On the endless land carpeted by knee-high green blades of grass, an army marched unseen, following the lead of two men. One human, one clay man—one big, one small. As the wind graced their bodies, the peaceful silence between them was broken when Eve opened his mouth.

“What do you think about eating humans?”

“Huh?” Kurgos stumbled. “Sorry Eve, but I'm not a cannibal.”

Eve paused, shaking his head. “Let me rephrase that, if a tiger ate someone in front of you, would you care?” He asked, looking at the blindfolded tall man. He was now one and a half feet tall, while the man was more than four times his height.

“If I know them, then maybe,” Kurgos nodded after giving it a thought. “It’ll depend on who they are, how close we were, how useful they—”

Eve coughed. “That's enough,” he grinned. As they marched westward, silence consumed their space. The thirty thousand clay soldiers behind them followed silently, barely making the grass sway. On the other hand, Lucky—who was half of Eve's height—was glued to Kurgos' side, acting as a guide.

‘If Kurgos' information is still accurate, there's only a night of travel left before we reach a small village,’ Eve mused. Looking back at the blindfolded man, being guided by Lucky, Eve spoke.

“We'll be killing all the people there, your job is to support the army using your Telekinesis.”

Kurgos nodded. Truth be told, his fingers were itching. Telekinesis was the first skill he learned under Eve's teaching, and unlike magic using mana, he felt no rejection whatsoever. After all, he was using his own mental prowess.

“Let's go, we still have a long road ahead of us,” Eve sighed.

After revising their plan to invade humanity, they spent three days preparing their tactics and finally, spent another week marching to the west. Eve left ten thousand clay soldiers in the forest to develop it, hoping that the clay soldiers would evolve in the process. He knew it was wishing for gold in front of a dry well, but he was willing to try.

‘Each clay soldier has enough strength, thirty thousand shouldn't come short.’

According to Kurgos, humans developed a ranking system for their “heroes.” The lowest would be the “Bronze” rank, which was further divided into three tiers—Low, Middle, and High.

‘Kurgos told me that when we fought, he deteriorated to a mere low bronze,’ Eve pondered. ‘Although he also mentioned that his magic was a low silver level, the next rank after Bronze.’

He looked down, looking at his hands as he clenched them.

‘Judging by that, each Clay Soldier should be around low bronze. I'll put myself in high bronze for now.’

Though felt bitter at being low-ranked, he didn't want to overestimate himself. He felt Kurgos' dark magic for a brief moment, and although [Dark Arts: Erasure] didn't catch him, he felt his whole soul screaming to flee.

‘But still,’ Eve huffed, crossing his arms. ‘I should be able to last against the silver ranks.’

Clay men weren't known for anything, they were weak and weren't well documented. After training his clay soldiers while also honing his body, he finally discovered something clay men were good at—agility. Their bodies were flexible, their feet were nimble, and most of all, they were tricky to kill if you didn't destroy their head or behead them.

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‘If I didn't feel excruciating pain, I would've tried dissecting my own body.’

Alas, he didn't get that far.

After spending the night in the open fields and marching for the whole morning, Eve finally saw human settlement over yonder. As Kurgos said, the village was small, barely having a dozen houses.

“The villages should be more common from here on out,” Kurgos remarked after hearing the news.

Pleased, Eve told his army to split into four parts, surrounding the village and preventing any fish from slipping past the net.

“You, go lead the western army,” Eve pointed at Lucky, who knelt but didn't say a word.

“Kurgos, is there anything we should watch out for?” Eve asked while waiting for his soldiers to encircle their prey. He and Kurgos would lead the army on the east side of the village.

“A village shouldn't be protected by heroes,” Kurgos shrugged. “But even if there's heroes in the village, they shouldn't be too powerful. At most, high bronze level.”

“Alright,” Eve nodded. Seconds ticked, and when the sun stepped on the highest point in the sky, Eve dashed forward!

“CHAAARGE!”

Cutting through the air like a flying sword, Eve swiftly reached the wooden fence around the village. Raising his sword—CRASH!

Startled, a nearby villager turned, only to see a sword pouncing at his neck. With a ruthless slash, Eve found his stone sword stuck in the middle of the man's neck.

“A-AAAH!!! M-Murder!!” A woman shrieked, running away. Putting his foot on the man's neck as they fell on the ground, Eve pulled out his sword just in time for Lucky to enter his view.

“KILL EVERYONE!”

Lucky charged forward, chasing after the running woman with a spear in hand. Looking around, Eve searched for anyone holding a weapon, but all he saw were startled fish flopping about on the net.

“Hmph,” stepping off of the man, he tore down his next victim.

+

Yeula frowned, tapping her pen on the table.

“The new Demon Lord is a… ‘clay man’?”

Miguel laughed, slapping his thighs while leaning on the sofa inside Yeula’s office. Currently, they are on the top floor of the Sapphire’s Grand Tower.

“Ridiculous, isn't it?” He looked at the albino woman. “But it's true. One of my students witnessed the massacre himself.”

Yeula frowned, placing her elbows atop her desk while clasping her hands. “First, tell me how bad the damage was.”

Miguel sighed, tossing a scroll on Yeula's desk. Yeula didn't touch it.

“The support team was three days late. By then, the small villages located on the kingdom’s east were ravaged,” Miguel clicked his tongue. “Nine villages were destroyed in the last three days.”

“Nine villages,” Yeula closed her eyes, resting her forehead on top of her hands. “What a headache,” she groaned.

Miguel shrugged, it wasn't his problem, and he was terrible with politics. “Do your best.”

“Tsk,” Yeula glared at him. “Tell me what a ‘clay man’ is.”

Miguel smirked. “According to my student, it's literally a living clay in the shape of a man, and there are thousands of them.”

He hummed after a pause, rubbing his chin while gazing at the ceiling. “They can't use magic, it seems, but they're physically more powerful than your average adult.”

Yeula narrowed her eyes. “Are they weak to magic? Or are they immune?”

Miguel waved his hand, “They're not weak to magic, but certainly not immune. My student killed dozens of them before running away. Their head is their weakness, he said.”

“What rank?” Yeula nodded.

“Probably around high bronze, maybe low silver,” Miguel guessed. “My student… Well, is only good at staring at books.”

Yeula frowned, “What's your student's rank? If he can't even tell the difference between bronze and silver ranks, he should pray every day he's outside,” she scowled.

Miguel laughed, “he's just an intermediate bronze, but his fire magic should be between high bronze and low silver. Go easy on the kid.”

“The world isn't easy,” Yeula scoffed. “Are you free for an expedition?”

Miguel looked at Yeula. “Are you crazy? Sending me to deal with maggots?” He looked at Yeula, eyes wide full of questions.

“Better safe than sorry. I don't want a Demon Lord evolving into a Demon King, not after that damned Holy War,” Yeula seethed on her chair, the veins on her hands bulging.

Miguel shook his head. “Alright, I get it. But I can't go out, there's barely any manpower in the dungeons. I'll send some silver ranks to deal with that clay man.”

Yeula sighed. “Can't you spare a gold rank?”

“No,” Miguel shook his head. “Unless you want the underworld monsters adding to your problems,” he snickered.

“Fine,” Yeula gritted her teeth. “If worse comes to worse, I'll go there myself.”

Miguel hummed. “If that clay man is, as you said, a candidate for a Demon King, I'll go out. Don't risk your life, Ela.”

Yeula scowled, dismissing the man from her office.

“Cover your mouth, Ela~” Miguel cackled as he left, earning him another glare from the woman.

“...”

Looking at the scroll on her desk, Yeula sighed, slowly unrolling it. Reading the contents, she couldn't help but frown.

“Clay Men, the biggest is around two feet tall while the rest is half of that… that should be the Demon Lord,” Yeula rubbed her thumb.

“Extreme strength, extreme speed, physical immunity, infinite stamina, use of weapons and armor, use of war tactics, former Demonic General Kurgos Lorenz, ‘weird magic’… goodness, what kind of report is this?”

Yeula groaned, putting the scroll down and burying her face in her hands.

“What a shit hole,” she growled. “Master should've fucked that rotten Kurgos!”

FLICKER—suddenly, the lights went out. Plunged into darkness, she sighed in relief and withdrew her mana.

‘When will I be freed from paperwork?’ She couldn't help but daydream for a while.

+

Meanwhile, Eve was counting his soldiers back at Yuka Forest with the biggest frown he could muster.

“I didn't notice it during the raid,” he mumbled. “But I lost a hundred clay soldiers.”

“Hmm?” Kurgos turned his head at Eve. “Can't you just make more?”

Eve snapped his head at the man, barely calming his mood. “No, that's the problem.”