Chapter 66: A Personal Invitation

Chapter 66: A Personal Invitation The war against Queen Alyssa had settled into a grim and tedious rhythm. For days, my two elite teams, the Wrecking Crew and the Shadow Strikers, had been making steady, brutal progress. They were a sledgehammer and a scalpel, carving up the outer sectors of her crystalline fortress. Every sector they conquered was a victory, but a costly one, chipping away at my limited resources and my even more limited patience. The Proclamation of War had turned my domain into a sealed arena, an inescapable cage match, and while I was landing blows, my opponent was a high-level magic-user with an infuriating home-field advantage. "This is a slugging match," I muttered, staring at the holographic map projected over the stone table in my Throne Room. The glowing green icons of my forces moved with agonizing slowness. "And I’m starting to feel like the slug. A very powerful, handsome, and strategically brilliant slug, mind you, but a slug nonetheless." Pixia, my tiny pixie advisor, zipped over to my shoulder. She had a miniature holographic screen of her own hovering in front of her, filled with graphs and charts that probably detailed the declining morale of a single goblin in Sector 12. "My Lord, our current strategy of a two-front assault is statistically sound," she squeaked, her voice obnoxiously clear. "Based on current rates of attrition and resource expenditure, we are projected to achieve a 68.3% victory probability within the designated 30-day period." I leveled a deadpan stare at her. "Sixty-eight percent? Pixia, in the games I used to play, a 68% chance to hit was a cosmic guarantee that you would miss, trip over your own feet, and accidentally set your pants on fire. I don’t like those odds. She’s reacting to our moves, defending where we attack. We’re playing her game. I need to change the board. I need to flip the whole damn table over." I started pacing, the cold stone floor a welcome balm to my restless thoughts. My long, dark coat swished around my ankles, an affectation I’d adopted because it felt very "Demon King." Alyssa was a schemer. A queen. She wouldn’t just throw her forces away without purpose. Every move she made was calculated. What was her primary target? Her win condition? It wasn’t just about defending her territory. In a duel to the death like this, there was only one objective. "Me," I said aloud, stopping dead in my tracks. The realization hit with the force of a physical blow. "She’s not trying to beat my army. She’s trying to find me." Pixia’s glasses nearly vibrated off her face. "My Lord! To expose yourself would be a catastrophic tactical error! Your personal combat ability, while formidable, is statistically no match for a Level 10 magic-specialized Demon Queen in a prepared defensive position!" "Exactly," I said, a slow, wicked grin spreading across my face. It was the kind of grin that made small, cute things want to hide. "She’ll never expect it. She thinks I’m a coward, hiding behind my minions and my B-Rank Alchemy. She thinks I’ll play it safe, grind her down with superior numbers. So, I’m going to give her exactly what she wants. I’m going to send her a personal, engraved invitation to come and kill me." Ignoring Pixia’s frantic squeaks of protest, which were starting to sound like a series of increasingly distressed teapot whistles, I opened a direct mental channel to my commanders. "Isabelle, Chloe. New orders. I’m relocating to the front lines. Sector 26. I want all available forces redirected to reinforce the adjacent sectors, but leave 26 looking... juicy. I want it to look like a poorly defended command post. I want to paint a giant, glowing, ’Free Kill Here’ sign on my own back." My new command post was a ruined, cathedral-like cavern in Sector 26, a place of shattered crystal pillars and eerie, humming silence. I had my goblins drag my ridiculously uncomfortable obsidian throne right into the middle of the cavern floor, setting it up on a small, defensible ledge. I sat there, flanked by only a handful of my Lilim, who were lounging seductively on broken pillars, and my new Vampire Baron, Izayoi, who stood behind me radiating an aura of bored, aristocratic menace. It was the most arrogant, most idiotic, most beautiful trap I had ever conceived. It didn’t take long for Alyssa’s forces to take the bait. They flowed into the sector not with a brutish charge, but with a chilling, silent grace. Her soldiers were Crystal Golems and shimmering, jellyfish-like elementals, but leading them was a squadron of elite archers. They were tall, elegant-looking Dark Elves, much like Chloe, but their bows were carved from pure, glowing crystal, and the arrows they nocked... they glowed with a faint, silvery light that made the hairs on my arms stand up. "Well, isn’t that just textbook," I murmured as the first volley was loosed. It was a beautiful, terrifying sight. The arrows flew, not in a high arc, but in flat, impossibly fast trajectories. The wind shrieked as they sliced through the air, dozens of tiny, piercing sonic booms. They weren’t aimed at my minions. They were all aimed at me. "My Lord, get down!" Izayoi commanded, his voice a low growl. He moved with impossible speed, a blur of motion as he stepped in front of my throne to act as a shield. BOOM! One of the silver-tipped arrows struck his outstretched arm. The impact was a violent detonation. CRACK! Izayoi’s vambrace, a piece of B-Rank alchemized steel, shattered into pieces. A burst of holy, silvery light erupted from the point of impact. Izayoi, a creature of pure darkness and my most expensive subordinate, recoiled with a sharp hiss of genuine pain. His arm smoked where the arrow had struck, the holy energy eating away at his vampiric flesh. A visible shockwave of force blasted outwards from the impact, shaking the throne itself. I breathed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. "She knows I’m a vampire. She’s using my specific weakness against me. That clever, vicious, magnificent witch." The second volley was already in the air, the sound of a hundred shrieking winds filling the cavern. "Fall back!" I roared, not out of fear, but out of cold, hard strategy. The trap wasn’t for me; it was for them. "Retreat to Sector 28! Draw them in! Make them think they have me on the run!" I turned and moved, a blur of shadow, my coat whipping behind me. The silver arrows whistled past my head, each one carrying a searing heat that promised a painful, agonizing end. This wasn’t just war anymore. She had made it personal. She had researched her opponent. And she had no idea how big a mistake that was. I was no longer just her rival. I was her nemesis. And I was about to lead her entire elite army into a purpose-built meat grinder.