According to the total number of troops marked on the map, there are indeed more than 1 million troops assembled by the Origin of Magic in Withollands. If some peripheral troops are also included, the total number should be close to 2 million.
It's a pity that no one dared to tell him that those troops were basically understaffed. A team of 10,000 people could have 4,000 soldiers, which was already considered a very good "formed" army.
As for the map placed in the magic origin room, it was from a few days ago. The situation on it has not changed, and the status of the marked troops has not been updated.
According to the latest situation this morning, several troops on this map no longer exist! They have been annihilated, and there is nothing left!
There are also some troops that have been severely damaged and have retreated from the defense lines in the outer suburbs. Some of the 10,000-strong troops that retreated still have hundreds of people left, and some have 1,000 people left. In short, they are very far away from the "ten-thousand-person troops".
Distant.
Now, the source of magic still doesn't know about these situations, and no one dares to tell him these things.
In the past, the origin of magic had loyal fanatics and white-robed divine servants. They could help the origin of magic control the demon clan and help him collect information and control the overall situation.
But now, almost all the fanatical believers have fallen on the road to the expedition, and nine out of ten of the white-robed divine attendants have also been wiped out.
Therefore, the origin of magic has lost control over the entire demon clan, and he has become the fallen king who was deceived on the throne.
Just like the head of state in 1945, he has been deceived by a bunch of false news. As a leader, he has lost his basic judgment on reality and no longer has a clear understanding in his mind.
This situation is no different from madness. In the eyes of others, the sleep talk is all nonsense, except for venting and useless roaring, without any meaningful command.
Swallowing again, the poor demon general couldn't remember how much of his own saliva he had swallowed.
He opened his mouth tremblingly and said in the lowest possible voice: "The great source of magic... We are organizing a counterattack, but we do not have a sufficient number of artillery and there is no way to form a local advantage."
Who would have known that his barely squeezed words would hit a painful point in the origin of magic.
In the early years, the demon leader took advantage of magic and military strength, and used his strong body and fearless ferocity to defeat countless opponents.
At that time, the origin of magic was like the god of this world, but who would have thought that now all this has become an illusion.
Aircraft and artillery have become indispensable weapons and equipment in war. Bravery and tenacity are worthless in the face of the torrent of steel.
The numerical advantage that the demon clan was once proud of has long since disappeared in the face of nuclear weapons and genetic weapons.
Where are the long swords? Where are the crossbows? Where are the earth-shattering magical cannons? Where are the majestic drums? Where are the long trumpets? The infantry phalanx that covers the wilderness, and the demonic air force that blocks the sky and the sun.
Woolen cloth?
To be honest, there are too many questions and too many angers in my mind about the origin of magic right now.
He tapped the map on the wall with his hand, and kept tapping. The dull sound seemed particularly abrupt and awkward in the basement, which was not spacious in the first place.
There is no way to use the hall that can make the sound sacred anymore. After all, there is no telling when a cannonball will fall and turn the place into a complete ruin.
The originally solid walls of the hall had long been covered with cracks, and the mottled marks were so shocking that no one dared to go there for meetings anymore.
No one spoke in the basement. In the past two days, everyone has become accustomed to letting the source of magic perform a one-man show.
Therefore, the source of magic is more willing to sing his one-man show. Anyway, we don't have a solution to the problem, so we can happily hurt each other together.
While banging on the wall, he continued to roar: "What a joke! Since when have demons relied on artillery to fight a war? We didn't have these messy weapons before! Aren't you invincible? Now, your courage has been frightened.
It's gone! Without cannons, you can't even fight!"
"But, the great source of magic... If we don't have the firepower advantage, our soldiers will suffer heavy losses. By then, we won't have enough troops to defend Withausland!" A demon general quickly explained.
.
Although he had no way to solve the problem that humans had surrounded Withollands from two sides, as a sergeant general, he still had the vision to judge the optimal solution under the current situation.
Humanity's long-range weapons are powerful and there are no fortifications and bunkers. If the demon's troops fight back, they will just deliver food. It is better to leave the troops in the ruins and consume them a little bit, maybe they can last longer.
"..." The source of magic stared at the demon general who was speaking. His sudden silence made everyone nervous.
According to past experience, this great source of magic will take action at this time to resolve this meeting by killing a demon general.
However, unexpectedly, the source of magic did not do that this time. He suddenly laughed, and his smile was creepy.
After laughing enough, he suddenly looked at the old demon general at the head and ordered: "Then don't fight back! Let all the demon troops be stationed in the positions they should be stationed in!"
"No order from me! No retreat!" He clenched his fists and ordered in an unquestionable voice.
"You can't take a step back without my order!" His cruel voice sounded in the basement, making all the demon generals shudder.
"You must hold on to every piece of ruins! Fight until the last person!" He ordered desperately, his voice full of terror.
It seemed that at this moment, he had given up on winning, or gave up on the idea of ​​continuing.
Now, all he thinks about is death and death together! He is planning to turn Withollands into a huge flesh and blood mill, where he will let demons and humans drain their blood together.
Once this terrible thought unfolds, it can never be taken back. So the source of magic continued to order: "If your position is lost, then you will die on the position!"
He emphasized his order, causing every demon who heard the order to break out in cold sweat: "I want every magic tower and every house to turn into a human tomb!"
"I want every inch of land here to be stained with blood!" He clenched his fists and ended the meeting with the bloodiest words: "Kill! Go kill! Go kill in a bloody storm!"
