Tatsuo's forces, their spirits buoyed by their hard-won victory, set to work immediately. They established a fortified perimeter, their defenses a layered network of barricades, archer towers, and cavalry patrols. The lingering demonic remnants, scattered and disoriented, were hunted down and eliminated with ruthless efficiency.
The Elven archers, their keen eyes and steady hands, picked off the stragglers from afar, their arrows finding their marks with deadly accuracy. The Hobgoblin warriors, their raw strength and ferocity unleashed, tracked down and overwhelmed any remaining pockets of resistance. The human soldiers, their disciplined formations and unwavering resolve, secured the perimeter, ensuring no demonic survivors could slip through their defenses.
The priests, their healing magic a beacon of hope, tended to the wounded, their gentle touch easing the pain and mending broken bones. The Holy Knights, their armor gleaming with righteous fervor, patrolled the perimeter, their presence a deterrent to any lingering demonic presence.
Days turned into nights, and nights into days. The relentless hunt for demonic survivors continued, each passing hour solidifying their victory. Tatsuo, his vigilance unwavering, oversaw the fortification efforts, ensuring every weakness was addressed, every potential threat neutralized.
Scouting parties, led by Ehdeec and his agile Hobgoblin scouts, ventured deep into the surrounding forests, their keen senses searching for any signs of demonic activity. They returned with reassuring reports: the demonic horde had been utterly decimated, their presence eradicated from the region.
As the days passed, a sense of cautious optimism began to settle over the army. The lingering threat of demonic retaliation faded, replaced by the quiet confidence of a battle won. The battlefield, once a scene of carnage, was now a testament to their resilience and their unity.
Tatsuo, his mind finally at ease, allowed himself a moment of respite. He surveyed his forces, his heart swelling with pride. They were a diverse army, a blend of humans, elves, and Hobgoblins, united by a common purpose. They had faced a terrifying threat, and they had emerged victorious.
He turned to his commanders, his voice filled with gratitude. "We have prevailed," he declared. "We have defended our domain. We have proven our strength."
He knew that the victory was not just his, but theirs. It was a victory for unity, for courage, and for the unwavering determination to protect their home. And he knew that they would be ready for any threat that may come in the future.
A year had passed since the harrowing battle against the demonic horde. Life within Tatsuo's domain had settled into a rhythm of peace and prosperity, punctuated by the joyous sounds of new life. Tatsuo and Ahtris were now proud parents of a five-month-old son, Zaltaron, a healthy and curious child who brought immeasurable joy to their lives.
Sir Ragnar Sternguard and the Elf Elder Kaylessa had also welcomed their own bundles of joy: twin half-giant-elf-human boys, Gordian and Glacian, their unique heritage a testament to the blending of cultures within Tatsuo's domain. Sir Proggor Stoneclaw and Sir Reeldos Umbra were now fathers to one-year-old sons, Thorg and Nyxian, respectively, their laughter echoing through the halls of Dragonsden City.
Baron Rota Uno, however, was experiencing a different kind of joy, one tinged with exasperation. His son, Doran, now a rambunctious one-and-a-half-year-old, had taken a keen interest in swordsmanship, his toy sword becoming a weapon of indiscriminate slashing. Rota found himself constantly apologizing for Doran's enthusiastic, if somewhat dangerous, play, even Tatsuo had to dodge a few swings.
In the aftermath of the demonic invasion, Tatsuo had received a significant reward from the System: his cultivation level had risen to Magisterial Court Realm 3rd level, a testament to his growing power. He had also been promoted to Major General, a recognition of his military prowess. He named his army the Black Dragon Army, a symbol of his strength and his unwavering resolve.
The Church, deeply grateful for Tatsuo's role in the demonic defeat, had become his staunch allies, their support unwavering. Archbishop Ignatius, still proclaiming Tatsuo as the Black Dragon Saint, ensured that the Church's influence bolstered Tatsuo's authority throughout the region.
On his 21st birthday, Tatsuo received a traditional gift from his father, the Emperor: a young Wyvern, a symbol of the Imperial family's bond with these majestic creatures. Tatsuo, deeply honored, began the long process of raising and training his Wyvern, forging a bond that would strengthen with each passing year.
The Hobgoblin village had flourished, the female and male Hobgoblins integrating seamlessly into their new lives. Jiasraal and Commander Lish had married, their union producing two Noble Hobgoblin children, a boy and a girl. The Hobgoblin population had swelled to 10,000, 3,000 of whom were infants, a testament to their rapid reproduction rate. The remaining 5,000 were now a formidable fighting force, loyal and eager to serve Tatsuo.
Tatsuo, ever vigilant, had also expanded his army, recruiting 10,000 new soldiers from across the empire. As was his custom, he subjected them to his infamous "Prince Torture Training," a rigorous regimen that tested their limits and forged them into hardened warriors. The veteran soldiers, now seasoned and battle-hardened, watched the new recruits with amusement, their laughter echoing across the training grounds.
Now, Tatsuo's attention turned to the viscounty of Greenvein, a region within the Blackhorn Duchy to the north. The System had issued a new quest: to conquer this land. Tatsuo, ever obedient to the system, began gathering information, his mind already formulating strategies for the upcoming campaign. He knew that this would be a challenge, but he was confident in his abilities, and the abilities of his Black Dragon Army. He knew that they would conquer this new land. He will make this new land a better place. He would bring peace and prosperity to the people.