*Crack crack*

The wing cracked and almost fell off the body of the gargoyle after taking the hit from Dan's mace.

*CRAAAAACH*

"Robert, its balance is off, go for the neck," I shouted as I threw my axe at the gargoyle's nape.

"On it," Robert said as he followed my axe, striking at the cracks that had just formed on the demon's neck.

*Screee*

As the gargoyle screeched, Dan struck his mace upon the cracked neck of the gargoyle, shattering it entirely.

"Good job, team," I said, nodding at my new friends with whom I had just managed to kill two gargoyles.

***

"Their performance isn't as horrible as I imagined; that trio over there especially is performing pretty decently," my grandson said. Of course, I agreed with what he was saying. One thing I did find peculiar was that the young man leading the group was the same person who had caused quite the scene a few days ago after his appearance following the beast massacre.

"Quite an exemplary performance indeed, to only get out of battle with one injured, when fighting gargoyles without aether. Keep an eye out for that young man; he could be useful to you," I said to Arthur as I observed the rest of the battlefield, moving my attention towards the rest of the irregulars.

"Not too bad, I would say. They will certainly work as excellent meat shields if they can keep up this performance," Arthur said, annoying me for a moment, and I did not hide it.

"Child, come here," I gestured for the boy to come to my side.

*Slap*

"We may be using them as meat shields, but remember, the moment they were flying my banner, they became akin to my own children. You better learn to respect their dignity as soldiers; that is if you ever wish to lead an army of your own. A general is only as strong as his soldiers. You or I alone cannot change the flow of battle, no matter how strong we become, no matter how strong my Malzorath gets. If we have to face an army the size we are about to, this glaive of mine becomes but a stick striking at a tsunami," I said as I raised my glaive, bringing it to Arthur's eye level.

"I will make sure not to repeat this mistake, Grandfather Sir," Arthur said, clearly quite annoyed by the slap and my words, but that could not be helped; he was at that age where things like this would annoy him.

"Good, now move back and observe closely how these troops that have served me for a decade operate. Maybe you can grasp something," I said as my son, Alfred, approached me slowly on his horse, leaving his officers for a second.

"Father, was it really necessary to slap him?" he asked me, and I had a feeling it would get to this. Why could this fool never understand why I was so harsh? I, to this day, don't quite understand.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You idiot, do you think pampering a kid will make him into a great general? Until the boy learns how to be a proper general, there is no hope of him surviving in this world after the two of us inevitably pass here. How hard is it for you to understand that? I only have so many opportunities to engrave into him everything that I know, so you better learn to act like a proper father for once and bring your arrogant son back to earth. Once we get to the front line, for the purpose of his development, I will be sending him to act as a foot soldier. You remember that kid from three days ago, the one who appeared mysteriously from within the forest? Arthur will be in the same unit as him," I said, turning my son away, not giving Alfred a chance to retort.

"Alfred, if that kid is lucky enough to survive the forest, he will survive this battle. If not, well, we will die here anyway," I said, not looking at my son, but I could imagine the pained look on his face. This idiot had been fighting with me from the battlefields in the east against Ironvale for decades now, so I am sure he understood what I was talking about. By now, the idiot had developed the instinct of a great general. Had I passed naturally, he would have inherited my title as the Western Wall, but fate seemed to have other plans.

"The gargoyles have been cleared, Sir," my vice commander said to me while I stood there, spaced out.

"Right, my apologies, Tor. I spaced out for a second," I said to him.

"I understand, Sir. I have taken care of those two since they were children, so I can understand how you feel, Sir," Tor said.

"Right, it's funny how you know them better than I do, isn't it,

Tor?" I replied with a laugh as my horse moved forward.

"GOOD JOB, EVERYONE! I AM GLAD TO SEE THERE ARE NO CASUALTIES. WE WILL REST HERE FOR AN HOUR. THE MEDICAL UNIT WILL PROVIDE TEMPORARY MEDICAL CARE FOR ALL THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN INJURED. ALL OF YOU SHOULD FEEL PROUD OF YOURSELVES FOR HAVING TAKEN DOWN A HUNDRED GARGOYLES WITHOUT ANY HELP FROM THE SENIOR OFFICERS," I shouted loudly enough to make sure everyone could hear what I was saying.

"Whooooooo!"

"HOWEVER," I shouted, loudly interrupting their cheers, "YOU MUST ALSO KNOW TO PRACTICE HUMILITY. WHILE A GREAT FEAT, THIS WAS ONLY A SMALL DETACHMENT OF INJURED GARGOYLES THAT HAD MADE IT PAST THE SOUTHWESTERN DEFENSE LINE. ONCE WE GET TO THE MAIN FRONT, THERE WILL BE THOUSANDS, THOUSANDS OF EQUALLY, IF NOT STRONGER, DEMONS, EACH ONE TRYING TO TAKE YOUR AND MY HEADS. SO KEEP YOUR HEART, BUT YOUR MIND MUST ALWAYS REMAIN CALM. YOU MAY NOW REST," I said as I joined my officers, turning away from the soldiers, who now had a great deal of mixed emotions. They were indeed all fired up, but after I brought them back to reality, they had become much calmer.

"Grandfather, why did you stop them from celebrating to their hearts' content?" Arthur asked as he approached me.

"If I had let such a small skirmish get to the soldiers' heads, they would start to underestimate the demons, especially the irregulars and newer officers, who had never faced the terror of demons for themselves. As such, if they were to act overconfidently on the battlefield, they would not only be a danger to themselves but also to their fellow soldiers. Now, go talk to your father; he has something to say to you," I said, patting Arthur on his back, sending him away.

"Why not demote him yourself, Sir?" Tor asked me, his long red hair and red eyes still glued onto the trees, alert at all times for potential attacks.

"If I were to demote him myself, he would take it out on the soldiers, as he would think I am demoting him for his error earlier. But it would be different if his own father did it; he would think that it was his father's attempt to teach him what it was like on a real battlefield. That is how young children operate, Tor. They hold their fathers in higher esteem than their grandfathers, not to say I think of that as right or wrong. I have spent far too little time with either my father, grandfather, son, or grandson to know how that felt," I said to Tor as I got off my horse, who for a moment had a shocked look on his face as he got down and followed behind me.