It didn't take long for Orsaga and the others to finish waiting.
As time went on, dozens more demons arrived through the spatial gate, stepping into the depths of the cavern.
Aside from a few strange individuals murmuring among themselves, the majority remained silent. They each picked a spot at random and sat down without a word.
To an outsider, it might seem peaceful—no disputes, no bloodshed—but for the demons gathered in that cavern, the silence didn't mean camaraderie.
If not for the abyssal contracts imposed by Ignarok's side, binding the demons who hadn't come purely by invitation, they would've already been at each other's throats.
Their eyes, full of guarded vigilance, made that abundantly clear.
Sensing that the collective biological clocks of the demons had reached a particular point, Orsaga, who had been sitting cross-legged in meditation, slowly opened his eyes.
The atmosphere shifted subtly. The other demons also became a bit more serious.
They hadn't arranged this meeting based on the time of this world—but in accordance with the internal clocks of Abyss-born creatures.
Time flowed differently in every realm. Some worlds experienced vast changes in the span of a single day elsewhere. It's not unheard of for one world to pass a day, while another undergoes millennia of change.
But the Abyss was different.
Its time flowed with eternal constancy—unchanging, unaffected by any force.
That's why, in many cases, not only do Abyssal natives use Abyss-time as a universal standard, but creatures from other worlds also rely on it to record important events.
As beings birthed from the Abyss, demons have a unique ability—part of their perception of time is permanently tethered to the Abyss. No matter what world they're in, they can sense the precise moment back in the Abyss. This allows them to avoid worlds with drastically divergent timeflows—preventing them from stepping out for what seems like a quick trip, only to return and find their lairs fossilized by the ages.
Sensing the eyes on him, the elderly dwarf seated at the center of the cavern slowly stood up. He gave a silent glance around at the assembled demons, nodding to himself in quiet satisfaction.
According to the contract's perception range, there were around two hundred demons within five thousand kilometers—and a hundred or so had shown up in person. That meant most had at least bothered to give him some face.
Of course, he knew that respect wasn't really for him—it was for the Flame Demon Lord, Ignarok.
If he failed to deliver something of interest, the demons wouldn't physically attack him due to the contract, but he certainly wouldn't be treated with any kindness either.
After all, demons capable of operating solo deep in enemy territory weren't your average mindless beasts. They were far more cunning, far more rational—and possessed real power to back it up. Arrogant and unyielding, they were the kind that followed no one's orders unless the reward was undeniable.
Just dropping his Lord's name wouldn't be enough to keep them in line.
Adjusting his expression, the dwarf named Gewa finally began to speak:
"I'm glad you could all make it. I am Gewa, commander of the Third Legion under Lord Ignarok. The reason we've invited you here today is simple—we intend to destroy a major city and use it as a sacrificial ground to construct a Polluted Zone. This will serve as a new landing point for our reinforcements."
Since they were all demons, there was no need for the kind of empty small talk humans loved before getting down to business.
In just a few sentences, Gewa laid out the entire objective.
A tall, skeletal demon with unnaturally long arms was the first to raise the most pressing question everyone had in mind:
"And what's in it for us?"
Frankly, none of them cared much about what they were being asked to do.
They were demons—what could it be other than pillaging and slaughter? It was never going to be anything noble or unifying.
All that mattered was whether the payoff was worth it.
Naturally, Gewa had anticipated this. He answered calmly:
"It depends on what you contribute. Soul crystals, flesh essence, high-rank magical materials, spell formulas for rare incantations, advanced magical artifacts… You'll receive a detailed list later, clearly outlining what each task is worth."
"Good," the long-armed demon replied before sitting back down.
Gewa clapped his hands softly. "That's all, then. Anyone not interested can leave now."
No one moved. Not a single demon turned to go.
Gewa smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent. In that case, let's sign the contract."
In the next instant, over a hundred contracts appeared before each demon—scrolls resembling aged parchment.
The contracts weren't long—just a few thousand words, mostly confidentiality clauses.
With a single glance, Orsaga had read the entire document.
There were no linguistic tricks, no hidden traps—everything was straightforward.
Not because Gewa was acting in good faith, but because trying to pull a fast one here would be suicide.
If any of the gathered demons caught even a whiff of deception, Gewa would be torn apart on the spot. And once that was done, they'd each grab a piece of him and head home—at least making the trip worth their while.
Normally, due to the Abyssal contracts, unaffiliated demons like Orsaga couldn't attack those directly under Ignarok's command. They were also required to avoid conflict with them to a certain extent.
Without such constraints, demons wouldn't care who you were. Unless you were the will of the Abyss itself, they didn't bow to anyone.
And even the will of the Abyss could be betrayed—for the right price.
In fact, the Abyssal will found such betrayal delightful, as it was the purest expression of chaos.
So long as you were clever, you could betray your current faction by opening a gate to outsiders—and then, after the invasion succeeded, betray the invaders too and return to the Abyssal fold.
This kind of flip-flopping wasn't unheard of.
Back when Orsaga and the others signed their original contract with Ignarok, one of the clauses had specified that they could only take action against Ignarok's forces if those forces initiated hostility.
That meant while they were in this world, they couldn't disrupt ignarok's plans or harm his subordinates—unless provoked first.
So, if Gewa had tried any underhanded tricks, it would've counted as a hostile act—giving Orsaga and the others full justification to retaliate.
And demons didn't need much of an excuse.
After everyone verified their contracts and signed, Gewa gathered the scrolls and continued, now ready to share more detailed information about the mission.
"I won't waste time. Our target is the magical city of Augustus, not far from here. Among the ten or so surrounding nations, it is the most powerful. Its resident population is around seven million—and rising due to recent unrest. It's likely over ten million by now. Our projections estimate it has about thirty native Demigod powerhouses, as well as numerous Legendary-Rank elites…"
As Gewa continued listing off the statistics, Orsaga gave a low whistle, his lips curling into a smile thick with malice.
"Mm, now that's a place I know well~"
____
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