Chapter 58: Two Fronts, One Big Headache

Chapter 58: Two Fronts, One Big Headache The Throne Room had been meticulously cleaned, the last of the groaning, hungover goblins unceremoniously kicked awake, and a sharp, serious mood had settled over Ragnar’s commanders. He stood before his assembled Bloodkin, a glowing, three-dimensional map of the city’s sectors projected onto the stone table between them. Light from the illusion flickered across the walls, painting twisted shadows. "Alright, listen up," he began, his voice cutting through the silence like a shard of glass. "The game has changed. Our new neighbor, Queen Alyssa, is a significant problem. A smart problem. We cannot afford to attack her directly while she’s playing host to a hero infestation. Therefore, we are splitting our forces. We are opening a second front." Isabelle Vhagar, her armored arms folded neatly over her chest, raised a single, perfect eyebrow. A thin lock of silver hair slipped free from her braid as she tilted her head. "You want us to engage two Demon Kings simultaneously, my Lord? Our resources are already stretched." "I don’t want to fight them. I want to make my enemies fight each other," Ragnar corrected her, a wicked, fanged grin playing on his lips. "Isabelle, your Wrecking Crew will continue to be a thorn in the side of our original target. Harass Gorgon’s old mall. It’s our territory now, but it’s still a hotbed of his remaining forces and a magnet for curious heroes. Bleed his stragglers. Annoy any hero patrols you find. Keep everyone’s attention locked on you. You are the anvil." He then turned his burning gaze to his silent, deadly Dark High Elf. Chloe barely moved, as still and composed as an obsidian statue. "Your Shadow Strikers have a new, more subtle mission. You are the hammer. You will invade the outer sectors of Queen Alyssa’s crystal fortress." Chloe nodded once, her expression calm, but a flicker of understanding flashed like lightning in her amethyst eyes. Her slender fingers tapped lightly against the pommel of her curved dagger, eager yet patient. "And our objective, my Lord?" she asked softly. "Chaos," Ragnar said, savoring the word. "Pure, unadulterated chaos. Your job is not to conquer. Your job is to be the most irritating houseguest in history. Attack her supply lines. Assassinate her sub-bosses. Smash her prettiest crystals. Cause as much random, pointless damage as you can. I want to force her to pull her main forces away from the heroes to deal with you. I want her stretched so thin that she snaps." A faint, cold smile curved Chloe’s lips, promising silent violence. He then looked directly at Isabelle, his expression hardening until the edges of his eyes were sharp as blades. "Commander, your team will undoubtedly encounter hero patrols near the mall. Your orders are to avoid them if possible. If you cannot... they are the enemy. The survival of your team is the highest priority. Do you understand what that means?" Isabelle met his gaze without flinching, her golden eyes cool and resolute. She knew he was entrusting her to make the hard, cold choice if things went bad. "Understood, my Lord. There will be no hesitation." "Good," Ragnar said, clapping his hands together once, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the stone chamber. "Now, go. Let’s give this city something to talk about." The two teams departed, boots silent on the marble floor as they melted into the darkness of the Domain. Ragnar, left alone with Pixia, exhaled a slow breath. A flicker of manic energy danced behind his eyes. He turned on his phone, expertly splitting the screen to show two live feeds. It was like playing two different, high-stakes strategy games at once. It was immensely stressful, and he was having the time of his life. On the left side of his screen, Isabelle’s Wrecking Crew arrived at the conquered shopping mall. They moved like wraiths through the broken, looted storefronts, the glass crunching softly under their armored boots. Neon lights flickered and buzzed overhead. They bypassed the outer patrols of Gorgon’s remaining Orcs, keeping low and silent, gestures sharp and precise. Their target was a power station that, according to Pixia’s analysis, controlled the security and lighting for three of the mall’s sectors. Isabelle had every step measured and silent. Meanwhile, on the right side of Ragnar’s screen, Chloe’s Shadow Strikers slipped into the shimmering, crystalline borders of Queen Alyssa’s domain. The fortress was beautiful and strange,a wonder and a trap all at once. The walls were made of smooth, clear crystal. Strange, glowing elemental creatures drifted through the corridors. Their first opposition was a squad of goblins, but these were different from the usual scuttling rabble. Their crude leather armor was studded with sparkling, sharp crystals, glinting with a deadly beauty. They were led by a tall, imposing man made entirely of pure, solid ice. "Intruders!" the Ice Golem boomed. "You have defiled the Sanctum of the Crystal Queen! You will be frozen and displayed as a warning!" Chloe gave a simple, two-word command, voice as calm as falling snow. "Engage them." BOOM! Grunt, the Kobold Warlord, let out a deafening roar and charged. The crystal floor trembled and cracked beneath his clawed feet, shards splintering away under his weight. The wind shrieked as he swung his massive maul, Earthshaker, in a brutal arc that howled through the glowing air. CRACK! The maul met the Ice Golem’s outstretched fist. The impact was an apocalyptic explosion of sound and force. A visible shockwave of shattered ice and displaced air blasted outwards, sending the smaller crystal goblins skittering like leaves before a hurricane. Both monstrous figures were thrown backward, slamming into the crystal walls with bone-rattling force. The first battle had begun. Back at the mall, Isabelle’s team had reached the power station. It was guarded by ten of Gorgon’s biggest, meanest-looking Orcs. "Lillith, if you would be so kind," Isabelle commanded, her voice a low, velvet murmur. The Lilim blew a kiss toward the guards. A wave of shimmering pink smoke, smelling faintly of sugar and bad intentions, rolled over the Orcs like silk. They stopped mid-grunt, their ugly faces going slack and stupid. With a collective sigh, they began to stare at a large, humming electrical transformer as if it were the most beautiful and fascinating thing they had ever seen in their short, violent lives. "Reina, Fenris. The door," Isabelle ordered, voice crisp. BOOM! The Dhampir and the Werewolf hit the reinforced steel door at the exact same instant. The sound was a deafening, groaning shriek of tortured metal. A massive shockwave blasted outwards from the impact, shaking the concrete walls and sending dust raining from the ceiling. The door crumpled inward like a piece of tin foil, hinges screaming as metal buckled. Ragnar watched both screens, a manic grin stretching his pale face, eyes glinting with crimson fire. His plan was working perfectly. The city was a chessboard,and he was finally playing both sides.