Madness.

This war had spiraled into utter madness.

The number of hobgoblins the kingdom had sacrificed in this conflict had reached an unfathomable figure.

Mige understood that while the population of asuras and orcs in the kingdom had grown significantly, the goblin race remained the most numerous, followed by the sylphs.

Yet, the war against the demons, not even a year old, had already wiped out nearly a quarter of the hobgoblin population. If this continued, internal chaos within the kingdom was inevitable.

Even a child could see how the marginalization of the goblin race had begun to take root. Naturally, the goblins themselves were aware of this as well.

Still, the kingdom continued to use hobgoblins as cannon fodder in their deadly guerrilla strategies.

The goblins’ trust in Nedira and Ez was still strong enough to quell open dissent, but for how much longer would protests remain mere whispers and rumors? Sooner or later, those murmurs would grow into a wave of revolution and rebellion.

As the head of provisioning and supply, Mige didn’t know exactly when that time would come.

But seeing the rising toll of casualties, he felt it was close.

If things carried on like this, the kingdom wouldn’t just be fighting demons on the front lines; it would also have to contend with uprisings at home.

Though no one had openly shared these thoughts with him, Mige wasn’t blind. He could see the unspoken intentions of their king.

A culture that revered strength above all else.

A historical curriculum that glorified the orcs’ superiority and grandeur.

The church’s designation of the asuras as sacred beings.

All of these elements were subtly shaping a generation of goblins who loved and idolized the asuras yet despised their own race. The result was clear: the number of Valkyries from the goblin race continued to rise, while fewer and fewer goblin women were willing to marry goblin men.

From Mige’s position, the entire picture was plain as day. And if he could see it, surely Ez and Nedira could as well.

Yet instead of preventing it, the two of them actively supported it. If they endorsed it, then as an asura, Mige felt he had no right to oppose their decision.

He understood that Moku’s plan was a long-term one. It would require time and patience for the popularity of the orcs and asuras to grow while the goblins’ prominence faded quietly and unnoticed.

Changing someone’s mindset was an arduous task, especially when that mindset had been ingrained over generations.

The first step was to eliminate the influence of the older generation who still clung tightly to the old ways.

After that, the younger generation had to be distanced from their parents’ teachings and educated with values aligned with the kingdom’s vision.

In time, this new generation would replace the old culture with the new one, embracing it as the truth.

However, everything had to be done carefully and gradually. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Otherwise, the older generation, still wielding influence, would recognize what was happening and fight back against the change. If that happened, the effort to "reprogram" the younger generation would fail.

Mige was confident that, given just a few more years, Moku’s plan would succeed flawlessly.

But unfortunately for them... a great war had erupted.

Mige knew that the war, known as the Second Species Mana War, was unavoidable for the kingdom.

The Bog Forest, where they resided, was a natural bridge between humans and demons.

Like it or not, the territory had to serve as a buffer zone between these two great powers.

The Wilwatikta Kingdom had no choice but to involve itself in the conflict if it wished to maintain sovereignty over its domain. However, the disparity in strength between Wilwatikta and the two other Mana Species was staggering.

They wouldn’t even have earned a seat at the negotiating table—if not for Moku’s cunning deception of Artur’s team. But a lie was just that: a lie. Sooner or later, the truth would surface.

No matter how carefully they tried to erase their tracks, breadcrumbs would always lead those who sought the truth back to them.

And indeed, the arrival of Furfur, intercepting Moku, was proof that time was running out.

If only they could have used humans and elves as shields in this war, the kingdom might have gained a substantial advantage.

However, Furfur’s threat robbed them of that opportunity. The less-than-a-year timeframe predicted by Ez felt like standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. What should have been a proving ground for the Wilwatikta Kingdom to sharpen its fangs had turned into a nightmare.

All asuras who had reached the Third Evolution Gate were recalled. They were ordered to prepare to break through to the next gate. Their current mission was to hunt every mutated animal in the Bog Forest to gather the mana organs needed.

Moku needed to ascend to the spiritual realm before the war with the humans began.

He also had to climb to the peak of Hargo Dumilah and achieve power that might rival Furfur’s, at least to a degree that would allow further negotiations. But Mige knew that behind Furfur lurked an even more terrifying figure: Those Who Came Before, The Sin of Envy, Lucifer.

Mige had heard the tales of a Level 9 Constellation Mage’s power. Such beings were the embodiment of divine strength in this world.

Their abilities defied logic, capable of altering reality itself. They could not be killed, as their power was tied to abstract concepts.

Much like light.

Even if the sun were destroyed, light would persist because light wasn’t an object—it was a concept.

If Lucifer’s power stemmed from the sin of envy, he would continue to exist as long as that sin remained in the world. To Mige, this was something beyond comprehension.

Yet, there was one thing he understood clearly: this war was devastating for the hobgoblins.

Though the asuras at the First and Second Evolution Gates were powerful, they could not face thousands of demons at once.

Ambush strategies were the only effective method. But it was unthinkable to use the asuras, the kingdom’s most valuable military assets, as bait. As a result, that burden fell to the hobgoblins, leading to the staggering number of casualties among their ranks.

"Sigh..."

Mige massaged his temples, then placed the report in his hand onto the desk in front of him.

Before he could pick up the next document, a knock came at the door.

Quickly, he activated his Inner Eyes to confirm that the person outside was an ally, not an enemy in disguise. Once assured, he granted permission to enter.

"Report, sir! Five guerrilla squads have been wiped out in the Eagle Sector! Only one hobgoblin survived!"

"Huh?"

Mige’s shock wasn’t due to the report of five guerrilla squads being wiped out in the Eagle Sector.

Losing five squads was not an everyday occurrence, but given the escalating chaos of the war, it wasn’t entirely surprising either. What puzzled him was why this report was delivered to him directly rather than through the usual documentation process.

The asura standing before him clearly didn’t belong to the provisioning and supply division under his command.

He was from the war strategy planning division, a direct subordinate of Boku. This fact deepened the furrow on Mige’s brow and brought a serious expression to his face.

If Boku had sent a message through an envoy, it meant something urgent was at hand.

"What is this about?" Mige asked, his voice low yet firm.

"We found something unusual at the location. I hope you have time to take a look," the asura replied, handing him a piece of parchment.

Mige exhaled deeply, a growing sense of foreboding tightening in his chest. He accepted the parchment and unfolded it slowly.

This wasn’t ordinary parchment made from animal hide. It was the product of Moku’s Vivid Dream, crafted with his Mind Realm power.

Using this ability, Moku could replicate mana organs from mutated animals in unlimited quantities, provided his dragon prana reserves sufficed.

However, replicas were still just that—replicas. While they resembled the real thing, they couldn’t be consumed to absorb mana.

Yet such imitations had their uses.

For instance, the parchment in Mige’s hands was made from the replicated hide of a mutated chameleon, which possessed the ability to absorb mana and change colors.

This technology was used to record images and movements. With the shared vision abilities of sylphs and druids, real events could be imprinted onto its surface.

Moku called this innovation the mana printing press.

When Mige fully opened the parchment, his face darkened. The image depicted on its surface made his heart race.

Trees were reduced to blackened charcoal, the ground cracked and scorched with burnt patches. Bodies appeared to have been incinerated at such extreme temperatures that they disintegrated into ash instantly, scattered by the wind, disappearing among the beams of light piercing the forest canopy.

This was the work of a high-tier spell.

Mige didn’t need to deliberate long. Likely, only Moku’s Giant Brajadenta could produce such devastating effects. That meant someone with power equal to or exceeding their king’s had deliberately annihilated the five guerrilla squads.

But something felt off.

If the perpetrator could pinpoint their guerrilla routes, it meant they had deep insight into Wilwatikta’s combat strategies.

Yet, instead of targeting other sectors or striking at the asuras—the kingdom’s most valuable assets—the perpetrator had singled out five hobgoblin squads, mere cannon fodder in this war.

Mige studied the image on the parchment closely, his right hand clenching unconsciously. "This isn’t provocation," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"This is a warning."

His face grew pale.

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