Only five minutes had passed, yet William had already surveyed the terrain within a dozen kilometers on the other side of the portal. The central region of the opposing divine realm exhibited severe wind erosion patterns—barren, vegetation-scarce lands reeking of sulfur, inhabited solely by twisted creatures. Only demonic followers could thrive in such hellish conditions. The periphery, however, consisted of fertile grasslands teeming with ordinary vassals and beasts, perfect for large-scale warfare given demons' preference for feeding on flesh and souls.
Observing scattered ogres, werewolves, and cannon-fodder troops gathering around his portal, William grinned dangerously. Lex had already advised him: no genocide of core followers, no destruction of the divine core—everything else was permissible. Tugging the threads of faith, he summoned half a billion leaping Zerglings (split evenly between flying and mutated variants) alongside 20,000 Thunder Beasts toward the portal.
"Five years of grinding to expand my realm to four million square kilometers," William mused, eyeing the four enemy portals disgorging nearly a million troops. "But swallowing their entire territory today? That’s exponential growth." With Thunder Beasts now positioned at his portal’s edge, he gave the order: "Advance."
Instantly, the seething Zerg tide erupted through the portal. Mutated Zerglings intermingled with towering Thunder Beasts surged forth like a living tsunami, while airborne swarms spiraled overhead, blotting out the sun with their sheer numbers. The encroaching shadow froze the hearts of even the dimmest ogre and most bloodthirsty werewolf.
For Varek the hyena-man, the nightmare began twenty years ago when his world fell to these very insects. Transported as war captives to this new realm, his people had dwindled from 150,000 to under 50,000 under ogre predation. Now leading the last 10,000 hyena-warriors through their god’s portal, he froze when a familiar 20cm winged insect zipped past—an acidic memory from his youth.
"We’re doomed," Varek whispered, claws trembling as his short sword clattered to the ground. The young warrior beside him barely had time to question before the sky darkened.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The Zerg tide obliterated the makeshift siege perimeter instantly. Four-meter ogres vanished beneath chitinous waves, though a few two-headed variants glowed faintly with defensive magic, briefly resisting—until 15-ton Thunder Beasts trampled them into pulp. Even these elite ogres only lasted seconds; their resilient hides withstood individual Zergling claws but crumpled under Thunder Beast scythe-limbs that left bone-deep gashes before the swarm finished them.
William observed clinically: common species stood no chance against Thunder Beasts, yet even mid-tier (transcendent beings) like two-headed ogres required specialized units to breach. Textbook examples of supreme defenders—dragons, archdemons, angels—would’ve withstood far longer. But today, quantity overwhelmed quality.
The hyena-men broke first. Varek didn’t even bother fleeing as the shadow engulfed his troop. "This is how gods die," he thought numbly, watching a Thunder Beast casually bisect a fleeing ogre chieftain. Around him, his kin disintegrated—limbs severed, torsos impaled, skulls cracked open for the Zerglings’ grisly feast. A flying Zerg speared the questioning young warrior through the chest mid-scream, acidic blood dissolving his corpse before impact.
Yet Varek remained untouched, the swarm parting around him like water. He realized with hysterical clarity—they remembered. Twenty years ago, he’d surrendered immediately when his god fell. Now, the insects recognized a broken foe. Collapsing amidst the carnage, he laughed shrilly as Thunder Beasts thundered past toward the enemy’s core, their earth-shaking strides heralding a god’s demise.
Meanwhile, William monitored the four-front assault. His Zerglings intentionally avoided extermination patterns, herding surviving ogres toward defensive clusters for Thunder Beasts to cripple. The plan was surgical: shatter military cohesion, seize territory, leave just enough followers for the enemy god to technically survive—all while expanding his domain through annexed land.
A flicker on the western front caught his attention—a contingent of lava hounds erupting from a secondary portal. "Thermal units," he noted, rerouting frost-adapted Zerglings. The dance continued; for every counter, the swarm adapted. This was no battle—it was a harvest.
As his territory markers bloomed across the stolen landscape, William smiled. Tonight, his realm would double. Tomorrow? Perhaps a new record. Let the teachers monitor—he’d show them what true efficiency looked like.
