Late at night, Rogue issued new commands to his numbered puppets.
Unit One was assigned solely to Lilitha—handling her three daily meals, drawing bathwater, and other routine tasks Rogue normally performed.
Unit One was the only entity Lilitha regularly saw besides Rogue himself. He’d deliberately fostered her familiarity with it, ensuring she wouldn’t reject its presence.
Unit Two retained its role as caretaker, managing Rogue’s meals and the manor’s upkeep as usual.
Unit Three, the combat puppet, received Rogue’s most detailed instructions. With him absent, he couldn’t predict who might invade the estate.
Unit Four continued guarding the dungeon.
Unit Five was disguised as a demon guard, accompanying Rogue to the surface.
Before departure, Rogue longed to see Moy one last time. But under constant surveillance, he dared not risk it. This trip alone had drawn Aria’s suspicion. Visiting Moy might mean returning to find only his corpse.
Once preparations were complete, Rogue walked to the military encampment outside the Demon Lord Fortress. At 3 a.m., Germok was still there, handling Demon Lord Army affairs.
Spotting Rogue, he stated flatly, "Lady Aria has ordered you not to act independently. That is a command."
"I understand. I wouldn’t act without necessity," Rogue nodded, aware Aria sought to minimize complications.
Germok gave a slight nod and said no more.
Rogue soon joined the slave transport squad. Two horned demons of the eighth rank led the unit:
One mage, one warrior, plus three squads of seventh-rank demons—this was their full strength.
"Lord Rogue," the mage Ilidian bowed slightly, right hand over his left chest in formal demon nobility etiquette. "I’ve received word from General Germok. Your presence honors us."
Beside him, the warrior Higor hefted a massive sword. His black robes couldn’t hide his muscular frame. "Just give the orders, sir. We’ll handle anything."
Though meeting Rogue for the first time, neither dismissed him for being human. As Aria’s favored aide and one of the fortress’s few high-ranking Priests, his status commanded respect.
Rogue nodded to both, then gestured to Unit Five beside him. "My guard."
"Then please wear these, Lord Rogue. For the surface journey, we must conceal our identities." Ilidian offered two simple black robes.
They fell to the calves, fastened only by a neck-tie. The hoods obscured faces well, woven with magic to block perception.
Seeing Unit Five disguised, neither demon questioned it. To them, Rogue—a Priest seemingly no fighter—bringing a guard was only sensible.
Higor tried to speak to Unit Five, but Rogue explained it was mute. The warrior dropped the matter.
At 4 a.m., the group set out for the teleportation array at the fortress’s heart.
Ilidian outlined the plan:
"Outbound, the slaves’ survival matters little. But the elven slaves we exchange for on the return trip are vital. That leg will be harder."
"We’ll spend half a day teleporting: from the Demon Lord Fortress through the major strongholds of Rockefeller, Basephalis, and Adrimon, reaching the border. From there, the Great Abyss array takes us underground."
"The Great Abyss array deposits us in the Marshwood Wilds outside Gracy Kingdom. Beyond that, we travel on foot through human territory. We’ll have escorts for the handover, then withdraw immediately. Most time will be spent moving."
After three years in the Demon Lord Fortress, this was Rogue’s first surface trip. Bathed only in the crimson moonlight underground, he’d almost forgotten the sun’s warmth.
He nodded to Ilidian. "You handle the arrangements. At the exchange point, I may need half to one full day for personal matters."
"The general informed us. Higor will accompany you."
Ilidian sensed Rogue’s reticence and fell silent, speaking only when necessary.
The three demon squads barely stopped discussing Rogue. The stench of humanity clung to him—a reek impossible to mask. A few he’d healed treated him respectfully; most endured the odor out of duty. Rogue was used to it after years in the fortress.
After several teleports, Rogue understood why Ilidian called Rockefeller, Basephalis, and Adrimon "strongholds." They weren’t cities—they were fortresses.
Alchemical constructs lined hundred-meter-high walls. Magical arrays and arcane cannons crowded every rampart. At each city’s core, Rogue sensed the chilling aura of an Overlord Magic spell.
Each stronghold housed one Overlord Magic spell and a Legendary-ranked commander—even if their power felt artificially inflated. These were the gates to the Demon Lord Fortress. Rogue couldn’t fathom how any Hero could breach them.
The failed Heroic expedition three years ago now seemed inevitable.
By the time they reached the fortress, the Heroes’ forces would be decimated. Losing to well-rested demons felt almost logical.
Half a day later, they emerged at the Great Abyss.
An endless black pit stretched before them. A faint wind rose from its depths, reeking of corruption that triggered instinctive revulsion.
Below lay a bottomless chasm. Legends spoke of another world beneath—but all who tried to descend perished. Merely staring into the Abyss brought nausea, dizziness, and madness.
Above, through the underground sky, sunlight occasionally pierced the gloom, the only warmth this realm knew.
"We follow the cliffside path to the teleportation array," Ilidian said, drawing his Staff. A low chant escaped his lips.
Familiars materialized, scouting ahead. The convoy tightened its formation.
Hearing "Abyssal Church," Rogue’s thoughts sharpened.
Aria was investigating them too. Three years ago, they’d intervened—saving the Heroes when all seven and their Legendary escorts should have died underground.
*They’re connected to me somehow.*
