Chapter 33
Oxenarrikhon — or King Ox as the adoring masses of the Third Ring referred to him — stood at the edge of the plateau on top of the hill, his eyes narrowing, his gaze fixed on the town of Scaragar just over a league’s distance on the next hill. He couldn’t see any individual demons at this distance, but he didn’t have to. The new lord of the Fourth Ring, that scrawny runt, was there, and from his royal camp he had set up on in this small plateau, he would keep an eye on her while a million minotaurs, hellwolves, cavers and others worked tirelessly to make the wretched hill crumble, and the cursed city fall. It was as it should be: the brat, whom he had failed to break once, had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and if it took collapsing the entire hill to get to her, then so be it. He’d drag her body out of the rubble to make sure she was dead. He didn’t imagine the little runt could have arranged an heir in such a short time, so the title would be up in the air for a while, but it would also throw the place into chaos; the Fourth Ringers giving into their instincts to fight over scraps. With Ugrathar and his champion gone, he was sure he was the highest-level demon present in the Fourth, which meant after seven days he would receive the title by virtue of being the most powerful being in the realm. Then, with two Rings of Hell under his control, the proud demonic minotaur race would finally have enough room and resources, and things would be manageable once again. It was a plan that could not fail; he had the numbers, he had the will, and he had the …
‘Again? What in the five rings is that?’ King Ox muttered, his eyes narrowing even more as he noticed the flying creature. ‘Bovinarros! Bovi!’ he yelled for his aide.
‘My king?’ the aide stepped out of the tent and rushed to his king’s side.
Oxenarrikhon grabbed him by his horn, forcing his head to turn into the direction he was looking, and pointed into the distance where the small creature rose to the air from the city on the neighbouring hill.
‘What is that?’ the king demanded. ‘And if you give me the same answer as yesterday, I will throw you over the edge and let your body rot down there for all to see!’
He had been lenient enough over the past few days when neither his aide not his generals had any answers, but no more.
‘My … my king, it is … I’m told it is a flying creature the enemy sends out to scout and to report our movements and actions.’
‘And care to tell me why no-one has shot it down yet? Aren’t there any archers in my armies? Aren’t there any mages who are capable of lobbing rocks and hitting a small creature in the air?’
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‘They have tried, my king, every time it was spotted.’ Bovinarros reported. ‘It is a nimble creature, and so far it has escaped.’
‘Hm.’ King Ox grunted in his annoyance.
Incompetent, weak fools. He hated to admit it, but the population of the Third Ring had grown so much over the past century that the realm was no longer able to provide enough EXP or food for everyone. At this point, even if half of all minotaurs killed the other half for EXP, it wouldn’t make a difference. King Ox sighed; the only advantage he had was quantity. It had served him well so far; overrunning the Fourth had been almost effortless, and he could still ignore losses for the time being. But the lack of individual power and quality amongst his troops was enough to fan his anger and frustration. Why wasn’t there anyone who could swat that flying pest out of the sky? Did they really expect him to waste his own power on something like this?
He looked down at the masses surrounding the hill on which the city stood; it would take some time, but tens of thousands of his troops were hacking away at it with any tools or weapons they could get their hands on, mages were exhausting themselves to chip away at the hard stone, all under the protection of the wooden, overhead structures they had built and kept building. It was a matter of time.
He turned to Bovinarros, and the aide flinched.
‘Tell everyone to work twice as hard and twice as fast!’ he ordered him.
‘Yes, my king,’ he replied and turned to leave, but then didn’t move.
‘What is it?’ King Ox demanded, glaring at his aide.
‘Uhm … my King, I got a report from General Oxorranokh. He is at Garoshek. He says something is happening there, and he might need the rest of his army back.’
‘Something is happening? Is that it? There is always something happening everywhere. He is a general, he should handle it.’ King Ox stated.
‘He says the city-dwellers are attempting to break out, and they’re well organised.’ Bovinarros elaborated.
King Ox considered it for a moment, and for the first time in a long time he called up the map of the Fourth Ring in his mind. Garoshek, huh? A city of no particular importance, surrounded by at least thirty thousand of his soldiers under General Oxorranokh’s command. An estimated population of twelve thousand fire and ice demons? What could they do? Even if they succeeded to break out, they’d suffer tremendous losses. The most important objective was Scaragar and the ruling demon lord — everything hinged on this place now — and King Ox couldn’t see how a small city’s worth of enemy troops could threaten his vast armies surrounding that objective.
‘Tell the general all he needs to do is to hold and fight to the last minotaur if need be!’ He told his aide. ‘Victory or loss will be decided here, not at some insignificant city.
‘Right away, my King.’ Bovinarros bowed and turned to leave once again.
King Ox snorted; even now, the right to rule this wretched Ring practically in his hands, the high and mighty fire-demons still tried, grasping at hopes that didn’t exist. How pitiful. How arrogant. How futile. He turned his attention back to the hill and the city on it and began to lose his temper again as he saw the flying creature, a small dot in the distance, zig-zagging in the air above his armies.
‘Bovinarros!’ he yelled, calling his aide back so he wouldn’t have to punch one of his personal guards again.
