Philip stood atop the highest spire of the Demon Castle, gazing down at the endless waves of his army, stretching far beyond the dark horizon.
Unlike the reckless onslaught of the first day, today was different. The humans had proven themselves more resilient than expected, and Philip knew he could not rely on sheer numbers alone. He had learned his lesson. He had to outthink them, outmaneuver them, and crush their morale before they even stepped foot on the battlefield.
He turned to his generals, his voice sharp as a blade. "Assemble the army and fortify the shield formation on all four sides of the castle. Do not attack like headless idiots. Today, we defend first and then annihilate."
The demon generals, clad in their grotesque armors, nodded in unison. One of them, a massive warlock with black horns twisting skyward, stepped forward. "My Lord, what about our ghosts? They thirst for human souls."
