Back from Yanhuang Star, I had each legion commander transformed first. Then I swapped out Chinese troops with reserves and shipped them to Yanhuang Star. Now I've got a secret weapon to strike the enemy's heart with a fatal blow.
These past ten days have been hell. Didn't expect the dragon curse to drain so much mental energy. Years of training, even "dual cultivation" with my wives to boost my spirit, and I'm still half-dead after a few days. Mornings, I'm full of vigor; nights, I'm a wilted husk carried back. Men cry, cry, it's not a sin.
Even with all the human realm's top mages, we've only transformed 20,000 of the 65,000. My god, how long will this take? War waits for no one. Then it hit me: dragons absorb energy directly, so I just need to supply energy blocks. I gave each of the thirty-plus dragon casters a thumb-sized high-energy crystal. Boom—progress skyrocketed.
Five days later, we finished the rest. The transformed warriors rejoined their units.
"Your Majesty, great news! You asked me to scout for inhabited planets, right? Using our old trick—teleporting dogs to check coordinates—we found something. Guess what? We located the god clan's homeworld!" Cohen said, grinning.
"No way! When luck hits, you can't not strike gold!" This was huge. Found the gods' lair? Let's see you flex now. Maybe I'll lob a few shells at your home turf. They're busy in the demon realm, right? Perfect—fire some missiles at the god realm, slow their roll, and… heh. Act fast. "Cohen, prep a few large Flying Dragon warships with old-school missiles," I ordered. "Majesty, those outdated things? Swatting space mosquitoes?" Cohen asked, puzzled.
"Nah, you got it wrong. You said we found the god realm, right? Let's go give 'em a warm hug," I said, smirking. "Got it!" Cohen's sly grin showed he was all in. He's a mad scientist—too bold for Earth's nations, but my black society doesn't flinch. His wild ideas fueled Yellow Dragon Group's breakthroughs. Without him, we'd still be stuck on Earth.
"Check startup gear status. Check wiring. Check life pods…" the captain barked orders methodically.
"Startup gear normal." "Wiring normal." "Life pods normal." Reports rolled in.
"HQ, this is DFL-1 warship. Send god realm coordinates. Spatial teleport in twenty seconds. Over," the captain radioed. (DFL: Large Flying Dragon warship, got it?)
"Request approved. Coordinates uploaded. Safe return to all crew," replied a synthesized female voice—our self-developed Flying Dragon mainframe, "Bbi," with basic AI, human-machine dialogue, and self-upgrading systems.
"Energy charged. Teleport in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." A gentle jolt, and we're above the god realm planet. The wall-screen showed the surface in stunning detail. Words can't capture it: white trees, green grass, vibrant wildflowers dotting forests, plains, hills. Unknown animals pranced joyfully. A true paradise.
The god king's a bastard, hoarding this Eden while eyeing poorer lands. As the Chinese say, "A snake's greed swallows an elephant." Are all sentient beings in power doomed to crave control, basking in worship? I'm not much better—same deal. "Fire on the open fields below," I told the captain. "Yes, sir." Soldiers obey, even if it pains them to mar this poetic vista. Mushroom clouds rose. Gods swarmed from all directions. Good thing I'm not a psycho slaughtering civilians. "Return," I ordered. "Yes, sir." After that stunt, the god king's got his hands full. Firing on gods? Heh, honor's small, face is everything.
"Who's the bastard responsible? Find him—I'll tear him to shreds!" the god king roared in his temple. God realm ministers silenced and scurried out. He hadn't been this mad in millennia. Whoever did this was toast, given his ruthless methods. Ministers sweated, quickening their pace. Rumor has it: the god king was "plowing hard" to boost the realm's sparse population when those dozen thunderous booms startled him, leaving his "brother" limp. Facing his consort's disappointed gaze, he lost face and swore to hunt the culprit.
Still fuming, the god king gnashed his teeth on his throne.
On my warship, I sneezed. Who's thinking of me? Too many women, too much trouble. If Feitian knew it was the god king's burning obsession, would he still be so cocky?
Back on Flying Dragon Star, I dove into final war prep, especially reorganizing the tens of thousands of dragon warriors to maximize their impact. The god king's distracted by my stunt, so I can focus on the demons.
In the demon realm, the demon king stood triumphantly atop the demon palace gates, addressing his ready troops. "Demon warriors! The vile gods shamelessly ambushed us, seizing Yelu City. They rape and pillage, committing every evil while posing as justice incarnate. Bah! Can we let these scum slide?"
"No!" the demon soldiers roared.
"Can we let the murderers of our kin roam free?"
"No!"
"Demon warriors, today you wield the sword of justice, carrying our race's hopes. Blessed by the Great Demon God, we'll crush the wicked gods and make them pay in blood!" the king bellowed, fired up.
"Blood for blood! Blood for blood!" The troops screamed, frenzied. Led by Yuri, one of the four demon god-generals, with Lalan as deputy, the army marched toward Yelu City. Riding side by side, Lalan mused, "Yuri, what's the gods' game? First, they send 40,000, now they're holed up in the city. Luring us into a trap?"
"Gods have low numbers. The 40,000 we crushed was likely most of their vanguard. After that loss, with no reinforcements, they're stuck defending passively. Didn't they loot nearby villages' grain? I wasn't sure at first, but their moves confirm it. Gods can teleport, but solo? They'd be too weak to fight here—easy kills. Their ambush proves they came with strength, likely via magic array, borrowing others' power. That means about 100,000 troops. Too few to openly attack Yelu's 200,000 defenders, so they sneaked," Yuri analyzed clearly. Lalan nodded, impressed. Trank's the famed strategist among the four, but Yuri's no slouch. His burly look screams brute, not brains, unlike Trank's refined air, so "strategist" fits Trank better. In past god wars, Yuri's bulk fooled gods into thinking him a meathead, costing them dearly. Trank and Yuri bicker constantly, roasting each other for fun, but they respect one another, so the demon king lets it slide.
"By now, god reinforcements should've arrived. It's been nearly a month," Lalan said. "True. We should've moved sooner. Teleporting 100,000 takes a massive array, draining casters who need rest before more jumps. But now, they've likely recovered 90% of their magic," Yuri said, worried.
"General, no god traces within ten li ahead," a scout reported, saluting. "They spotted us?" Yuri muttered. "Keep scouting, at least ten li beyond the army," he ordered. "Yes, sir!" The scout rode off.
"Stay sharp. Archers inside, shields out, dragon cavalry on air patrol," Yuri commanded, relaxing slightly.
Demon Realm, Yelu City Lord's Manor
Gaga listened to a scout's report: "Lord Angel, two demon legions, 600,000 strong, approach Yelu City, less than 100 li away." "Keep probing," Gaga ordered.
"Someone!" he called. An angel entered. "Any orders, sir?" "Has General Fenna returned?" Gaga asked. "Not yet, sir," the angel replied respectfully. "Go," Gaga waved, irritated. Is Fenna's dragon clan mission a bust? Where's Lord Seraph? Something happen? No way—god realm's untouchable. Fenna's my only hope. If he fails, my 50,000 troops have to fight to the death. No other way. (Dumb move—guerrilla tactics, hello? Per the classics: "Ask me, I'll show you a way out." Gaga: "What's your price?" Classics: "Nothing much. Holiday tributes—dozens of stunning beauties, rare treasures, maybe a bit. Oh, and if you find Earth, beat the crap out of some guy named Teng Yun. That jerk ghosted me after blowing up my phone. Hey, what's wrong?" Gaga faints, frothing. "My demands are simple!" Classics scratches head.)
"Lord Angel!" Fenna burst in, panting, no knock. "Fenna, you're back! How'd it go with the dragons?" Gaga grabbed his hand. "They refused. Said they won't ally with gods until they pick a new leader," Fenna said weakly. "How'd this happen?" Gaga deflated, lost. "They said in the last God-Demon War, gods betrayed them, causing heavy losses. They're still recovering and want gods to stay away," Fenna added. "Betrayal? That old Creator jerk exiled us to the god realm—think we wanted that?" Gaga shouted, insulted. "I told them, they wouldn't budge," Fenna said, crestfallen.
"No choice, we fight. Hope Lord Seraph arrives in time, or we're done—nothing gained," Gaga said, heartbroken. "It's those humans' fault. If they'd cooperated, it'd benefit both sides. Why can't they see? Selfish pricks," Fenna spat. Never mind his terms were absurd—he blames others, not himself. Gods aren't perfect either.
"We prep, or our old rivals will think us rude," Gaga said. With no options, he readied for the demons, leveraging Yelu City's walls. Demons wouldn't dare wreck their own city's millions of civilians, right? No big demon magic here—gods can hit, demons can't. Downside? Gods are vastly outnumbered, and demons have magic dragons. Despite daydreams, Gaga's a sharp tactician, quickly assessing strengths and weaknesses, prepping fast. (Magic Dragon: Demon realm's strongest creature, lowest dragon tier, winged, excels in dark magic.)
After five days' march, the demon army reached Yelu City by noon. "I'm Yuri, demon commander. Send your general!" Yuri's bellow shook dust from the gates. Gods scrambled, calming after a while. High-tier angels appeared at the gate, the middle one saying, "I'm Lord Angel Gaga, vanguard general of the gods. Greetings, Generals Yuri and Lalan."
"Not bad, you know us. Easy talk, then. Surrender or fight?" Yuri said, oozing dominance. "Heh, General, we're outnumbered but ready to die fighting," Gaga shot back. "Sounds like we're bullying you. General Gaga, your gods invaded our realm, using despicable, shameless sneak attacks to take Yelu City. Am I wrong?" Yuri's words tanked Gaga's hard-won morale.
Gods pride themselves as justice's light. Acting against their creed? Hard to justify. Seeing morale dip, Gaga shouted, "Crushing evil demons is our duty! War's not static—no rule bans ambushes. Only victory or defeat matters!"
"Well said! Didn't you gods call me despicable, shameless, vile? Why's it different when it's you? No wonder gods are such bastards now—even humans don't respect you. Poor God King, how pitiful," Yuri mocked, feigning pity. Demons roared with laughter.
"You… you…" Gaga nearly choked with rage. Then, battle cries erupted from the east gate. It clicked: Yuri's banter was a distraction, crushing morale and diverting attention. His real target was the east gate. Gaga cursed himself—Yuri's "600,000" was a bluff; only about 100,000 were here. His blunder trapped the gods. Spitting blood, he pointed at Yuri. "You're the epitome of despicable, shameless filth!"
"Haha, flattery! I liked you at first sight, General. Let's have a nice chat later!" Yuri gloated, waving. "Attack!" Demons surged like a tide, magic and arrows flying.
"Charge! Slaughter the vile demons!" Gaga led, slicing down a demon scaling the wall. "Don't strain yourself, General Gaga! We've got that chat planned—don't do anything rash!" Yuri taunted, his goofy expression absurd.
"Keep gloating, kid. I'll use your head as a wine cup!" Gaga snapped.
"Such horror! Would justice's bright gods do that? You're not scaring me, are you, General?" Yuri played terrified, making Lalan behind him laugh like a blooming flower. This wasn't war—it was a street brawl. Yuri's a riot, honing his trash talk here. Against the gods' prim dignity, Gaga, no match for Trank's millennia of sparring, stood no chance.
Face red with fury, Gaga stopped talking, unleashing magic and martial skills, cutting down demons on the wall to vent his rage.