Azrael and Wen Jea-Min rushed back to Gaza Town after completing their latest mission.
After turning in the Sublimated Blood they'd captured, the two found themselves with no immediate assignments, a rare moment of respite in the Northern Defense Army's relentless campaign.
Soon, other teams began filtering back into the fortress town. However, missions into demon territory always carried risks, and not every squad had experienced the smooth operation that Azrael and Wen Jea-Min enjoyed.
Some convoys had contained elite members of the Demon Army, creating considerable challenges for the assault teams. Several squads returned with wounded members, while others didn't return at all.
Yet injuries and casualties were a grim reality among the Northern Defense Army's ranks. The atmosphere in Gaza Town, while somber, wasn't particularly heavy, such losses had become an unfortunate norm along the frontier.
However, Azrael now began to question his earlier assessment. "Could it really have been coincidence that the convoy Wendy and I encountered was relatively weak?"
Over the past few days, he'd made discreet inquiries among the other teams. Some had successfully seized Sublimated Blood like them, but others had captured different experimental materials, various biological specimens and alchemical compounds that suggested the Demon Army was conducting multiple research projects simultaneously.
"There's no point overthinking it," Azrael sighed, pushing down his suspicions.
Ultimately, strategic analysis was Commander Kageyami's responsibility, not something a deputy commander should worry about.
Just then, Azrael's encrypted military communicator buzzed with an urgent message. All active Emerald-level Lore Cardians in the city were ordered to return to headquarters immediately.
Scanning the assembled group in the command center, Azrael noticed two or three fewer Emerald-level operatives compared to their previous briefing. He tugged at Wen Jea-Min's sleeve. "Wendy, the casualties this time should be considered relatively minor, right?"
Two or three Emerald-level Lore Cardians might seem insignificant for a border fortress as large as Gaza Town, but elsewhere, even a single Emerald-level operative could overwhelm an entire city without comparable opposition.
Upon hearing his words, the usually carefree short-haired woman's expression grew unusually serious. "No, Azrael. Every Emerald-level soldier represents invaluable talent for the Northern Defense Army. Even losing one is a tremendous loss."
"But this is the Northern Defense Army. No one can guarantee they'll see tomorrow's sunrise."
"Besides, do you understand why we're pulling back our defensive lines?"
For years, the Empire of Aetherlight and the Demon Army had maintained a stalemate, usually preserving a dynamic equilibrium along the border. But recently, with the increasing frequency of secret realms manifesting across the continent, the Empire had begun struggling to maintain its extended defensive perimeters.
Sighing, Wen Jea-Min's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's actually related to Lioren as well."
"If it weren't for a Sovereign-level secret realm appearing in Shudoria Province, our Northern Defense Army wouldn't be facing such difficulties."
After sharing this classified information, she quickly reverted to her usual casual demeanor. "Hey, Azrael, don't overthink it. That kind of strategic concern is above our pay grade."
"We just need to follow orders."
Azrael nodded silently, filing away the intelligence about the broader war situation.
At that moment, Commander Kageyami addressed the assembled operatives. "Everyone performed excellently on the last mission."
"However, yesterday I received another intelligence report. The Demon Army has another convoy of experimental materials en route."
The bald commander's sharp gaze swept across everyone present.
Azrael frowned internally. "So soon?"
His tactical instincts rebelled against the scenario. If he were commanding the Demon Army, there was no way he'd schedule two escort missions in such rapid succession, not after losing so many convoys in the previous operation. The Northern Defense Army had practically advertised their ability to intercept classified intelligence.
Just as Azrael prepared to voice his concerns to Commander Kageyami, the commander continued speaking.
"But this time, I need everyone to maintain maximum vigilance."
"There's a high probability this is a trap set by the Demon Army. However, we have no choice but to respond."
Hearing these words, Azrael felt a mixture of surprise and relief.
Of course, if he could recognize the tactical inconsistency, how could Commander Kageyami, a seasoned military leader, miss it?
And the bald commander was absolutely correct in his assessment.
This time, the Demon Army was employing an overt scheme, a calculated provocation. They were essentially declaring, "We know you can intercept our communications. So what? Come and try to stop us."
If the Northern Defense Army ignored the bait, the experimental materials would reach their destination unopposed.
But the Northern Defense Army couldn't afford to gamble that those materials weren't critically important to the enemy's war effort.
The situation reminded Azrael of an ancient military principle, "In the end, everything depends on who has the bigger fist."
Commander Kageyami concluded the briefing, "Team assignments remain the same. Everyone, prepare for deployment."
Azrael had no objections to being paired with Wen Jea-Min again. During their previous mission, she'd been remarkably considerate, and their tactical coordination had developed into something approaching synchronization, a valuable asset in combat operations.
He found himself wondering what had happened to Wen Jea-Min's previous partner, whether they'd been killed in action or transferred elsewhere. The Northern Defense Army had a grim reputation for consuming personnel.
As if reading his thoughts, Wen Jea-Min slung her arm around his shoulders with practiced familiarity. "This time we're going up against the Demon Army's elite forces. Are you sure you're ready, Azrael?"
"Don't let your pride get you killed, I won't be able to explain your death to Master Lucian."
Azrael recognized the genuine concern beneath her casual words. He adopted a mock-serious tone, "There are no unbeatable opponents ahead of us."
"...What?"
Wen Jea-Min shuddered and immediately released him, whistling innocently as she pretended not to know him.
The winter wind whipped across the snowy landscape, lifting powder from the ground as anti-skid tires left tracks in the frozen terrain.
At the center of a massive convoy, a humanoid demon with leopard-like features reported quietly to three Demon Army officers who sat with their eyes closed in meditation.
"My three lords, we're approaching the location where the last incident occurred."
The officer seated in the middle responded without opening his eyes. "Understood. Alert the troops to monitor their surroundings."
"Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, Azrael and Wen Jea-Min crouched on a distant hillside, buried beneath a thick layer of snow that concealed them completely. With Wen Jea-Min's stealth cards masking their presence, nothing unusual could be detected from the outside.
"Three of them," Azrael observed quietly.
"Wendy, should we attack now?"
Wen Jea-Min shook her head slightly. "Wait until they're farther from their main force and their guard drops."
She couldn't help glancing at Azrael's equipment belt. Throughout their surveillance, she'd stolen several curious looks, but still couldn't discern anything special about his gear. Before departure, he'd confidently declared it his ultimate trump card, yet wearing it seemed to change nothing about his appearance or capabilities.
Azrael's confidence reminded her of Master Lucian's unwavering faith in preparation and contingency planning.
As the convoy moved into the distance, Wen Jea-Min withdrew her gaze and whispered, "Now! Attack!"
The next moment, Ulquiorra materialized behind the distant convoy.
Unlike their previous engagement, this time the merciless black-and-white reaper wasn't able to eliminate multiple targets before being intercepted.
"BOOM!"
A deafening explosion sent snow cascading through the air.
"So it's you, High-Risk Target: Four-Winged Demon, designation unknown."
A voice echoed from behind the settling snow cloud.
Ulquiorra recognized the voice as belonging to Yale, the demon he'd fought during the previous convoy raid.
He casually hurled his emerald spiritual spear, the weapon instantly piercing through the snow toward the source of the voice.
Ignoring the attack that barely grazed his body, Yale turned to the two other demon officers standing beside him. "I assume I now have permission to use my full abilities?"
"Granted. The Lord has approved your request."
A bloodthirsty smile crossed Yale's face.
"THUMP!"
A dull, rhythmic heartbeat echoed across the battlefield. The lower-ranked demons clutched their chests in agony as they stared at Yale in growing horror.
Countless streams of blood began pooling in Yale's outstretched hands.
Behind him lay the desiccated remains of his own subordinates, completely drained of their life force.
Without warning, the scarlet blade materialized and whizzed past Ulquiorra's original position, leaving a thin crimson scar across the pristine white snow.
"Do you think such parlor tricks can intimidate me?"
Ulquiorra's cold voice rang out as his intact form appeared beside Yale, the emerald spiritual spear thrusting toward the demon's torso.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Emerald green and scarlet energies intertwined in a deadly dance.
Within seconds, the two combatants had exchanged dozens of lightning-fast strikes.
The other two demon officers moved to support Yale, but Wen Jea-Min's cards had already intercepted them, binding them in their own separate battles.
"As expected of a high-risk target, truly formidable."
The blood blade swept forward as Ulquiorra raised his spiritual spear to block.
However, to his surprise, the moment the weapons made contact, the blood blade suddenly shattered into liquid, then reconstituted itself inside his defensive guard.
The next instant, a pale white arm flew high through the air, landing in the snow amid a spray of droplets.
"What a shame!"
Yale clicked his tongue in disappointment as he observed Ulquiorra's distant form with irritation.
To the demon's eyes, Ulquiorra's severed right arm was rapidly regenerating, restored to its original condition within seconds.
"Damn it! Cards with unreasonable healing factors are such a pain to deal with!"
Yale attacked Ulquiorra again with renewed frustration, swinging his blood blade in wild, sweeping arcs.
Crimson light radiated outward, severing trees for kilometers around and painting the surrounding snow with scarlet stains.
However, Ulquiorra had learned from his mistake and wouldn't be caught off-guard a second time.
Since close combat couldn't effectively defend against his enemy's liquid-form attacks, he decided to switch to ranged engagement.
Dodging the relentless barrage of blood projectiles, Ulquiorra flicked his index finger, sending several dark energy bursts piercing through the air toward Yale.
He deliberately avoided using his Thunder Spear technique, with such widespread area attacks, any experimental materials in the convoy would be reduced to ash.
As the two clashed, the accumulated snow gradually disappeared, revealing the dark brown frozen earth beneath.
Azrael, watching from a distance as Yale's blood techniques painted the battlefield crimson, muttered in confusion, "Is the bleeding really that excessive?"
Meanwhile, Yale's previously irritated expression suddenly calmed, replaced by a bloodthirsty grin. "Did you really think I was just standing here fighting randomly?"
"I've got you now!"
As he spoke, the scarlet blood that had been spreading across the battlefield since the beginning of his clash with Ulquiorra suddenly transformed into countless blood arrows, all shooting directly toward Azrael and Wen Jea-Min's concealed position.