Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son

As the battle waged on, the demonic leviathans, now cloaked in sheaths of flame that made their forms even more terrifying, continued to spill forth from the portals. They surged towards Aldred in droves, a seemingly endless onslaught of rage and destruction. With each beast he dispatched, another took its place, as if the very fabric of hell itself was set against him, determined to over

His hands moved in blurs, casting bolts of pure energy that sliced through the demonic forms, his power a beacon amidst the darkness. Dozens of leviathans fell per second, their ashes scattered to the cosmic winds, yet still, they came.

But as the battle drew on, a subtle shift occurred. The leviathans, creatures of chaos and malice, began to adapt. With each wave he dispatched, their movements grew more cunning, their attacks more coordinated. It was as if the collective malice of the horde learned from each defeat, each fallen beast a lesson in how to better combat the light Aldred wielded.

Their charges became feints, their direct assaults giving way to more guileful strikes aimed not only at Aldred's body but at weariness his spirit. The creatures he faced now were not the mindless drones he had encountered at the battle's onset but rather cunning predators, their instincts honed by the crucible of combat against a superior foe.

Aldred recognized the shift with a warrior's instinct, the realization dawning on him that this was no mere test of strength but a battle of wills. "You seek to wear me down," he spoke into the void, his voice carrying the weight of his determination. "To break my spirit. Do you think I am that simple to defeat?"

Instead of conserving his energy and slow down in his attacks, Aldred moved faster, his attacks deadlier, and from dozens of leviathan killed per seconds, it became hundreds per second.

Zagrath, watching this, slightly frowned. Curiosity appeared on his face. "How long would you last?

Aldred continued his battle. Days turned into months, then months became years. At this point, there were several dozen portals opened in the deep space and countless leviathans poured towards him.

And yet, there were no signs that he was becoming weaker. His attacks were consistently powerful. Each movement decimate an entire area of leviathans at once.

The answer to Zagrath's question was; a long fucking time!

While Aldred's battle raged in the vacuum of space, a silent war of another kind unfolded across the demon-infested worlds. Salamander's invention, the Auto-Drones, executed their mission with a precision and stealth that would have impressed any master of espionage.

These drones, no larger than a fist and designed for inconspicuousness, infiltrated thousands of worlds under the cover of darkness and chaos.

The Auto-Drones, each carrying the potential for destruction and liberation, moved through the shadowed alleys of sprawling demonic cities, across the blighted landscapes marred by endless conflict, and into the heart of fortresses that pulsed with dark energy.

Their programming was simple yet effective: to seek out and build explosives in locations that, while seemingly inconsequential, held vital importance to the infrastructure of demon power.

In a hidden laboratory, deep within the Celestial Platoon's floating vessel, Salamander monitored the progress of his creations. Screens lined the walls, each displaying different stages of the Auto-Drones' mission. His fingers danced across a holographic interface, adjusting strategies and deployment patterns in real-time.

"These little ones are doing better than expected," Salamander mused, a hint of pride in his voice. "It's almost like they've developed a taste for sabotage."

The drones worked tirelessly, their actions coordinated by an intricate network of communication that Salamander had crafted. They planted explosives with care, some designed to detonate immediately and cripple key facilities, others set to explode simultaneously in a chain reaction that would bring demonic operations to a standstill.

As the months turned into years, the drones' impact became increasingly evident. Supply lines were cut, causing chaos and confusion within demon ranks. Armories exploded in spectacular fashion, their loss crippling the demons' ability to wage war. Communication hubs were destroyed, isolating demon worlds from one another and sowing discord among their leaders.

On a particular world, one of the drones, which Salamander had affectionately named Spark, infiltrated a massive fortress that served as a command center for the demon legions. Spark navigated the dark corridors with ease, avoiding detection by demonic sentries and surveillance spells alike.

It found its way to the central power core, a pulsing mass of dark energy that powered the fortress's defenses.

With meticulous precision, Spark began to construct a series of explosives around the core, each linked to the others in a web of potential destruction. As it worked, Spark transmitted a live feed back to Salamander, who watched with bated breath.

"This is it," Salamander whispered, his eyes glued to the screen. "The heart of their power. Once this goes, the whole network collapses."

And then, with a final check to ensure everything was in place, Spark retreated to a safe distance. Salamander initiated the detonation sequence, his finger hovering over the button that would bring down the demon's command center.

"Goodbye," he said softly, pressing the button.

The explosion was monumental, a brilliant flare of light that outshone the planet's sun for a brief moment.

The fortress imploded, then exploded, its destruction complete and absolute. The shockwaves from the blast rippled through the demonic networks, a clear signal that the tide of the war was turning.

Throughout the years of Aldred's relentless battle against the leviathans, the Celestial Platoons and their allies had not remained idle. Understanding the long war that lay ahead, they had worked tirelessly, expanding their forces and arsenals day by day. It was a time of growth, not just in military might, but in the economic engines that powered their resistance.

On the floating command vessel, now bristling with new armaments and bustling with activity, General Vara stood overlooking the training grounds. Below her, rows upon rows of new recruits practiced maneuvers, their movements becoming more synchronized with each passing day. Vara, a veteran of countless battles, knew the importance of each soldier under her command.

"We grow stronger," she murmured to herself, a sense of pride swelling within her.

Beside her, Lieutenant Merek, her second-in-command, nodded in agreement. "Our forces have doubled since Aldred began his battle. And our technological advancements—" he gestured towards a group of engineers testing a new type of drone, "—are pushing us further ahead."

Vara turned to him, her gaze steely. "It's not enough to just match them. We must surpass them. We cannot know the full extent of the enemy's capabilities, especially with Aldred drawing so much of their attention."

Merek met her gaze, understanding the weight of her words. "I've also received reports from our economic divisions. The businesses we've established across allied worlds are thriving. The profits have been funnelled back into our efforts here."

Vara smiled, a rare sight. "Good. We'll need every resource at our disposal. Have we made any progress on the new energy source?"

"Yes, General. The teams have been working closely with Salamander's engineers. They believe they're close to a breakthrough that could change the tide of this war," Merek replied with a hint of excitement.

The general nodded, turning her attention back to the recruits. "Ensure that Salamander has everything he needs. This war… it's not just fought with soldiers and weapons. It's innovation, determination, and the will to persevere."

The one that made this expansion so efficient was none other than Shinari. Knowing that Aldred was fighting, she could not just sit still and do nothing.

She figured her best way to help was to make Celestial Platoon even bigger.

They were already the biggest mercenary company in the entire human Empire and perhaps the entire galaxy.

The reason for that might be because an organization that was too powerful would be immediately recruited by their government, otherwise face extermination.

…

Shinari paced briskly through the corridors of the Celestial Platoon's flagship.

Her stride was purposeful, each step echoing slightly against the metal floors. In her hand, she held a digital pad, its screen alive with charts, graphs, and a flood of real-time data that only she could interpret at such a pace.

Her focus was absolute, her mind racing through logistics, troop deployments, and resource allocations with a precision that had earned her a reputation as a strategic genius within the Platoon. Her earpiece crackled with incoming calls, voices clamoring for decisions, approvals, and, occasionally, reassurance.

"Coordinate the fleet's movements with Gamma Squadron," she instructed sharply, her fingers swiping and tapping on the pad with practiced ease. "No, tell them to wait for my signal. We can't afford a misstep, not now."

As she rounded a corner, her pace never faltering, her thoughts were a whirlwind of strategy and concern for Aldred. His battle was a beacon of hope and a source of unending worry for her. The weight of command was heavy, but the thought of failing him, of failing their shared cause, was unbearable.

Entering her office, a space more functional than decorative, with screens lining the walls and a large, tactical display dominating the center, Shinari was a whirlwind of activity—until she stopped dead in her tracks.

There, leaning casually against her desk with that infuriatingly calm and nonchalant smile, was Aldred.

"Hey," he greeted, as if his appearance in the heart of the battleship, far from the front lines of his cosmic battle, was the most natural thing in the world.

For a moment, Shinari was speechless, her mind racing to catch up with the reality of his presence. The pad slipped from her hand, forgotten, as she stared at him. "Aldred? How— Why are you here? How did you even get here?"

Aldred pushed off from the desk, stepping towards her with that same easy grace that seemed so at odds with the ferocity she knew he wielded in battle. "I figured it was time for a brief… intermission. And I needed to see you."

"But the battle, the leviathans…" Shinari's voice trailed off as she realized the absurdity of questioning him. He was here, somehow defying the logic of their situation. The realization softened her expression from one of shock to concern. "Are you alright?"

He chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "I'm fine. Better for seeing you. But Shinari, I've been fighting non-stop. The leviathans keep coming, but it's under control. I came back because we need to talk.

About the war, the strategy moving forward, and about us."

"About u—"

Aldred grabbed her by the waist and kissed her cheek.

"Aldred, are you drunk?"

Aldred laughed. "What type of alcohol can make me drunk?"

"Okay, that aside. Why are you here? What about the leviathans?"

"My clones fought them. Did you think I would really stay there for years and fought all those years? That would be a waste of time."

"Well, you did that against Vortimer."

"He was too powerful and I need to protect you guys as well."

"If that is the case, why didn't you say anything."

"I am playing it safe. The demons might have a lot of ears and eyes, especially when our group is getting bigger. Intelligence entities know that information is one of the key to victories, Shinari. They will and already have infiltrated us in so many ways. I hope you be more careful now." Aldred stood up as if he was about to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Aldred smiled one last time at her. "To do things that will bring this war to the next phase."

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