On top of a peak near the Obsidian Valley, Hazard sat atop his undead demonic dragon, with Hezhna beside him, staring at the battlefield where two armies were about to clash.

"Three hundred thousand humans against two hundred thousand creatures of darkness? What do you think the outcome will be?"

With centuries of experience and countless battles in her mercenary days, Hezhna quickly analyzed the situation.

"Human forces excel in warfare with their numbers and advanced magic. Their coordination has always kept the dark forces from gaining the upper hand. But on the other side, there's Count Maximann, the infamous vampire. If Maximann disregards his own losses and sacrifices his main forces for this battle, the result is clear."

"Count Maximann... You seem to have complete trust in him!"

Hezhna simply lowered her head, but then she looked straight into Hazard's hollow eye sockets with a serious gaze.

"Who are you, really?"

Hearing that, Hazard averted his gaze from her and looked back at the battlefield, which was soon to be drenched in blood.

"So, you've finally figured it out."

Hezhna immediately activated her protective and escape spells, but she hesitated to make a move.

"You don't know Count Maximann. You have no clue about the Obsidian Valley! You belong to neither the Empire nor the Dark Faction. So, tell me—where are you from? Because I'm sure you're not from the North either!"

Hazard merely raised two bony fingers, and with a simple sound, all of Hezhna's spells were nullified. The overwhelming gravity forced her to the ground.

"Such pathetic mistakes... But surely, someone like you must have some guesses about my identity."

Hezhna gave a bloody smile.

"You're a Demon King! A rapidly growing, powerful being hunted across the entire continent! No kingdom tolerates self-proclaimed kings like you!"

Hazard nodded at her words.

"And what about the so-called heroes who hunt us?"

Hezhna hesitated for a moment.

"You mean the Adventurers' Guilds?"

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Hazard let out a sinister laugh, his shark-like white teeth clashing together.

"Did you know that all of them are possessed by the spirits of beings from another world? All of them! This land of yours is nothing but a battlefield for two greater factions to wage war!"

Hezhna fell silent. If what he said was true, it would explain the sudden support from nobles and powerful figures for the guilds and the mass enlistment of their ranks.

"That's a lie..."

"Then what do you make of my existence? Someone who has only lived in this world for a few months and has already reached the rank of Warlord?"

Hezhna shuddered upon realizing that the being before her was only a few months old.

"And it's all thanks to those foolish heroes who willingly threw themselves at me. And this battlefield before us!"

She watched as Hazard stepped closer to the battlefield.

"This will help me evolve even further!"

Hezhna remained silent. A being who could reach Warlord rank in mere months would surely reach the legendary ranks in no time. Countless thoughts ran through her mind, forcing her to consider various possibilities. She closed her eyes.

"How many of you are alive right now?"

Hazard glanced at his system window, checking the remaining numbers.

"Around 40,000. But you should know—perhaps only a three-digit number are at my level, and only a single-digit number above me."

Hezhna shivered upon hearing that there might be a thousand beings as strong as her. Conquering a kingdom would be as easy as drinking a glass of water for such a force.

"If... If we—"

"If you're about to say you want to serve me, then let me tell you—half of your people are already my absolute slaves."

Hazard casually created a spatial distortion behind him, opening a portal from which fifty undead witches emerged. They looked just as they had in life but were now of a higher rank than before.

Proud of his ability to enhance undead through his mastery of necromantic magic, Hazard looked at Hezhna.

"Tell me, what difference is there between you and them? They're even stronger than they were in life."

Freed from the gravity magic, Hezhna inspected one of the undead witches before turning back to Hazard.

"Then why have you kept us alive until now? Do you think I won't figure it out?"

Hazard smirked, impressed by her intelligence.

"Yes, that's exactly why. These witches—"

He tapped one of their heads with his skeletal finger.

"They're nothing but puppets. They lack your intelligence and memories. So tell me, how can I trust you to serve me for eternity?"

Hezhna frowned. The reason why people proudly became mercenary witches was to earn more money and use advanced magic beyond just ice magic, which their commanders often forbade them to practice. But the creature before her demanded eternal servitude—something she could never agree to. Yet, she wasn't in a position to refuse. The sight of her sisters' lifeless, doll-like bodies reminded her of what would happen if she did.

"So, what's your decision?"

"We sign a blood contract."

Hazard frowned but then approached her, purchasing a blank magical contract scroll. He inscribed a list of one-sided conditions before handing it to her and opening a portal.

"Once the contract is sealed in blood, wait for me at the castle entrance. Until then, enjoy the company of your new friends."

With a look of disgust, Hezhna left, accompanied by Hazard's undead puppets, leaving him alone with his undead dragon to observe the battlefield.

"Who do you think will win?"

The dragon, lacking the intelligence to analyze, simply rested in its usual draconic manner, but no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't fall asleep.

"Lazy."

Hazard then turned his gaze toward the valley before him, where the two armies had finally begun to move.