"Lunaria? You came back already?" Tiathmet asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. Both sisters had been waging a relentless campaign, destroying villages of monsters and demons, and annihilating human settlements along the way. While they enslaved the monsters, they killed every human they encountered, collecting their souls as trophies.

Tiathmet rose from her seat and introduced the dark elves to her sister. "They are from the dark-elf village. They'll help us win this fight more easily," she said with a smile.

The dark elves glanced at Lunaria, scratching their heads in confusion. There was no doubt she was Tiathmet's twin sister, but despite being twins, they looked and behaved very differently. Lunaria's fierce demeanor and striking appearance contrasted sharply with Tiathmet's more composed and seductive presence.

"Help us? We're going to win anyway. We don't need anyone's help!" Lunaria retorted, her expression annoyed. To her, it felt like shaking hands with someone far beneath her in power and capability.

"Don't talk like that!" Tiathmet's voice rose, carrying a note of anger. "Our main enemy is humans. Other than that, we don't care about anyone. I want as few deaths as possible," she said with authoritative finality.

"Tch... okay," Lunaria replied, her voice dripping with dissatisfaction. She grabbed a nearby chair and sat down with a huff, turning her face away in frustration.

Serom watched the exchange intently, noting the tension between the sisters. Tiathmet's desire for strategic alliances clashed with Lunaria's disdain for perceived weakness. This discord within their ranks was something he could potentially exploit, but for now, he needed to stay focused.

Tiathmet turned back to Serom and walked forward, her elegant movements exuding a blend of authority and grace. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. A warm smile spread across her face, an attempt to reassure him. "Don't mind her," she said, her voice soothing. "Now, as you were saying, what do you want in return for your cooperation?"

Before the man she touched could respond, another voice cut in, hesitant and awkward. "Um... actually, I'm Serom. He's my comrade. Didn't I introduce myself earlier?" he said, his nervousness palpable.

Tiathmet's eyes widened slightly in realization, and she smacked her head lightly with a knowing smile. "Oh, I couldn't see properly!" she admitted, acknowledging her mistake.

"You can't even see this close? How are you going to fight?" Serom asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of anger.

Before the situation could escalate further, another succubus in the room shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. "Shut your damn mouths! It's your fault for wearing the same outfits. The only thing Mistress can't see is anyone's face!" Her anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver of fear through everyone present.

The outburst silenced the room, and Serom felt the weight of the succubus's words. She was right. Due to a traumatic incident in their childhood, both Tiathmet and Lunaria were unable to see people's faces except each other. Instead of faces, they saw white masks with holes for eyes and mouths. These masks changed expressions to reflect the emotions of the person in front of them—smiling faces for neutral states, and expressions of anger or fear as emotions shifted.

This unique affliction had been caused by humans, leaving an indelible mark on the twins' psyches. As a result, Tiathmet and Lunaria harbored a deep, abiding hatred for humanity. Their enmity was so intense that they sought the complete extinction of the human race.

This burning hatred fueled their desire to build an immense army, aiming to rise to the level of a demon king to achieve their goal. Their campaign of destruction and enslavement was driven by this singular purpose.

Serom took a deep breath, steadying himself. The room was thick with tension, but he couldn't afford to falter now. Without delving into the delicate matter of Tiathmet's affliction, he pressed on. "What I want is to become the king myself. After you defeat my village, make me their new king. You know that after you destroy the village, you gain some new slaves and that's it."

Tiathmet's eyes narrowed slightly, her interest piqued. Serom continued, his voice dripping with ambition. "Other than that, you never actually gain anything but more work—preparing food for new slaves and managing them. But if I become the king, I'll handle everything. I'll provide you with a steady supply of soldiers every year, along with food, weapons, clothes, treasures, and more. Essentially, I'll be the king in name only; everything will be under your control," he explained, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he laid out his nefarious plan.

Tiathmet regarded Serom with a mix of curiosity and calculation. Her eyes flickered as she weighed his proposal, considering the potential benefits and risks. Lunaria, sitting nearby, scoffed loudly, clearly unimpressed by Serom's audacity. Tiathmet raised a hand to silence her sister, her gaze never leaving Serom's.

Serom felt the intensity of her scrutiny, but he remained steadfast, meeting her eyes with a confidence that belied the turmoil inside him. This was his chance to secure power and finally surpass his older brother, So he couldn't afford to show any weakness.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

After a tense moment, Tiathmet finally spoke, her voice carrying a weight of finality. "Very well," she said, her tone firm and resolute. "If you deliver on your promise, you will be the next king. But cross me, and the consequences will be dire."

The air in the room seemed to thicken even further, the weight of the pact settling over everyone present. Serom's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of relief and apprehension coursing through him.

Serom nodded, a mixture of relief and determination flooding through him. The die was cast, and now, all that remained was to see if he could navigate the treacherous path ahead.

After that, they meticulously discussed and documented every demand of both parties. As the contract was sealed, Serom divulged everything he knew. He spoke of their main trump card: the mysterious blindfold and their alliance with Scarlett, a figure shrouded in intrigue. Hearing all this, even Lunaria, initially skeptical, realized it was the right decision to ally with these dark elves. The more they listened, the more their eyes widened at the depth of the dark elves' strategic planning. Astonishment washed over them as they comprehended the intricacies of the dark-elves' schemes.

Tiathmet, visibly impressed, mused aloud, "A mysterious blindfold and a woman who looks like a succubus but calls herself a dragonoid," her words echoed in the room, a mix of curiosity and admiration in her tone.

"I consider that you shouldn't underestimate her. She's powerful beyond imagination," Serom warned, his voice grave and serious.

Tiathmet rose gracefully and placed her book back on the shelf that lined the wall. With her back to the room, she began speaking in a heavy, authoritative voice that left no room for dissent. "Since they planned to attack us one week later, we will begin our assault tomorrow!" she declared, her voice resonating with finality. It was clear to everyone present that the war had officially begun.

Serom felt a shiver run down his spine. The room, thick with anticipation and resolve, seemed to pulse with a newfound energy. The dark elves around him, once skeptical and wary, now looked at him with a mix of respect and expectation. He had secured their alliance, but now he had to prove his worth.

Lunaria, despite her initial disdain, now studied Serom with a grudging respect. "Tomorrow, then," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, as if mentally preparing for the coming conflict.

Tiathmet turned back to face the room, her eyes alight with a fierce determination. "Prepare yourselves. We move at dawn. This is our chance to strike a decisive blow. We will show them the true power of our alliance," she commanded.

Serom felt a surge of adrenaline. This was it—the moment they had all been preparing for. He glanced around at his comrades, their faces set with grim determination. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but they were ready to face it head-on.

As the meeting concluded, the room buzzed with activity. Plans were put into motion, and preparations began in earnest. Serom watched as his comrades moved with purpose, their resolve mirrored in his own heart. He knew the days ahead would test them all, but he was ready to meet the challenge.

The war had begun, and there was no turning back.

THE VERY NEXT DAY IN THE DARK ELF VILLAGE :

"Chief!... Chief!" A loud, desperate voice echoed through the tree house just as a middle-aged elf man dashed inside. He was panting heavily, covered in sweat and terror, his eyes wide with fear.

"Huff... A disaster has befallen us!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling.

"What happened?" the chief asked, rising slightly from his stone throne, his brow furrowing in concern.

"The succubi... they've already started attacking! Our army is in peril. I don't know how, but they know all our secret locations and bases. They are attacking nonstop, and our troops are already beginning to lose," the elf said, his body trembling with fear.

"What?!" The chief sprang up from his throne, shock and disbelief etched across his face.

"Yes, my lord. Their army, made of slaves... they are very different. They have emotions and even communicate, but they are still killing everyone mercilessly. Even when their limbs are broken or their arms and legs are cut off, unless they die, they fight to the end!" he explained, his voice rising in panic. "It's like they are zombies with emotions!"

The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of the news crashing down on everyone present. Terror and fear spread like wildfire, but before they could even process the information, another casualty arrived.

A female dark elf burst into the room, her face a mask of horror. "Chief... Chief! The storage got burned! Almost all of our supplies are gone!" she cried, her voice ringing through everyone's ears like a death knell.

"What? How?" The chief's jaw dropped, and a wave of despair washed over him and everyone in the room. The hope of victory seemed to slip further from their grasp."Ser still hasn't returned yet, Don't tell me he got into fight too?" He thought.

Panic set in, the room filling with whispers of dread and hopelessness. The realization of their dire situation was sinking in fast. The chief, trying to regain control, raised his hand to silence the murmurs.

"We have no choice but to fight," he declared, his voice firm despite the fear in his eyes. "Gather everyone who can hold a weapon. We must defend our home with everything we have."

The middle-aged elf nodded, though his hands were still shaking. "Yes, my lord," he replied, before rushing out to relay the orders.

The chief turned to the female dark elf, his expression hardening. "Ensure the wounded are cared for and gather what supplies we have left. We need to fortify our defenses," he commanded.

She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes, and hurried out to carry out his orders.

As the reality of their situation settled over them, the chief clenched his fists. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and now, out of supplies. But they still had their resolve. They would fight for their home, for their people, and for survival.

The tree house, usually a place of peace and refuge, now felt like the heart of a brewing storm. The air was thick with tension, the impending clash between hope and despair palpable. The battle had begun, and there was no turning back.

Before he left the tree house, the chief turned back, his gaze settling on one of his most trusted warriors. "Augustus, you know what you have to do, right?" he said, his voice heavy with the weight of their dire situation. It was clear that all hopes now rested on Augustus's shoulders.

Augustus(Karl ruprect Kroenen), who was kneeling and bowing deeply, nodded slightly, his expression resolute. Before the chief could say another word, Augustus surged to his feet and rushed out of the house. His elegant movements through the trees made his speed seem almost supernatural, faster and faster with each leap and bound.

He jumped from branch to branch with precision, his mind focused on his urgent mission. He was heading towards Scarlett's village, Dreadhaven, the last beacon of hope for their people. As he raced through the forest, he muttered to himself, "Now, you are our only remaining hope, Scarlett Nova."