Baret's subordinates, three distinct and formidable demons, each possessed high-tier powers. The only female demon, Kaelith, slithered to Carlo's side like a serpent, her crimson tongue flicking across his face.

"Mid-tier strength, capable of easily slaying Gaz. What a robust and delectable body you have..."

Carlo seized her by the throat, his cold gaze fixed intently on Kaelith. "Keep your distance, or you'll regret it."

Kaelith merely laughed, unfazed. "I won't be so easily killed by you, young demon..."

"Alright, you can indulge a little longer. Lord Baret needs his rest." Satisfied with the "harmonious" atmosphere, Baret yawned and walked deeper into the cave.

Carlo shot a cold glance at the group before moving to sit by the lava, which had once been Gaz's territory but was now claimed by him.

With his eyes closed, he faintly heard Nemos whispering like a mouse, discussing something quietly with the three demons. He must have shared his true name with Baret, as mocking laughter erupted in his direction.

Feigning ignorance, Carlo skillfully disguised himself as a newly reborn demon who had just lost his true name, filled with rage and indifference.

True name? Ha! Carlo sneered inwardly; he would make Baret pay for this.

Less than half a day had passed in the cave when Baret reappeared before him.

"Are you all ready?" Baret's smile was sinister, laced with anticipation and excitement. "I can hardly wait."

Kaelith and the others displayed respectful expressions, and Carlo stood as well. Baret led the way out of the cave, and they all followed.

The massive tendrils of bloodthirsty vines closed behind them. Carlo looked up at the sky; the fifth blood moon was slowly descending.

Three days left, he silently counted.

Under Baret's lead, they swiftly approached the Blood Fortress, a structure exuding an aura of terror and brutality, finally revealing itself to Carlo.

The fortress resembled a ghastly head; its entrance was the mouth, where two high-tier demons lounged lazily at the gate.

Carlo's gaze lingered on them, noting their uniform armor adorned with bone spikes, identical to the hunting party that had descended from the dragon that day.

"Those are Lord Anros's private troops," Nemos hissed in his ear. "I'm surprised you managed to escape their pursuit."

"What do you mean?" Carlo frowned.

Nemos slowed his pace, creating distance from the others. "This fortress is under Lord Anros's control; he has a duty to participate in the blood war. He needs fodder..." Nemos's hollow gaze swept over Carlo. "Like you, a lowly demon born from the Abyss, you are the best kind of cannon fodder..."

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Carlo quickly understood the implication.

In the Abyss, demons born from the seas were referred to as lowly demons because they lacked the authentic demonic bloodline. Even if awakened later, they were often an incomprehensible mix.

Lowly demons occupied the lowest class in the Abyss, despised by powerful primal beings. Their fates typically included being cannon fodder in blood wars, slaves, goods, or food.

Demon lords responsible for blood wars favored lowly demon warriors because they cost nothing in disaster coins; they merely needed to expend some effort to capture a batch from beyond the Abyss periodically. Lowly demons were essential consumables in blood wars, the flesh and bones on which the powerful stood, cast aside as disposable pawns.

Yet, lowly demons were not entirely without opportunities; those who survived multiple blood wars and awakened powerful bloodline talents could catch the eye of high-tier demons. However, the odds were minuscule—perhaps one or two lucky souls among a hundred thousand lowly demons.

In the end, Nemos whispered furtively, "It’s said that Lord Baret was also born a lowly demon. He has survived over five blood wars; it’s truly remarkable..."

Nemos's tone was laced with respect, mockery, and a touch of pathetic superiority.

Carlo felt Baret slightly turn his head, and in an instant, Nemos vanished from sight.

Once inside the Blood Fortress, Kaelith and the others split from Baret. It seemed they had coordinated this beforehand, adhering to some unspoken agreement.

"We still need to gather some essential supplies..." Baret's words seemed directed at Carlo, yet his gaze flickered subtly towards Nemos.

Nemos, who had just shown a hint of disrespect to Baret, was now trembling with fear, ingratiatingly approaching him.

"Respected Lord Baret, after this blood war, you should be able to ascend to mid-tier leader status. What an enviable and powerful talent..."

Baret chuckled, casually pulling a pouch of grubs from Nemos’s body and playing with it tenderly, as if handling a pet.

"You will have your day too, my dear little worm..."

Baret shoved the grubs back into Nemos’s body, patting his shoulder lightly as Nemos forced a grotesque smile.

The Blood Fortress was teeming with demons, each more bizarre than the last. Some had four sharp horns and protruding fangs but no eyes; others were thin as reeds, with elongated spines and massive heads; some bore lion heads, horse bodies, and cow hooves, a complete amalgamation of various beasts...

Most demons were incredibly hideous, but perhaps Carlo still retained a human aesthetic and couldn't appreciate them.

Baret led Carlo and Nemos around two corners to a dimly lit shop, where a gnome-like demon greeted them enthusiastically.

"Lord Baret..."

This demon was only a low-tier demon, but his disdainful gaze towards Nemos and Carlo was apparent; he only fawned over Baret.

"I need to see Ephelos for some items..."

"Lord Ephelos is not here; I can provide you with the same services..."

"Get lost." Baret casually kicked the small demon aside and strode in.

Upon reaching the back of the shop, Carlo spotted a small mound of flesh exuding a rancid odor, as if countless rotting corpses were piled together.

Baret approached the mound directly.

"Ephelos, my dear friend, why don’t you come up and greet an old friend?"

The mound of flesh stirred slightly, letting out a loud fart that filled the room with an unbearable stench, reminiscent of boiling rotten rats, making one gag.

"I can't take it anymore..." Nemos complained, darting out as a swarm of insects.

A soft, slow voice reached Carlo's ear. "Oh, Baret. Why are you still alive after the blood war..."

Baret seemed unfazed, chuckling as he casually picked up a small object resembling a snuff box from before the mound, inhaling its contents, a look of ecstasy crossing his face.

"Damn you, Baret, put that down... you bloodsucking worm, rotten maggot... why don’t you let the guillotine chop you into pulp..."

The mound roared in anger, its blubbery body quaking as if what Baret held was incredibly important to it.

"Why don’t you give it a try?" Baret offered the snuff box to Carlo, smiling. "You’ll come to love this aroma."

Carlo stared at the ancient box, through which swirling gray mist could be seen, accompanied by the anguished cries of countless souls—those were the wails of the damned.

This was a snuff box filled with souls.