My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 347

Ssk’thar outlined harassnt patterns for his serpentfolk—where they’d strike, when they’d withdraw, how to maximize psychological impact.

Urgak planned shock assault routes—where his orcs would hit, how hard, and how to disengage before being surrounded.

Vex’ahlia coordinated her elite two hundred, assigning them to rapid response roles that required split-second deploynt.

And through it all, Seraphina wove corruption magic communication networks, invisible to mortal eyes but creating shadow-links between every defensive position.

Finally, with five minutes remaining before estimated contact, Vex’ahlia called for attention.

"Everyone clear on their roles?"

A chorus of affirmations.

"Good. Then get to your positions. Rember—we’re not trying to win this battle today. We’re trying to survive it. Make them pay for every yard. Make them question whether this settlent is worth their soldiers’ lives. Make them slow, cautious, and afraid."

The commanders began filing out, each heading to their assigned positions.

Lyra lingered for a mont, staring at the tactical maps. Seraphina remained as well, her otherworldly presence sohow comforting despite—or perhaps because of—its alien nature.

"We can win this," Lyra said quietly, though whether she was trying to convince Seraphina or herself wasn’t clear.

"We can survive this," Seraphina corrected gently. "Which is all that matters. Survival today ans we fight tomorrow. Fighting tomorrow ans we’re still here when reinforcents arrive."

"What happens when Commander Elric realizes we have a demon lord backing us?"

"He adjusts. Calls for hero support, probably. Requests anti-demon specialists." Seraphina’s expression was calm. "Which is why I stay hidden as long as possible. Let him commit his forces based on incomplete intelligence. Then reveal myself when it’s too late for him to adjust."

Lyra’s golden eyes studied the demon lord. "You’ve done this before. Fought against hero armies."

"Many tis. I’m old, Lyra. Older than most of the kingdoms sending this army. I’ve seen heroes rise and fall. Seen armies march with righteous certainty only to break against prepared defenders." Seraphina’s smile was cold. "Experience matters. And we have it in abundance."

"Do you think Satou will make it back in ti?"

The demon lord was silent for a long mont. "I think Satou is capable of impossible things. Whether that includes returning from Valstrath in ti to influence this battle?" She shrugged. "Unknown. So we plan as if we’re alone."

A horn sounded outside—the three-minute warning.

"Ti to see if our plans survive contact with the enemy," Lyra said, gathering her maps and crystals.

"They won’t," Seraphina said matter-of-factly. "Plans never do. But good planners adapt. And we," her smile was predatory, "are excellent planners."

Twenty-eight minutes after the first alarm, the human army ca into view.

From his position atop the First Line’s observation tower, Kelvin watched them approach through far-seeing lenses. His goblin features remained calm, but his warrior’s mind was cataloging everything.

This was no ragtag mob. This was a disciplined military force.

The formation was textbook professional. Heavy infantry in the center—shields locked in tight formation, spears presented forward, moving in perfect lockstep that spoke to months of drill and discipline. Archers on the flanks, positioned to provide enfilading fire or pivot to et threats from unexpected angles. Cavalry held in reserve behind the main line, ready to exploit breakthroughs or plug gaps. And scattered throughout the formation, figures in robes that practically announced "battle mage" to anyone with eyes.

At the very center of the formation, flying high above the ranks on enchanted standards, was a command banner. The personal standard of Commander Elric Stonewall.

Kelvin adjusted his far-seeing lenses and focused on the command section.

There. An older human in expensive but practical armor, gray hair cropped military-short, face weathered by four decades of campaigns and hard decisions. He sat on a white warhorse, surrounded by officers and aides, studying the settlent’s visible defenses with the sa professional interest Kelvin was giving his army.

Commander Elric Stonewall. The man who would try to kill them all.

"Impressive," a voice said from behind him.

Kelvin turned to find Lyra had climbed the tower to join his observation post. She was staring at the approaching army with a mixture of analytical interest and carefully controlled fear.

"Very," Kelvin agreed. "Look at the spacing—wide enough to avoid massed arrow fire, tight enough that units can support each other imdiately. And see how the cavalry’s positioned? They can reinforce any flank that cos under pressure, or exploit any breakthrough that develops."

"Can we hold against them?"

Kelvin was silent for a long mont, his goblin instincts warring with his tactical training. "In a straight fight on open ground? No. We’re outnumbered, and they’re professional soldiers led by one of the best commanders in the human kingdoms."

"That’s not encouraging."

"But," Kelvin continued, his eyes never leaving the approaching force, "we’re not fighting on open ground. We’ve got defensive terrain chosen and prepared over months. We’ve got fortifications designed by Thrak—one of Loki’s best military engineers, sent here specifically to prepare our defenses. We’ve got warriors who know this is their ho they’re defending." He gestured toward where Seraphina’s corruption specialists were hidden. "And we have assets they don’t know about yet."

"The demon lord."

"Among others. Loki’s elite two hundred aren’t exactly common soldiers either." Kelvin lowered his far-seeing lenses. "We have a chance. Not a good chance, but a chance."

Below them, horns sounded from the human army. The formations slowed to a halt approximately eight hundred yards from the First Line defenses—well beyond effective bow range for all but the most powerful bows.

"What are they doing?" Lyra asked.

Kelvin focused his lenses on the army’s movents. Soldiers were disembarking from marching column into sothing else. Stakes being driven into ground. Tents being unfurled. Periter guards establishing positions.

"Setting up camp," Kelvin reported, surprise evident in his voice. "He’s not attacking today."

"What?"

"Look—they’re establishing a siege camp. Full fortifications, command posts, supply dumps. That’s not a force preparing for imdiate assault. That’s a force preparing for a prolonged operation."

Lyra’s strategic mind raced through implications. "Commander Elric is being cautious,he doesn’t want to make thesa mistake he did with Satou during the save and He also wants to study our defenses before committing."