Chapter 1003: The Battle for High Tower (Thirty-Seven) (Patreon)

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Batman, a genius both strategically and tactically, descended into hell as the chosen one to save Demon.

The script he should have received was to establish the Seven Mountain Mine as the first stronghold, gradually expand outward, using the name of the faction to force Belial to drive away the conspirator Schiller by his side, then gradually erode all of Belial's territory, and continue warfare until he unified hell.

But as the saying goes, even a skilled housewife can't cook without rice, and if someone's luck is bad, even drinking cold water would be a problem.

Batman had just acquired a part of Belial's territory that was not strategically positioned very well and lacked resources, yet he was faced with attacks from all directions by countries.

What's even more frightening is that these countries were not still stuck in the medieval era of Demon kingdoms. During the time Batman was establishing his dominance over the Seven Mountain Mine, other Schillers who went to Demon Lords for employment were not idle.

The majority of Schillers successfully gained the trust of the Demon Lords, and many, like the conspiracy Schiller, even managed to sow discord among the original trusted aides of the Demon Lords, seizing sole control and initiating reforms with bold strokes.

The methods Batman knew of, the Schillers also knew. Moreover, some Schillers had more experience in infrastructure development than Batman, after all, they came from countries that were once even more impoverished.

Although the conditions in various countries in hell were not good, several larger countries were relatively affluent, with complete systems of science and technology and a decent number of sorcerers. While the quality of troops might not match modern armies, the superior physical qualities of Demons compensated for educational shortcomings, making them reasonably effective.

For the Schillers, not having to start from scratch with science and technology, not needing to develop education from the ground up, not having to repeat the poverty-to-steel process, and being able to extract gold from scrap iron after countless repetitions was already a fairly good start.

So, while Batman was still focusing on warfare in the mine, many countries around him began vigorous reforms. Although there might not be much improvement in people's livelihoods in the short term, they made rapid progress in unlocking the potential of the liberation war.

The result was that Batman, who had just sold the beginner village, encountered real formidable opponents at the village gate, and not just one, but dozens of them.

The land Batman occupied had a relatively unique geographical position. He bordered Belial, Astero, and Azazel on three sides, and at the same time, a major rift in the southeast of the territory extended directly into Beelzebub's territory, making it almost impossible to defend.

It couldn't be said that he was caught off guard, but neither was it unexpected.

What's even more terrifying is that originally, these factions were at odds with each other, but as soon as Batman emerged, all the countries instantly adopted a friendly negotiating attitude.

Astero and Beelzebub immediately ceased hostilities, while Belial and Azazel reminisced about their centuries-old friendship. In short, the message was clear: they could lose the war, but Batman had to die.

Batman didn't need to think to know who was behind the scenes stirring up trouble. What's more absurd is that some Demon Lords who were relatively far from these factions and didn't border Batman also wanted to participate in the war.

Coincidentally, these Demon Lords, who were usually very suspicious, all sang the same tune of "my door is always open", saying they would lend aid as needed, lend troops as needed. In short, all the Demons united to strangle Batman's heretical force in its cradle.

At first, Batman didn't realize the seriousness of the problem. He thought the Demon Lords bordering him would definitely attack him, so he began to contract his defenses, formulate defensive strategies, and conserve his forces.

Initially, this method worked well. Defense was always easier than offense, especially with the internal railway lines fully connected, allowing for rapid transportation of goods. As long as there were sufficient supplies, holding out in the city for several years was not a problem.

However, as the other countries went all out, reforms deepened, and infrastructure gradually improved, their speed in mobilizing resources and troops became very fast. Moreover, their armies were much larger and more elite than Batman's, and within less than a week of warfare, the defense line collapsed completely.

Sitting in the command center of the Seven Mountain Mine, Batman felt like a firefighter without water in his hose. Reports came in of fires breaking out everywhere, but he had very few cards in his hand, and every play he made depleted his resources further.

And he understood that he didn't have any aces up his sleeve. He also knew that all the Schillers were aware of this. Therefore, showing weakness would not lure the enemy into overextending; it would only invite even more aggressive attacks. He couldn't afford to bluff.

With his elbow propped on the table and his palm covering his forehead, Batman closed his eyes for a moment of rest. It was at this moment that Merkel burst in energetically, holding a report in hand, saying, "The western front has no retreat left. Beelzebub's army in the Great Rift is still advancing, less than a day's march from our defense line. Where should we deploy the Third Division that we prepared?"

Batman abruptly woke up from his dream. Merkel glanced at his expression. Batman looked extremely disheveled now, having gone seven days without any rest.

Indeed, in hell, there was almost no need for eating, drinking, or sleeping, but that didn't mean that after seven days of intense mental labor, no rest was needed.

Batman's genius brain had been operating at its highest speed for days, and even from this distance, Merkel could already smell the burnt scent of overloaded components.

He hesitated for a moment, still not telling Batman the bad news of the southern front being breached just now. Batman took the report from him, blinked his eyes somewhat dazedly, and Merkel spoke, "I think you should rest for a while."

"That's what those Schillers also think," Batman replied, his voice already hoarse to the bottom, "They're just waiting for a chance, waiting for me to make a mistake. Then everything will collapse, and I can't afford to give them that chance."

"But you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Merkel frowned. "Health is the cornerstone of revolution. Haven't you noticed that your Soul intensity has been continuously declining?"

"That day, I heard the great sorcerer of Sandbar City say that the Soul of humans is the most delicate among all races. Ordinary methods cannot replenish our Soul energy. It can only recover naturally."

"If you exhaust your body, it will produce various negative effects, and it is very likely to affect the condition of your body after returning to reality. This kind of influence is permanent."

"But I must win this battle first before I can return to reality," Batman shook his head lightly, staring at the sand table on the table, focused, "Although they are constantly attacking our defense lines, attacks also come in waves, which means, as long as we can withstand one wave of attacks, theoretically, we can withstand all waves."

Merkel sighed, saying, "But that's just theoretically. Do you know what your theory implies?"

"It implies that no one can afford to make a mistake," Merkel lightly tapped the table with his finger and continued, "This is unrealistic, and more importantly, you cannot afford to make a mistake. Can you really avoid making mistakes?"

Merkel pointed to the sand table on the table, "Right now, we are under attack from all four directions - east, west, south, and north, plus the Great Rift that leads directly into our territory, making it five directions. The western front has the shortest defense line, but on that line alone, we have to withstand at least 50 impacts a day."

"Meaning, we have to endure over 200 attacks every day. And the tactical skills of our grassroots commanders are still at the level of the original Demon warfare era. We can't expect them to come up with any strategies above average. The best we can hope for is that they understand the commands and execute them."

"In other words, out of these 200 attacks, every decision rests solely on you. With over 2000 decisions to make, you cannot afford to make a single mistake or deviation. And even if there's a deviation in execution, you need to correct it."

"All the decision-making pressure will be on you," Merkel shook his head, "I believe in your intelligence and your willpower, but you know, this level of pressure, without a driving force to push you forward, you won't be able to withstand it."

Batman took a deep breath, "Of course I know, but let's talk about this later. Let's deal with these strategic issues that need immediate attention first."

Batman and Merkel discussed for a while and tentatively set the defense strategy for the next steps. As Merkel said, although the major countries in hell had undergone some reforms, productivity had improved, and the mode of warfare had changed to some extent, it had not completely transitioned to modern warfare.

Without a comprehensive attack mode encompassing sea, land, and air, as well as information warfare, the majority of battles still relied on sequential charges. Theoretically, as long as the strongest wave of charge was stopped, the remaining attacks could be withstood.

However, in the intricate battlefield, every possible scenario that could occur, every tactical deployment that was needed, all had to be decided by Batman. And he had no room for error; one wrong move could result in total failure.

Hell had no distinct daytime and nighttime. It was just that at certain times, the magma left from the sky would dim, signaling what hell called 'night'. However, the lava river on the distant horizon still glowed brightly. Batman stood atop the mountain of the mine, looking towards the smoke rising from the lava river in the distance.

On the horizon, the silhouette of a castle was particularly conspicuous. That was the castle where General Putrescent used to reside, but now it was the residence of Schiller.

For the past few days, Schiller had not shown himself. And the last time Batman left, Schiller's condition was not very good. Thinking about this, Batman jumped from the mountaintop, a small shadow leaping among the huge mines, and in no time, arrived at the castle gate.

After a moment of thought, Batman didn't enter through the front door but went around to the back of the castle and climbed over the wall.

As soon as he landed, he heard a voice above his head, "Too bad, this castle doesn't have a garden, otherwise, I might have the chance to admire you being hung up under the canopy again."

Batman raised his head to see Schiller standing on the balcony of the castle's second floor, looking down. Batman walked in through the back door of the main hall and walked up the staircase to the bedroom door, knocking on it.

But at this moment, he saw Claude, the Demon, fully armed, holding a spear, looking like he was about to leave. Schiller opened the bedroom door, and Batman walked in.

"Are you leaving?" Batman asked.

Schiller nodded, glanced at Batman's condition, and then said, "Yes, I have other things to do."

"It's very dangerous for you to leave now," Batman's tone remained unchanged. Schiller looked at Batman's pale face. He knew what had happened recently. Before Batman could speak, Schiller said, "I've said it before, the danger in hell won't be me."

Schiller looked up, but then turned his head back to stare at Batman, "You were correct earlier. My own emotions may be weak, but I can keenly sense the emotions of others."

Schiller closed his eyes and sighed, "When you asked me the first question, I felt that you cared about me, but were you really concerned about me?"

Suddenly, Batman saw a wildly crazy smile on Schiller's face. Then he walked forward, faced Batman, and stared into his eyes, "Do you know why the other personality traits are targeting me?"

"Why?"

"It's a competition," Schiller raised his voice, "And the prize for victory is the qualification to control the body at the conscious level. In other words, the winner can replace me."

Schiller stared into Batman's eyes, "If you lose, you'll never see me again... That's good news, isn't it?"

"Tell me, do you feel happy and relaxed?"

Batman tilted his head slightly upwards. He could clearly feel, in a moment of neglect, a fire igniting within his chest, like a bright light capable of illuminating hell.

What was it that could support him to accomplish the impossible task, to gain the great power he had never possessed before, and become a true chosen one?

Was it justice? Was it revenge?

No, Batman thought, perhaps it was salvation.

Saving the most unlikely to be saved in this world, his enemy, his mentor, the one about to merge with him - Schiller Rodriguez.

But whether it was Schiller or Joker, they always resisted being cared for and never responded. It was like performing to thin air, like a true Joker.

But Batman didn't care. In any matter, he was more stubborn than others.

...Wait, would Schiller really not respond?

At this moment, Schiller had already passed by Batman and was about to leave. And at this moment, Batman's voice came from behind him.

"So, why are you leaving?"

Schiller's figure only paused for a moment, then continued forward.

Batman watched his back and thought, this is indeed a very classic case of pride and prejudice.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1004 The Battle for High Tower (Thirty-eight)