Author : Tanya will speak to those soldiers in a very staccato manner for a reason.
There was an impressive number of ways to start a war in Hell.
Stealing another Overlord’s territory was a classic method.
Taking their souls worked very well too.
Sabotaging their business, murdering their subordinates, or simply insulting them in front of enough witnesses could produce equally effective results.
After several decades spent in the Pride Ring, I had even witnessed a conflict that lasted nearly three years and apparently started over a bottle of whiskey and a prostitute whom two Overlords both claimed to have paid first.
Compared to that, my demands had always been remarkably reasonable.
I did not demand to be liked, I did not ask anyone to recognize my authority, and I had never felt the need to plant my flag on every fucking street in Pentagram City.
I had my territory, my contracts, my businesses, and enough souls to guarantee the standard of living I desired.
The others could slaughter each other to determine who owned the tallest building or the best nightclub as long as they had the basic courtesy not to come and fuck with me.
A simple rule.
A rule that Bartholomew Crane had apparently judged too complex.
I was standing in front of one of the large windows of my office when the first explosion lit up the horizon.
Even from several kilometers away, I saw a column of flames rise above the black forest bordering my domain.
A few seconds later, the rumbling reached the manor and made the windows vibrate slightly.
I did not move immediately.
Behind me, the steady ticking of a clock continued as if nothing had happened.
A fire burned quietly in the fireplace and the cup of coffee I had prepared a few minutes earlier was still steaming on my desk.
I looked at the column of smoke, my coffee, and then the smoke again.
“Son of a bitch.”
I really wanted to drink that coffee.
The door to my office opened almost immediately.
One of my soldiers entered without waiting any longer, his boots producing a sharp click on the wooden floor before he stopped a few steps from the desk.
Even after all these years, their appearance would probably have made any normal person uncomfortable.
They had humanoid silhouettes and all wore the same dark uniform: high boots, black trousers, a long almost charcoal-gray coat, and a steel helmet without the slightest insignia.
Their skin, when visible, looked more like a mass of compact shadow than flesh.
They had neither noses nor eyes, only a mouth.
A broad white smile filled with teeth that never disappeared.
I had tried to correct that detail when I first started creating them.
Without success.
Apparently, Hell had a very personal sense of aesthetics.
The soldier came to attention.
“Attack on the Eastern sector.
Three forward positions engaged.
Enemy forces identified as belonging to Crane.”
His voice was deep and strangely hollow, as if several people were whispering exactly the same words behind him.
I finally left the window and walked toward my desk.
On its surface rested a detailed map of my territory, carefully maintained despite the constant evolution of roads and construction.
“The losses?”
The soldier answered immediately.
“Seven units destroyed.
Twelve damaged.
Two positions abandoned in accordance with defensive directives.”
I placed my fingers on the map and followed the eastern boundary of my domain.
Crane had chosen three points.
And all of them were close enough together to allow his forces to support one another.
I had to give him at least that: he was not completely stupid.
“How many?”
“Current estimate: eight hundred combatants.
Reinforcements detected behind their first line.”
I slowly raised my eyes.
“Eight hundred?”
“Yes, Commander.”
An involuntary smile stretched my lips.
“So he really decided to do this.”
The soldier did not answer.
My creations were capable of understanding complex orders, adapting a formation, exploiting terrain, and even making basic tactical decisions when they lost contact with me.
Ask them their opinion on the weather, however, and there was a good chance you would get several minutes of silence.
I walked around the desk, grabbed my cape from the back of my chair, and draped it over my shoulders.
“Have two companies prepared.
The third stays here with the reserve.
I also want the heavy units ready to move, but they do not leave the complex without my order.”
“Immediate execution.” The soldier inclined his head and turned around.
“And soldier?”
He stopped in the doorway.
I pointed toward my still-steaming cup.
“Put that in a thermos.”
He remained perfectly still for a good ten seconds before speaking.
“The coffee?”
“Yes, the coffee.
I’m probably going to spend several hours dealing with another Overlord’s bullshit and I refuse to do it without coffee.”
The soldier’s smile obviously did not change.
“Understood.”
He took the cup with as much seriousness as if I had just entrusted him with a strategic weapon before leaving the room.
I watched him go and sometimes, I wondered whether their complete lack of a sense of humor was a blessing or a curse.
Twenty minutes later, I was flying above the trees.
The hot air of Hell struck my face and made my cape snap behind me as I moved eastward.
I had not needed equipment to fly for a very long time.
I only had to want it for my body to leave the ground, infernal magic responding to my movements with an ease that would have made the Tanya Degurechaff of my former life jealous.
Two hundred soldiers advanced beneath me.
The sight might have seemed disorganized from the sky.
The trees prevented any perfectly regular formation and the terrain gradually became rougher as we approached the border.
Yet every unit knew exactly where it was supposed to be.
Some advanced directly along the paths, others moved parallel between the trees, while several groups had already moved ahead to observe enemy movements.
I did not need to remind them of every detail, that was precisely why I had created them.
In the distance, new detonations echoed.
Then I felt something brush against the edges of my perception.
Several hundred presences.
Many were so weak that they did not matter.
A few more significant but nothing for me to worry about.
And finally, a much heavier mass of magic at the center that I recognized perfectly.
Crane.
“He came personally…”
I could not stop a small laugh.
That saved me a later trip.
I accelerated.
The forest gradually disappeared beneath my feet and gave way to a large industrial zone located near the border.
In the past, several warehouses there had been used to store goods.
Now, two buildings were burning and part of the road had been torn apart by the fighting.
My soldiers were still holding an improvised barricade between two structures.
Opposite them, Crane’s men occupied practically the entire avenue.
There were a lot of them, but their equipment had no consistency.
Rifles, pistols, axes, automatic weapons, a few pieces of artillery mounted on vehicles.
Some wore metal protection, others fought bare-chested.
A dangerous, noisy, and above all terribly disorganized army of gangsters.
I slowed above my lines.
A projectile passed several meters from me.
Then a second.
I looked toward the ground.
“Seriously?”
Around ten enemies had just started firing in my direction.
I raised one hand and a translucent red barrier appeared in front of me.
The bullets crashed against it in a succession of small sparks before falling uselessly toward the ground.
One of the shooters kept going anyway.
I waited a few seconds, until he had almost completely emptied his magazine.
I finally materialized a rifle in my hands.
The black metal formed from my palm all the way to the muzzle, crossed by the same glowing red lines that characterized every weapon created by my magic.
I braced the stock against my shoulder, briefly looked through the scope, and found the demon who was stubbornly continuing to shoot at me.
“You asked for it.”
I pulled the trigger, the magical projectile pierced his barricade and violently sent him backward.
The shots aimed at me decreased almost immediately.
Apparently education could work.
I descended behind my lines and landed in the middle of the road.
Several soldiers immediately moved around me without interrupting their fire.
Two knelt behind the wreck of a car while a third reloaded his weapon behind them.
One of my artificial officers approached.
He was slightly taller than the others and wore a cap instead of a helmet.
“Commander.
The enemy is attempting to pin our forces in the center.
Several groups are moving north and south.”
“I felt them.” I said while looking toward the buildings.
Crane wanted to surround me.
A most classic tactic.
Even if it was far from bad, it was predictable.
I crouched behind the wreck of a vehicle when several projectiles struck the metal.
A bullet pierced the door and passed only a few centimeters from my cap.
“Fuck, this cap is forty-two years old.”
The officer turned his head slightly toward me.
“Commander?”
“Nothing.” I said, standing up enough to observe the street.
“Let them advance.”
This time, the officer remained still for a fraction of a second.
“How far?”
“To warehouses four and six.
Gradually pull back the center.
I want them to think their attack is working.”
“And the flanking groups?”
I smiled.
“Those are precisely the reason I want them to continue.”
The officer understood immediately.
He placed two fingers against the side of his head and transmitted my instructions.
Within a few minutes, my soldiers began giving ground.
Not much, a few dozen meters.
Then more.
Crane’s men noticed.
Their shouting grew louder.
“They’re retreating!”
“Keep going, you bastards!”
“Crane was right!
The little bitch is finished!”
I raised an eyebrow.
“The little bitch.” Pfff…
Even after several decades, some things really never changed.
The enemy troops advanced, then accelerated.
That was precisely the problem with an army mostly made up of criminals who had been promised territory, money, and souls.
When victory seemed close, discipline disappeared.
I let another thirty seconds pass.
The first enemies moved beyond warehouse four.
Then fifty more.
A hundred.
I could feel their flanking groups moving through the side streets as well, convinced they would soon cut off our retreat.
Perfect.
I raised two fingers.
My officer was watching me.
I lowered them.
The world exploded around them.
Dozens of windows lit up simultaneously along the sides of the avenue.
My soldiers, hidden from the beginning inside the abandoned buildings, opened fire from the upper floors, rooftops, and alleys.
Crane’s forces stopped dead.
Then the chaos began.
Demons screamed as they searched for cover that no longer existed.
Some tried to go back while those behind them continued advancing, unable to understand what was happening.
The flanking groups discovered at the same moment that the streets they had taken were now blocked by my reserves.
I made a light machine gun appear in my hands while yelling, “Now, advance.”
My soldiers immediately stopped retreating.
They all turned around and the entire line moved forward again.
I rose above them.
This time, no one shot at me since they had other problems.
I saw a particularly massive demon knock down two of my soldiers before lifting a car and throwing it in their direction.
I extended my hand, created a barrier in front of them, and the vehicle smashed against the red surface with a metallic crash.
The demon looked up at me, shouting.
“You little bitch!”
“Original.”
I made the machine gun disappear and materialized something much larger.
A rocket launcher.
His expression changed.
“Oh, shi—”
I fired.
The explosion destroyed the façade behind him and threw several demons across the street.
I let the weapon dissolve between my fingers.
One thing had to be acknowledged about Hell: creating your own weapons was incredibly convenient.
A much more powerful rumbling interrupted my thoughts.
Something tore through the building on my left.
I abruptly turned my head and saw a huge black mass emerge from the rubble.
Bartholomew Crane.
He easily stood over four meters tall in his demonic form.
His body looked like a grotesque mixture of a man and an industrial machine, with metal plates welded directly to his flesh and two enormous arms ending in claws.
He walked through his own men without seeming to care about those he crushed.
“DEGURECHAFF!” His voice made the remaining windows vibrate.
I sighed.
Why did large demons always feel the need to shout my name?
I slowly descended until I was only a few meters above the street.
Crane spread his arms.
“Look around you, you little piece of shit!
Your time is over!”
I looked around and saw that HIS troops were surrounded.
Several of his vehicles were burning or completely unusable.
MY soldiers now occupied both sides of the avenue, ready to unleash a wall of bullets at any moment.
I turned my attention back to him.
“Bartholomew…”
“What?!”
“I sincerely think we are not looking at the same battle.” I said, making a gesture with my hand.
His face twisted.
He ripped a chunk of concrete from the ground and threw it at me.
I shifted in the air and the projectile passed beside me before crashing through a window.
“I’m going to rip that fucking smile off your little face!”
I actually felt my smile widen.
This damn demonic body had always tended to make my expressions far too visible.
“You know, I was quietly at home.”
Crane growled.
I continued while slightly raising my hands.
“I did not ask anything from you.
I did not attack your territory.
I did not touch your contracts.
I did not even refuse a business offer because, until this morning, I had managed the remarkable feat of not thinking about you for almost six months.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“And yet you decided to come attack my domain with nearly a thousand soldiers.”
I let my magic spread around me.
The surrounding air became heavier.
Crane felt it, and his expression changed slightly.
“So, since we are already here, I am going to offer you an opportunity you probably do not deserve.”
I pointed to the ground in front of him.
“Kneel.
Return the souls you took during your attack, hand over the contracts of those who participated in this little piece of stupidity, and leave my territory.”
Crane remained silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.
A huge, greasy laugh that echoed throughout the avenue.
“You think I’m afraid of you?!”
I looked at him.
“Yes.
And I think that is precisely why you brought so many people.”
His laughter stopped.
His claws clenched until thin lines of blood ran from his palms.
Hit.
“Go fuck yourself!” he said with a growl.
“That sounds like a refusal.” I said.
I raised my eyes toward the sky.
Then I extended my hand, letting my magic spread through the air.
A red circle appeared above us.
Crane frowned.
Then a second circle opened, a third, a fourth, a fifth.
The conversations and screams gradually died down around us.
Even some of my soldiers temporarily stopped firing because the enemy forces had simply frozen.
The circles continued appearing in the red sky.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
The space inside each one warped like the surface of black water.
Then the first cannons began to emerge.
Enormous artillery barrels slowly slid out of the portals, surrounded by red energy.
Some resembled the heavy pieces I had known in my former life.
Others had, over the decades, become steel monsters that probably could never have been built by human hands.
I looked at Crane.
For the first time since his arrival, he was no longer saying anything.
“Do you know what I appreciate about artillery?” I asked.
He looked up toward the cannons.
I smiled wider.
“It allows useless conversations to end very quickly.”
Crane took a step back.
“Wait!
We can negotiate!”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Well now.
I offered to negotiate thirty seconds ago.”
“Fuck, Degurechaff, I—”
I snapped my fingers and the sky roared.
The first pieces fired simultaneously.
Red light swallowed the avenue.
The ground lifted under the violence of the impacts and a shockwave tore through the entire district.
The windows that were still intact exploded, vehicles were thrown like toys, and the abandoned buildings disappeared behind a wall of dust, flames, and debris.
I remained suspended above my lines, protected by a barrier that trembled under the successive shockwaves.
The artillery continued pounding the enemy positions with an almost hypnotic regularity.
When I finally closed the portals, a strange silence fell over the area.
Almost nothing remained of the avenue.
The road had become a succession of smoking craters.
Several buildings had partially collapsed and flames licked the façades that were still standing.
I slowly descended.
My boots touched the ground at the edge of a crater and I saw something move at the bottom.
Crane.
He was still alive.
Well, conscious enough.
A large part of his natural armor had disappeared and one of his arms was completely gone.
He tried to get back up before collapsing heavily.
I approached him with small steps.
His eyes fixed on me and this time, I saw no anger in them.
Only fear.
“You… monster…”
I stopped in front of him.
Around us, my soldiers were already leaving their positions.
Some were finishing the fights still underway, while others gathered the surviving enemies.
I looked at Crane for a few seconds.
Then I spoke.
“You came to my home with an army to steal my souls and take my territory.”
I crouched in front of him, close enough for him to perfectly see my smile.
“And now I’m the monster?”
Crane spat black blood onto the ground.
“Go… fuck yourself.”
I let out a small laugh.
“At least you’re consistent.”
I stood up and calmly brushed off my cape.
One of my officers approached.
“Commander.
The remaining enemy forces are asking to surrender.”
“Accept.” I said.
My gaze still on Crane.
Crane violently turned his head.
“No!
You cowards!
Get up!
I order you to—”
I placed my boot on his chest and pushed him back into the bottom of the crater.
“Your turn is over, Bartholomew.”
I then looked at my officer.
“Disarm them.
Those who have no contract with Crane may leave after interrogation.
For the others, I want the complete list of their obligations before deciding anything.”
“Understood.”
He walked away.
Crane was still looking at me.
“You think this is over?”
I sighed.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“The speech.”
He frowned.
“What fucking speech?”
“The one where you explain to me that you have allies, that someone will avenge you, that I’m going to regret this day, and all the other bullshit people in your situation seem contractually obligated to recite.”
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
A soldier arrived behind me carrying a metal object.
My lovely thermos.
I blinked.
“You actually brought it?”
The soldier held it out to me.
“Your coffee, Commander.”
I took the thermos.
Then I looked at the ruins around us.
Craters were still smoking.
Several hundred demons were groaning, fleeing, or surrendering.
Crane was half-buried in front of me and my artillery had just turned part of the border into a lunar landscape.
I unscrewed the lid and found that the coffee was still hot.
I took a sip.
“Perfect.”
Crane stared at me with an expression I could not immediately identify.
“You’re completely fucking insane.”
I shrugged.
“You interrupted my coffee.”
I took a second sip before looking over the damage more carefully.
Part of the road would have to be rebuilt.
Two warehouses were definitely lost and I suspected several underground pipelines had just been pulverized.
I let out a sigh.
More expenses.
That was what no one explained to you when they talked about becoming an Overlord.
Everyone imagined the souls, the power, the territories, the massacres, and the spectacular demonstrations.
No one ever talked about the fucking repairs after the battle.
I looked at Crane.
All of this because one idiot had decided that my peace and quiet looked like weakness.
He would have to be reminded of the difference.
And this time, I intended to make sure all of Pentagram City heard the lesson.