Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 209: The Demon King is Tired of Promises



Garruk's wings beat raggedly as he neared the foreboding silhouette of the Demon King's Castle. The dark spires jutted into the stormy sky, lightning crackling across them as if nature itself feared to touch the structure. Blood still dripped from his torn wings, leaving a faint trail behind him as he descended, barely making it to the stone balcony where two guards stood at attention. They exchanged uneasy glances as Garruk landed, his massive frame stumbling before he steadied himself.

Without waiting for acknowledgment, Garruk pushed past them, grimacing as the pain flared through his body. He knew what awaited him inside-reprimand, disappointment, perhaps punishment. But even with the looming wrath of the Demon Lord, the bitter sting of failure gnawed at him more fiercely than any wound.

The hallways of the castle were dimly lit, shadows creeping along the walls as torches sputtered with an unnatural green flame. The silence was suffocating, punctuated only by the clatter of Garruk's footsteps and the distant growl of thunder. At the end of the corridor, the massive iron doors to the throne room stood shut, engraved with scenes of demonic conquests long past.

Garruk hesitated only a moment before pushing them open. The doors groaned as they swung wide, revealing the throne room shrouded in darkness, save for a pool of crimson light that illuminated the dais where the Demon Lord sat. His presence was a suffocating weight, eyes like molten coals burning from beneath the shadow of his crown.

"Approach," the Demon Lord commanded, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the

hall.

Garruk stepped forward, each movement deliberate, each breath measured. He dropped to one knee before the throne, his head bowed. "My Lord," he began, the words scraping out like gravel. "The siege of Akarios Island-"

"Failed," the Demon Lord interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut. He rose, the towering form gliding down the steps until he stood over Garruk, the air thick with dread. "You let Valeria lead, and she is dead. You promised success, and yet here you kneel, empty-handed." "My Lord, I—" Garruk's voice wavered, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to continue. "The humans and their allies... they were stronger than anticipated. Their weapons, their tactics-"

"Excuses." The word was a hiss, venomous and final. The Demon Lord's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Garruk as though he were something caught in his teeth. "I have no use for leaders who cannot lead, for generals who return with stories of defeat."

"But, my Lord, it was Valeria who assured-" Garruk's explanation faltered as the Demon Lord's gaze intensified.

"Valeria is gone," the Demon Lord said, his voice as cold as the abyss. "Her failure, your failure-these are reminders that my legions have grown complacent, weak."

"My Lord, we can regroup. I can-"

"I have no need to listen to your reason-when the results speak for themselves," the Demon Lord finished, his eyes flaring with a dangerous light. He took a step closer, the air between them crackling with an unseen power that made the guards at the far end of the hall shift nervously. Garruk's jaw clenched, every instinct screaming at him to move, to react, but he remained on one knee, refusing to flinch.

"Regroup?" The Demon Lord's voice dripped with mockery, the echo bouncing coldly off the walls. "What good is regrouping when I have generals who falter at the first sign of resistance? When my strongest can't even bring down a coalition of lesser beings?"

"My Lord, the coalition's strength was unforeseen-"

"Unforeseen?" The word boomed across the hall as the Demon Lord raised his hand. The torches lining the room flared with a sudden, searing light. "I do not tolerate failure because of oversights. You were given power, Garruk. You were trusted."

Garruk's head remained bowed, but the weight of defeat and impending doom pressed down on him. "My Lord, I failed, but I can learn. I can bring retribution."

Silence followed, a heavy pause that hung in the air like a blade poised to drop. The Demon Lord stared down at Garruk, an unreadable expression crossing his face. For a moment, hope flickered in Garruk's chest; perhaps there was a sliver of redemption, a chance to-n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"No," the Demon Lord finally said, the single word striking like a death knell. His hand moved with a fluid flick of his fingers.

A pulse of energy shot forth, faster than Garruk could react. It hit him square in the chest, and in an instant, his body convulsed as dark energy surged through him. The guards averted their eyes as Garruk's roar of pain echoed through the throne room, a raw, guttural sound that cut off abruptly as his form shattered into a cloud of dark, disintegrating particles. The energy crackled one last time before silence fell, the remnants of Garruk's existence fading into the air.

The Demon Lord's expression remained stoic as he returned to his throne, the light from the torches dimming once more. He sat, steepling his fingers as he surveyed the now-empty hall. "Useless-so useless...all the demon king generals are useless!" The Demon Lord vented. "I don't see any reason for their existence anymore. I shall summon them."

With a flick of his finger again, the remaining Demon King Generals, Thalor and Telus, appeared in a flash of dark energy, materializing in the center of the throne room.

The moment those two recognized that they were inside the Demon King Castle, they immediately knelt in great reverence.

"My Lord," Thalor began, his voice steady despite the thrum of tension in the room. "You summoned us."

The Demon Lord stared at them, the silence stretching uncomfortably as his crimson eyes glowed beneath the shadow of his spiked crown. His gaze shifted between the two generals, assessing them with a cold, piercing scrutiny that made the air feel stifling.

"Yes, I summoned you," the Demon Lord finally spoke, his voice like a rumble of distant thunder. "To witness the failure of those who thought themselves worthy." He gestured to the now-empty space where Garruk had stood, his presence wiped from existence. "Garruk, your so-called brother in arms, promised victory and brought only disgrace."

The generals remained silent, knowing any word out of turn could seal their fate. "The Demon King Generals are supposed to be my strongest warriors. But they fell below my expectations, not once, but repeatedly," the Demon Lord continued, his tone colder than the icy void. His eyes bore into Thalor and Telus, searching for any flicker of defiance or weakness. None was visible, but it did little to soften his expression.

Thalor's jaw tightened as he kept his head low. He was known for his skill and speed in battle, yet here, under the shadow of the Demon Lord's disappointment, those accolades felt meaningless. Beside him, Telus, remained eerily still, though a bead of sweat trickled down

the side of his face.

"My Lord, we recognize Garruk's failure and our own shortcomings in supporting the campaign," Thalor spoke carefully, each word chosen as if it could be his last. "But give us the opportunity to strike anew. We have learned the strength of our enemies; we will not be

caught unprepared again."

Telus raised his head slightly, his eyes dark and calculating. "Let us act, my Lord. Their victory has made them bold, and boldness breeds recklessness. We can use that against

them."

The Demon Lord's gaze shifted between them, his expression inscrutable. "Words. Promises. I have heard them all before." His voice dropped to a near whisper, laced with malice. "You forget that Valeria spoke as you do now. And Garruk tried to justify his failure, just as you

attempt now."

Thalor's heartbeat quickened, but he kept his composure. "We do not seek to justify failure, my Lord. Only to prevent it from happening again. Allow us to redeem ourselves."

The silence that followed was suffocating. The Demon Lord's eyes narrowed, and the green flames of the torches flickered ominously as if reacting to his mood.

"No, I will no longer entertain that kind of plea," the Demon Lord said, his tone final. His eyes blazed with fury as he raised a hand. The air around Thalor and Telus tightened, a crushing force pinning them to the cold stone floor. They gasped, the weight unbearable as dark energy coiled around their forms.

"My Lord, mercy-" Telus choked out, his voice strained.

"There is no room for mercy," the Demon Lord cut in, his voice like a death knell. "I am done

with weak promises."

With a flick of his fingers, the dark energy surged. A searing, bone-deep pain wracked both generals as their bodies convulsed under the power's merciless grip. The torches flared a sickly green, casting grotesque shadows that danced on the walls.

A final, strangled cry escaped Thalor's lips as the energy reached its peak, and with a flash, the room fell silent once more. The bodies of Thalor and Telus disintegrated into black ash that scattered across the throne room floor, leaving no trace of their once-proud existence.

The Demon Lord lowered his hand and exhaled slowly, the room now devoid of the generals

who had failed him.

"Looks like I'll have to reassess my forces again huh."