing them to hiss as frost crept over their surfaces, coating them in a thin, white layer.
“Those Hell vermin are weak! Crush them—for the great wrathful lord Koscherci!” The earth trembled. The Devils, panic-stricken, turned their eyes toward the horizon. There, in the distance, colossal Abyssal Beasts—each the size of a small mountain—lowed with thunderous voices. Riding atop them were Demon Frost Giants, brandishing spears and massive hammers, roaring in wild fury.
The lead Frost Giant, a chieftain clad in black heavy armor, stood tall. His body was massive, cracked with glowing eyes, his elbows and knees sprouting jagged, distorted spines. A thick aura of chaos radiated from him—undoubtedly corrupted by the Abyss. He wore a black eye patch, a jagged scar slicing across his face, and his remaining right eye burned with a flickering, sickly green flame.
Riding a Dragon Beast, he crushed a dozen low-level demons into pulp with a single swipe, then bellowed in rage:
“Move out of my way! You worthless trash! After all this time, you still haven’t broken through the Hell bastards’ defense? Now you force me, the mighty Kemlen, to intervene!”
This “mighty Kemlen” was a loyalist of Koscherci, having fallen into the Bottomless Abyss after the annihilation of the Giant Pantheon. For millennia, he had waged war across the Abyss, earning a fearsome name among its denizens.
The low-level demons huddled before the forcefield wall recoiled in terror. Under the crushing weight of rank and the dread of death, they scrambled aside, clearing a wide path.
“Hell scum! You are meant to tremble before the might of Koscherci’s army—then meet your end!” Kemlen raised his Giant Hammer and charged forward, roaring like a storm.
At the very moment he was about to crash into the defensive line, he swung the hammer with one hand—giving it his full strength. The blow struck the forcefield wall with a thunderous boom. Space fractured. A wave of freezing wind and chaotic fury exploded outward.
Boom!
A shockwave laced with hailstones shattered hundreds of demons and Devils into the air. The forcefield wall shattered instantly, breaking into a thousand shimmering spell fragments.
The Devil officer, his face grim and bloodied, let out a rasping roar:
“Quick! Stop that damned Demon Giant!”
“Stop him! We cannot let these Abyssal filth disrupt our line!”
Kemlen swung his hammer again, crushing three Devil soldiers into pulp. Cold wind swept through, turning their bodies into icy shards that scattered skyward. His Abyssal Beast smashed into the line, crushing a dozen Chain Demons into meat paste.
Dozens of Frost Giant cavalry followed, wielding war hammers and spears, raising dust clouds that intensified the biting cold of the wasteland. They charged like a jagged iron hammer, driving deep into the Hell Legion’s formation and tearing a massive gap in the once-tight defensive line.
With a single crushing blow, Kemlen shattered the Devil officer’s skull like a burst water bag. Blood sprayed in crimson blossoms. He stood in the gore, laughing wildly:
“The great Kemlen will crush everything! The entire Hell will belong to us Frost Giants—to our master, Koscherci!”
“Abyss—Long Live!”
“Praise Koscherci, our lord!”
The demons erupted in a frenzy of chaotic roars, now fully in control of the outer defensive line. The thousands of Devils who had once stood there were now nothing but blood-soaked debris, scattered across the field. The battlefield was littered with corpses, broken weapons, and shattered armor.
This was the nature of demons—chaos incarnate. Born not for life, but for mass slaughter and destruction. They were not beings of life force, but living disasters.
The second line of defense, in Hell’s second layer, was a river of molten lava. Magma spewed violently into the sky, and thick, deadly fumes blanketed the surface. Along the banks, the Demon Army stood on high alert, their massive siege engines arrayed in formation.
Low-level demons, driven mad, flapped their distorted wings like a dark storm cloud, attempting to cross the river from above. But the lava and poison smoke repelled them. Their bodies burned instantly, shrieking in agony as they fell like rain into the molten chasm—leaving behind only stinking black smoke.
Stronger demons roared and strained, muscles bulging as they flapped their wings with all their might, determined to break through. But a gravity spell descended like a hammer, crushing them midair and sending them plummeting into the lava.
Devils on the banks raised Hellish crossbows, aiming skyward. Arrows imbued with fire poured forth like a storm, raining down on the demons in the sky. In mere minutes, thousands fell—crushed, burned, or torn apart by the relentless assault.
The battlefield reeked of death. Foul black smoke choked the air, polluting the surroundings. But in the realm of Baator, this was nothing new. The Abyss had long since become a place of eternal decay. If such pollution reached the Material Realm, the land would remain barren for decades.
“For the Lord of the Nine Hells!”
“Stop them! Do not let these Abyssal scum breach the Bronze Fortress! Remember—Lord Bair is watching! Whoever earns battle merit shall ascend! But cowards, those who flee—they die! The Nine Hells will cast away such trash. They are fit only to become Hellworms!”
The Devil officer roared, brandishing his longsword, issuing death orders to his troops.
To punish one and warn the rest, he seized a tiny Devil engineer from a nearby run-down city, lifting him high into the air for all to see.
“S-sir, I don’t know anything! I was just following orders—assigned to guard the Bronze Fortress!” The small Devil shrieked, his voice trembling with terror.
He knew—now was not the time to admit fault.
The officer didn’t care. He didn’t care about motives, facts, or truth. He only needed a target to demonstrate his authority.
“Still lying? It’s because of traitors like you that these Abyssal scum grow so bold!”
He roared, his face twisted in fury.
“I have no patience for excuses!”
With one swift stroke, he severed the tiny Devil’s head. Blood sprayed across the ground as the body fell. The officer raised the head—eyes wide open, frozen in death—high above his head.
“See this? This is the fate of traitors! Lord Bair does not need useless fools. The Nine Hells do not need weak Devils. Want to become a high-ranking demon like me? Then fight! Fight with the demons! You too can achieve arrogant supremacy!”
“For the Nine Hells!”
“Long live Lord Bair!”
The Devils raised their weapons, shouting in unison. Their frenzy seemed genuine—but who could say how many of them were merely hiding their fear behind this mask?
“Look at them,” one demon sneered. “They rely on such crude tactics to hold their troops together. How fragile they are.”
“This time, Lord Koscherci has united with two Abyssal Lords. The invasion is unstoppable. If the Nine Hells fall, you—with your status in Koscherci’s eyes—could rise to become a Hell Lord.”
“Hahahaha! I say this Avernus is perfect for me!”
Kemlen laughed heartily at the flattery, his voice rough and booming.
The demons continued pouring toward the Devil line, falling from the sky in waves. Some even charged into the lava river, heedless of death, their bodies crackling and bursting like burning logs as they met their end.
If demons didn’t return to the Abyss after death, the entire moat would have been filled with their corpses.
“Enough,” Kemlen said, rising to his feet. His face twisted into a fierce grin as he stared toward the horizon. “This dull game is over.”
He roared:
“Bair, you pitiful Duke of Demons—come out, or I’ll annihilate your subordinates!”
With a single step, he scornfully stared at the lava moat.
“Hmph. Is this all you’ve got? This is supposed to stop me?”
The Frost Giant gripped his hammer, lifting it high. The runes etched into its surface flared to life, glowing with a faint blue light. A wave of bone-chilling cold surged forth, a hurricane howling around him, hurling hailstones and snowflakes in a storm of icy fury.
But these were no ordinary snowflakes. The hail and snow were a murky green—stained with a foul, viscous slime, as if soaked in the rot of the Abyss.
For millennia, these Frost Giants had fallen into the Abyss. This was the result of their rune magic fused with the endless chaos of the abyss.
Kemlen’s face twisted with rage. Veins bulged on his arms as he swung the hammer down with all his might.
Boom!
The earth trembled. The hammer sank deep into the ground, and a wave of chaotic ice spread outward from the impact, freezing the ground in an instant. The scorching lava moat froze solid, turning into blackened, molten rock. The hundreds of Devil soldiers at the front were encased in ice—cracks spiderwebbing across their bodies.
With a soft crack, they shattered into countless frozen fragments.
These were the most loyal, the bravest. But instead of ascension, they became the first cannon fodder.
Other Frost Giants followed suit, unleashing their icy might. The lava river froze, forming jagged bridges of blackened rock—paths for the demons’ advance.
“Beware!” the Devil officer shouted. “Their power is unnatural—frost magic!”
The Hell Legion reacted instantly. Demon mages emerged from the line, raising bone staves and chanting. Heat erupted around them, distorting the air, making the very atmosphere shiver with flame.
But it was too late.
Across the frozen river, black bridges of molten rock had already formed. Demons surged across, forming a mottled current, rushing toward the enemy bank.
The Hell Legion fought desperately, holding the lines, but the demons kept pouring through. Dozens fell into the lava, screaming as they burned. Magma erupted across the ground, carving craters into the earth.
The first line had fallen. The second line would not hold for long. The horizons were choked with demons—endless, unbroken waves.
“Stop struggling,” Kemlen roared. “The Bronze Fortress will fall. Bair—no, not even the Lord of the Nine Hells can save you now!”
The blizzard around him raged on. He charged across the frozen river, his Abyssal Beast tearing through the Hell Legion’s frontline, rampaging through their ranks.
Then—a dragon’s roar split the battlefield.
“Roar—!”
The sound carried a power so immense, so overwhelming, it shook the very fabric of Avernus—even the Demon Frost Giant felt its weight.
(End of Chapter)
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