The Guardian gods
Chapter 288

Chapter 288: 288

With a unified roar, the goblin and ogre warriors surged forward, their feet pounding the earth as they rushed toward the abyssal army. The archers on the rooftops released a volley of arrows that arced through the sky, raining down on the demons with deadly precision. Below, the spearmen advanced with disciplined steps, their formation unbroken as they moved to meet the enemy head-on.

The small goblins, now invisible to the naked eye, slipped past the main forces, their daggers glinting as they closed in on the slingshots and the huge imps defending them.

The tower master, witnessing the scene from afar, stood up with rage-filled eyes. "No, you brute!" he shouted, but it was already too late as the two armies clashed.

The village, with its 10,000 inhabitants, had mustered an army of about 4,000 under the village head’s command. The ogres, towering and formidable, tore through the abyssal army with ease, their brute strength and thick hides making the first-stage imps’ attacks nearly ineffective. As they moved closer to the slingshots, the imps’ only advantage was their overwhelming numbers, as they threw themselves relentlessly at the smaller ogre force.

However, the ogres were relentless. Their high resilience and rapid regeneration made them nearly unstoppable, shrugging off the damage done by the imps as they continued their advance.

Suddenly, the fifth-stage imp demon with multiple hands stopped what it was doing and moved through the portal, appearing in the other world. The land on the other side, already eroded by the abyss, was suitable for the demon to manifest its full power. The ogre army had already stepped into this corrupted land, their presence triggering the demon’s response.

The ogres were close to the slingshots when a small goblin emerged from the shadows, its dagger glinting as it plunged through the head of a large imp, killing it instantly. One by one, the imps guarding the slingshots fell, taken out by the goblins’ swift and precise strikes.

The village head, a towering figure even among the ogres, was about to bring his heavy sword down on one of the slingshots when the fifth-stage imp appeared before him. The encounter was brief but brutal—before the village head could react, the imp’s many hands wrapped around his head, and with a sickening crack, it popped his skull like a grape. The village head’s soul was drawn out and devoured by the demon, its eyes glowing with malevolent satisfaction.

The ogres, now seeing their leader slain, became enraged. Their eyes burned with fury as they turned their full attention to the fifth-stage imp. The small goblins, who had been targeting the imps, became the demon’s next target, but just as it reached for them, they were enveloped in a green light and teleported back to the safety of the mage tower.

With the goblins gone, the only ones left were the ogres, who, driven by a mix of grief and rage, hurled themselves at the fifth-stage imp.

The first ogre, a hulking brute wielding a massive club, reached the demon and swung with all his might. The weapon, capable of shattering boulders, hurtled toward the demon with tremendous force. But the fifth-stage imp didn’t even bother to dodge. Instead, one of its many arms shot out, catching the club mid-swing. The impact was negligible, barely even registering as a shudder through the demon’s arm. With a casual flick, it snapped the club in two, sending the ogre stumbling backward in shock; like the village head this orge met the same end as another hand shot out popping its head.

Right about when he was about to grab the soul, Zarvok said "Leave it, it will be of great need for the children"

The demon stopped it’s action when another ogre, his eyes blazing with fury, charged in from the side, hoping to catch the demon off-guard. He aimed a vicious slash at the demon’s legs, intending to cripple it. But before his blade could connect, another of the demon’s hands intercepted, catching the weapon with ease. The imp’s grip tightened, and with a sharp twist, it wrenched the blade from the ogre’s hands, splitting it in half with the blade and tossing it aside.

The ogres continued to fight with a desperation born of knowing they were outclassed. They lunged and swung, their roars filling the air, but it was like trying to fell a mountain with bare hands. The fifth-stage imp was untouchable, an unstoppable force that none of them could even scratch. Every attack they launched was met with effortless deflection or brutal counterattack.

The demon’s laughter, low and rumbling, filled the battlefield as it reveled in its superiority. It caught one ogre by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease, and squeezed until the life drained from the warrior’s eyes. Another ogre, attempting to sneak up from behind, found himself impaled by a spear-like arm that had shot out from the demon’s back.

The fifth-stage imp was a whirlwind of death, its many arms a blur as they dispatched ogre after ogre with cold efficiency. The ground beneath its feet was slick with blood, but the demon remained unscathed, untouched by the fury of the ogre assault. The ogres’ strength, their resilience, their numbers—none of it mattered against a foe of such overwhelming power.

As the last of the ogres fell, their bodies littering the battlefield, the fifth-stage imp stood victorious, its form towering over the carnage. Not a single scratch marred it’s red skin; the ogres had been utterly unable to wound it. The demon’s eyes, glowing with triumph, turned toward the distant mage tower, its lips curling into a predatory smile.

The tower master watched everything happen with cold eyes, the ogres were nothing but brutes. He had informed them of the sling to see if they could interfere with the demon falling from the sky, not to push towards the demon army.

The tower master held hope that this village would stand before the empire sent out the elite so they could rebuild this village into a strong wall to hold off the demon.

Now the fifth-stage demon was staring at his tower, knowing it was time to retreat. Dealing with a high-tier demon at this early stage of the invasion should be avoided.

Nonetheless, the land around this area would soon belong to the demons. The tower master disappeared from his position, reappearing at the core of the tower, where he placed his hand.

In the eyes of Ikenga and Zarvok, there was a sudden crack in the air before the tower vanished from where it had been.

Zarvok’s eyes narrowed as he watched the mage tower disappear from the battlefield. "Interesting," he muttered, his voice laced with curiosity rather than concern. "It seems these goblin mages have more tricks up their sleeves."

Ikenga, standing beside him, observed the now-empty spot where the tower had once stood. His mind raced, calculating the implications of what they had just witnessed. The sudden disappearance of the tower indicated a high level of magical prowess, far beyond what he had expected from goblins, even if they were using knowledge stolen from their former masters.

"They’re retreating," Ikenga remarked, his tone measured. "But not out of fear. They’re buying time, fortifying their defenses elsewhere."

Zarvok’s lips curled into a dark smile. "Let them run. It won’t save them. This land and this world are ours."

Ikenga looked at his sister. "It’s time we explore this new world."

Keles nodded and followed beside Ikenga as they walked to the portal leading to the other world. Stepping through the portal, Ikenga was greeted with a feeling of instant relaxation.

The suppression of the Abyss was gone, and his power was no longer limited. An instinct immediately kicked in as he tried to connect with the nature around him.

During his time in the Abyss, Ikenga noticed that nature was everywhere; it wasn’t limited to plants and trees. Life in any environment or surroundings has its own natural way of working.

This led Ikenga to spend most of his time meditating as he tried to connect with the nature of the Abyss. It was the first challenge Ikenga had faced since his godhood.

The nature of the Abyss wasn’t welcoming to him; rather, it found him undeserving of its nature. The nature of the Abyss leaned more towards chaos, while Ikenga’s nature leaned more towards balance.

The nature of the Abyss gave Ikenga two options if he was to connect with it: to give up his balance and take one extreme path, specifically a more chaotic side, or to abandon his old world and become the new nature of this Abyss layer.

Neither of these options was acceptable to Ikenga, which was why he spent most of his time meditating, finding it interesting to go back and forth with the nature of the Abyss.

Now he was in another world, specifically touching the ground eroded by the Abyss. He wasn’t truly connected with this world’s nature but instead with the small nature growing in these eroded grounds.

Because of how small these eroded lands were, the nature had no problem surrendering to Ikenga. Ikenga gestured at the eroded earth his foot was touching.