A general born to rule

A race against time

The medics moved swiftly between the rows of wounded soldiers, checking for injuries, stabilizing the worst cases, and giving reassurances to those whose minds were rattled by the intense combat. Fresh recruits were being processed, quickly briefed, and sent to the front to replace the fallen. There was no time to dwell on the losses—only the next battle mattered.

Daniel, who had been traveling with the latest convoy of supplies, leaped off one of the trucks as it rolled into the base. He immediately began unloading crates of ammunition, medical supplies, and food rations, helping distribute them to the soldiers waiting in the trenches. Every second was crucial, and Daniel's team moved like a well-oiled machine, working under the pressure of knowing that another wave could hit at any moment.

"Keep moving, people! The next wave could be on us any minute!" Daniel shouted, his voice a mixture of urgency and determination. He passed a crate to one of his team members and then turned to help secure the truck for its return trip. The soldiers around him were tense but focused, each knowing the importance of their role in this brutal war.

Meanwhile, deep in the Abyssal Dominion, Demon Emperor Malakaroth sat in his dark throne room, reading the reports from the battlefield. His crimson eyes glowed with a malicious satisfaction as he scanned the details. Despite the recent setbacks, his demons had inflicted heavy losses on the Valorcrest forces. He believed that with just a few more waves, they would be able to crush their enemy's defenses and drive them out of the trenches entirely.

"They're holding... but not for long," Malakaroth growled to himself, tossing the report aside. His dark, towering figure cast an imposing shadow over the stone floor of his palace.

His daughter, Selene, stood nearby, her piercing, intelligent eyes locked on her father. She was the perfect image of lethal beauty, her dark hair cascading down her back, her demon wings folded neatly behind her. Nyx, her most trusted companion, stood at her side—a ferocious female hell wolf in humanoid form, her eyes gleaming with both loyalty and a predatory hunger. Both Selene and Nyx had their minds set on one thing: capturing Daniel. Something about him drew them in, and they had vowed to find him, no matter the cost.

As Malakaroth paced the room, he turned to Selene and Nyx. "I have a task for you," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "The next wave will buy us time, but it won't be enough. We need to weaken their supply lines. Cut them off, and they'll wither away. Take your brother, Drexorn, with you. His methods may be cruel, but they will be effective."

Drexorn, Malakaroth’s eldest son, was notorious for his cruelty even among demons. His sadistic tendencies and brutal combat style made him feared by enemies and allies alike. He was a towering figure with blackened horns and crimson armor, always eager for the chance to spill blood.

Selene nodded, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Consider it done, Father. We’ll make sure Valorcrest starves before they even see the next sunrise."

Nyx, silent as always, nodded in agreement, her sharp fangs glinting as she grinned. Drexorn, who had just entered the throne room, smirked. "Finally, something fun," he sneered, his voice dripping with malevolence. "I've been itching to see those humans break."

With their orders given, Selene, Nyx, and Drexorn began their preparations, ready to strike at the heart of the enemy’s supply lines.

Back on the front lines, Daniel and his team were on the move again, driving the supply trucks back toward the base to gather more goods for the soldiers entrenched at the front. Despite the danger, they were determined to keep the supplies flowing—without them, the front lines would crumble.

In another part of the base, Sam was hard at work in his makeshift hangar, overseeing the construction of new aircraft. A Bell UH-1, AH-1 Cobra, and a prototype of the AH-64 Apache were being tested and prepped for action. Sam knew they desperately needed stronger close air support. The skies were thick with demons, and though the A-10 Thunderbolts were doing their best to suppress the waves, it wasn’t enough. These helicopters had to be ready in time.