image [https://i.imgur.com/eY2gF5l.png]

Within the throne room of Hell Fire Citadel, Arbious sat upon his infernal throne, basking in his glorious divine form.

The throne itself loomed magnificently within the citadel, a colossal seat befitting his immense presence as a Demon God. Intricate runes, meticulously carved into the stone, blazed with vibrant crimson hues, intensifying his powers as long as he remained upon it. This magnificent throne bestowed additional abilities upon those who claimed it.

Firstly, it granted dominion over all demons, regardless of their strength, enabling him to exert absolute control. Secondly, it bestowed a unique skill known as the Authority of Hell, a power capable of manipulating the very landscapes of Hell itself, bending it to his will.

As Alpos entered the throne room, Arbious's colossal eye fixed upon him, casting a commanding gaze as Alpos approached with his elite guard. Arbious pondered the reason for his presence, while Alpos and his retinue bowed their heads in deference, awaiting Arbious's command.

"Rise," Arbious commanded.

Alpos, and he alone, lifted his head.

"You let my dragon die..." Arbious spoke, his voice resonating with disappointment as he towered above the demons from his throne.

"I apologize, my lord! We acted based on the available information and the urgency of the situation," Alpos quickly responded, his tone filled with remorse.

"No apologies are necessary," Arbious replied, his voice softening. "The dragon was undead, after all. I can resurrect it at a later time."

Alpos looked puzzled as he asked, "You can revive the fallen undead dragon?"

Alpos let out a faint sigh of relief, but Arbious continued with a hint of concern in his voice. "Indeed, as it is undead, I possess the ability to raise it once more to serve our cause. But because of your actions, the skull itself has been damaged beyond magical repair. The dragon will bear the scars and be looked down upon." Arbious explained.

Feeling the pressure of his failure, Alpos's voice cracked as he posed a question to his master. "What can I do to make things right?"

"I need you to dispatch your subordinates to collect the dragon's bones so that I may perform the ritual."

Alpos nodded and replied, "I will see to it immediately, my lord."

"With that matter addressed, I must admit that it was my own shortcomings that prevented me from bestowing a favor upon the dragon. Had I done so, it might have been better equipped to defend itself," Arbious lamented.

"My lord, please do not blame yourself. The fault lies with my rash actions," Alpos reassured him, bowing his head in remorse.

As Arbious gazed down upon Alpos from his throne, who was obediently following his orders, he decided to praise him, recognizing his loyalty and dedication. "I see great potential in both the dragon and in you, Alpos," Arbious stated, a note of encouragement in his voice.

Alpos beamed with joy upon hearing those words. "Thank you, my lord. I will do everything in my power to fulfill your expectations."

"As for a rundown of what you've been up to during my absence, mind filling me in?" Arbious inquired, eager to catch up on recent developments.

"Of course," Alpos replied, dismissing his guards to allow for a more private conversation.

"Since your departure, we have successfully completed the construction of the demon pits, enabling us to birth more imps. Our army is growing rapidly in numbers," Alpos began, his voice filled with pride. "Additionally, we have made progress with the hellfire forge, initiating the production of infernal siege craft that proved instrumental in both defending the citadel and launching offensives against the elven lands. The forge is a vital asset, but we have encountered difficulties in its operation as most demons refuse to work there."

"Refuse?" Arbious questioned.

"I apologize, my lord, but it is true. The harsh conditions of the forge, the intricate rune carvings, and the intense heat ... It's difficult labor with terrible working conditions for us demons and we consider it a daunting task," Alpos explained.

"It's hell! Are you kidding me?!" Arbious exclaimed, unable to comprehend their unwillingness. "Are they expecting luxurious working conditions? Do they want some sort of demon workers' union for the forge?"

"A workers' union?" Alpos looked perplexed.

"Forget it," Arbious dismissed the idea. "So, the demons refuse to work. Fine, we are a superior race, after all. But someone needs to oversee the forge's operation. What measures have you taken to maintain its functionality?"

"We have employed the undead goblins you provided, but unfortunately, many of them have perished in the fires or encountered accidents within the forge. As of now, the forge is offline," Alpos reported with a hint of regret.

"If we've exhausted our supply of undead... Then I have an excellent idea," Arbious declared, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"What is your idea, oh great one? The wise eye of darkness, the bringer of chaos?" Alpos inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Enough with the formalities, we're alone," Arbious responded, adopting a more casual tone. "My idea is to raise the fallen human knights as undead and compel them to work within the forges."

"A brilliant idea, my lord! In fact, I had considered suggesting the very same," Alpos exclaimed, his excitement evident.

"And yet I sense you have more to say," Arbious remarked, detecting a hint of hesitation in Alpos' demeanor.

"My lord, I must inform you that due to our extensive use of siege weapons, the corpses available for reanimation have been largely incinerated. because of that, any remains that we come across will only provide a temporary solution," Alpos confessed, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"We shall proceed with this plan for the time being, while we search for a more sustainable alternative," Arbious decided, acknowledging the limitations of their current approach.

"My lord, if I may suggest an idea," Alpos spoke up, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "Why not utilize the elves we have enslaved as workers in the hellfire forge?"

Mila's uncle... He's in our custody... if he is alive that is...

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

"How many elves did you manage to gather together?" Arbious inquired, eager to assess the strength of his enslaved workforce.

"Roughly five thousand elves have survived the siege, my lord. Unfortunately, around two hundred of them met their demise due to torture in our prisons."

"Tortured? Who gave such an order?" Arbious asked, his voice stern and disapproving.

"I did, my lord," Alpos admitted, his gaze respectfully lowered.

"The elves are not to be tortured, Alpos. Do I make myself clear?" Arbious emphasized, ensuring he understood the gravity of the matter.

"My lord? May I ask why?"

"Rather than questioning my decisions, I have another task for you," Arbious redirected, his voice firm yet composed.

Alpos leaned in attentively, awaiting further instructions.

"I need you to locate a man based on the information I am about to provide. He is the uncle of a girl named Mila. Find him and bring him before me as soon as possible, provided he is within our prison," Arbious commanded, presenting a new objective.

"Yes, my lord. Consider it done," Alpos affirmed, acknowledging the task assigned to him.

"As for the corpses of the elves who suffered a tragic fate due to torture, have you preserved them?" Arbious inquired, shifting the focus back to the fallen elves.

"Yes, my lord. The corpses have been kept and are ready for reanimation as zombies," Alpos informed Arbious, his response prompt and efficient.

"Very good. Have those corpses brought to the courtyard," Arbious instructed, envisioning their potential use in their dark endeavors.

"If I can find Mila's uncle then I'll return him to her... But I doubt he's here," Arbious thought to himself, considering the situation.

With a wave of his hand, Arbious conjured an enormous mirror made of flames, allowing him to observe the surroundings of the Hell Fire Citadel.

"My lord? What are you doing?" Alpos inquired, curiosity and concern evident in his voice.

"I am inspecting the castle, Alpos," Arbious replied, his gaze fixed upon the reflection within the fiery mirror. "You have done an excellent job fortifying it in my absence. However, I desire something more now."

"Something more?" Alpos echoed, his curiosity piqued.

"Mere imps are not enough to create the formidable front of the demon army I envision. We lack diversity... We lack ranged troops aside from the siege weapons," Arbious explained, his mind already delving into possibilities.

"So, you wish to manufacture crossbows, my lord?" Alpos suggested, attempting to grasp Arbious's intentions.

"Not crossbows," Arbious responded, a spark of excitement flickering in his eye. "Instead, I want to create an entirely new race of demons."

"A new race of demons?" Alpos's expression shifted to one of concern. "My lord, have we disappointed you in some way?"

"No, Alpos, you have not disappointed me," Arbious assured him, dispelling any doubts. "I simply believe that our army needs greater variety. The forces of light have humans, elves, angels, dwarves, and various other races that comprise their ranks. In contrast, we have only the Impions. It is time for a change."

Understanding began to dawn on Alpos's face as he contemplated the potential implications. "So... What exactly do you have in mind, my lord?"

"Separate the enslaved women we have captured from the men," Arbious commanded, his voice resolute. "I want to explore the possibilities that arise when demons and elves crossbreed."

"But, my lord, such an endeavor requires consent..." Alpos hesitated, acknowledging the complexities of the situation.

"Alpos, we're in hell," Arbious stated, his tone unwavering.

A sinister smile spread across Alpos's face as his faith in his supreme overlord was restored. "Of course, as you say, my lord."

"Have our demons mate with the elves by any means necessary," Arbious declared, the anticipation of the unknown fueling his resolve. "Let us witness the fruits of our endeavors, and from there, we shall determine our course of action."

Alpos bowed, his loyalty reaffirmed. "As you command, my lord. I shall oversee the implementation of your plan and ensure its execution."

With his gaze fixed upon the mirror, Arbious surveyed the vast landscapes of Hell and observed the extensive work that Alpos had accomplished. The walls of the citadel had been significantly reinforced, and new outer perimeter towers stood proudly, showcasing the formidable siege weapons that Alpos had crafted. The citadel exuded an air of menacing power, bringing a wicked sense of pride as Arbious beheld its imposing presence.

"Alpos," Arbious called out, his attention returning to the conversation at hand. "What would it take to expand the citadel outward?"

"It is an opportune time to undertake such an expansion, my lord," Alpos responded, his voice laced with enthusiasm. "I have taken the liberty of making the necessary arrangements to establish an outer zone, separate from sector three. This zone will serve as a designated area for various purposes, including mining precious materials, constructing training grounds, creating stockpiles, and accommodating a larger population of demons. However, before any of these endeavors can commence, we must first establish the fourth wall, ensuring essential fortifications, sufficient manpower to defend the walls, and a labor force to facilitate its construction."

"Then that is something I will look forward to in the future, but as of now your hands are already full," Arbious replied, acknowledging his commitment. "I appreciate your diligence and hard work during my absence. As for the development of the fourth sector, I will personally oversee all aspects of its establishment. I want you to focus solely on the task I have given you."

"Yes, my lord," Alpos affirmed, understanding the weight of Arbious's words. "I will diligently carry out your orders, gathering the corpses and searching for the uncle of a girl named Mila, should he be among our prisoners."

"Very good, while you attend to those matters, I have a special assignment for you. Capture the Archangel who was left wounded on the battlefield and have him thrown into the dungeons. I want you to torture him as you see fit, but do not kill him. Break his mind, break his spirit. His soul has already been corrupted, but I ensured that he would not be corrupted entirely, so that he may suffer a while longer."

Alpos's expression twisted into a wicked grin, mirroring Arbious's own dark amusement. "How benevolent of you, my lord," he responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Very well, Alpos," Arbious declared, granting him permission to depart. "You are dismissed. I commend you for your unwavering service and dedication. Now, go forth and fulfill my will. You alone bring honor to the demonic race!"

With a respectful nod, Alpos turned and left the throne room, his fervent loyalty reaffirmed. As the doors closed behind him, Arbious found himself alone atop his infernal throne, surrounded by the eerie silence of the citadel.

Arbious returned his attention to the mirror before him, the flames dancing within it as he continued to survey the vast expanse of Hell. The reflection revealed a realm reshaped by his dark influence, brimming with the promise of further conquest and wicked deeds.

Sitting upon his infernal throne, his divine form radiating with power, his mighty demonic blade by his side, a renewed determination surged within Arbious. It was time to rectify his past mistakes and reshape the very fabric of Hell to align with his vision.

The demonic army, growing stronger by the day, was a force to be reckoned with. With their unwavering loyalty to his cause and the increasing numbers at their disposal, their path to dominance seemed assured. However, Arbious had learned from the errors of the past. Instead of a direct assault on the human realms, he would employ a more cunning strategy.

No longer blinded by hubris (Maybe still a little), Arbious saw the path to triumph with newfound clarity. The human realms, once thought to be impenetrable, would crumble from within. He would sow the seeds of discord and discontent, exploiting their weaknesses to bring about their downfall. From the shadows, he would orchestrate their demise, while their forces simultaneously besieged their lands from the outside. The culmination of these dual strategies would ensure their triumph over the feeble mortal race.

But as Arbious contemplated their impending conquest, a realization dawned upon him. The state of Hell itself had become a reflection of his neglect. His recent visit to a remote human village had exposed the stark disparity between their realms. The humans had created thriving societies, manufacturing weapons, cultivating food, and harnessing their powers to the fullest extent. Meanwhile, Hell lagged behind, existing as a chaotic and disorganized abyss.

It was time to rectify this imbalance. The Hellfire Citadel, once a symbol of his power, would be transformed into a great bastion of darkness. Within its walls, demons would thrive, harnessing their innate abilities, and honing their skills to perfection. It would become a place where demonic weapons were forged, where demonic sustenance was cultivated, mirroring the industriousness and efficiency of the human world.

No longer would Hell be a realm of disorder and neglect. It would be a realm where demons flourished and embraced their true potential. Arbious would personally oversee the transformation, dedicating his efforts to turn the Hellfire Citadel into a beacon of darkness and supremacy. It would be a testament to his strength, a symbol of his superiority.