Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 531:The Grim Outlook

"There is a big problem!"

The shout ripped through the command tent, shattering the prevailing calm.

Ethan, mid-sip of tea, nearly expelled it. He jerked his head around, a few drops narrowly missing Han.

Han shot him a withering look, meticulously dabbing his sleeve with evident annoyance.

"What happened?" Ethan inquired, still clutching his cup, though his expression had now sobered considerably.

Han clicked his tongue, casting a glance at Hale, the messenger. "You're a Mythic rank knight, yet you're losing your composure like a child," he chided softly. "Have some dignity."

"Dignity my foot… Read this first," Hale retorted, striding in briskly and slapping a sealed letter onto the table.

The wooden surface vibrated slightly from the impact, drawing the immediate attention of both Ethan and Han.

Han retrieved it first, breaking the seal as Ethan leaned in closer. Their eyes scanned the contents, and their expressions shifted in an instant.

Their pupils dilated.

"What in the blazes is this?" Ethan breathed, his voice low yet laden with disbelief.

The letter's message was concise, but its implications were enough to rock them to their core.

The Orc Empire and the Beastman Royal Kingdom had forged an alliance with the Demon forces.

A heavy silence descended upon the tent, unbroken for a long moment.

The air itself seemed to grow denser.

"Are you certain about this?" Han finally managed, his brow deeply furrowed as he fixed his gaze on Hale.

Hale offered a slight shake of his head. "Nothing is absolute, but informants have indeed witnessed demon envoys visiting their courts," he replied. "Nothing is definitively decided yet."

Ethan swallowed, leaning back slightly. For once, words failed him. This situation was entirely unprecedented.

"Inform the General and await his orders," Han commanded after a brief pause.

There was no better course of action. The decision was made swiftly, and the report was sent up the command chain.

Days trickled by.

The oppressive tension lingered, and the response they received only served to complicate matters further.

They were instructed to continue their assault.

Ethan's brow furrowed slightly upon hearing this, and he exchanged a look of hesitant concern with Han and Hale.

"Given the current trajectory, we've already been thrust into the vanguard," he stated slowly. "If this intelligence holds true, pushing forward relentlessly…"

He left the thought unfinished, but its implications were clear.

Han exhaled, crossing his arms. "I understand," he conceded. "But the order remains."

Ethan, not entirely appeased, dispatched another inquiry. This time, the reply differed.

The General himself would be taking command to oversee the situation.

That confirmation was sufficient to quell further dissent.

With that directive, the vanguard of the Arcadia Empire pressed onward, Ethan leading the charge on the front lines.

Engaged in battle after battle, their advance continued.

Victories were secured with remarkable speed.

Under Ethan's leadership and formidable strength, enemy defenses crumbled sequentially, bolstering the confidence of his soldiers with each triumph.

Fortunately, neither the Church of Darkness nor the Abyssal Sect made any unwelcome appearances during this period, which significantly smoothed their progress.

Ethan was acutely aware that had those entities reappeared, the situation would have been far more perilous.

Without the backing of his family's influence readily available, confronting unforeseen threats would have proven considerably more challenging.

Nevertheless, for the moment, control was maintained.

Within a fortnight of unrelenting combat, the Arcadia Empire had successfully seized control of six territories along the Demon Land border.

It was an achievement of considerable magnitude.

The army's morale soared, and whispers began to circulate among the ranks.

"If this pace continues… Marquise Ethan may soon attain the rank of Duke."

"He already stands among the elite."

Such pronouncements spread discreetly, and while Ethan caught wind of some, he remained outwardly unfazed.

His caution persisted. A single misstep could lead to devastating consequences. The army marched until they reached the vicinity of a broad river, where their advance naturally decelerated.

Before them lay the formidable City of Haywire.

This was a key demon stronghold, its walls towering and heavily fortified, with defensive arrays faintly shimmering along their surfaces.

Negotiating the river crossing and initiating a siege would prove no simple feat. A prolonged siege engagement would inevitably result in substantial casualties.

The higher command recognized this reality as well.

Consequently, they received orders to hold their position and await further developments.

General Aaron was expected to arrive with reinforcements before any significant offensive action would be undertaken.

A camp was established along the riverbank, marking the army's first respite in days.

However, Ethan was not one to idly wait when the situation remained unclarified.

That night, cloaked by the darkness, he made a decisive move.

He subtly altered his appearance, masking his aura and blending seamlessly with the surrounding environment.

Then, he set out.

Utilizing the river's less-trafficked back channel, where the current's pull was gentler and fewer eyes were watching, Ethan submerged himself and began his silent approach toward the city.

The frigid water swirled around him, yet his gaze remained steady, his mind sharp and focused.

Should the tide of war be capable of turning, he had to witness the unfolding events with his own senses.

And so, with stealth and discretion, Ethan made his entry into the City of Haywire, using the concealed river passage.

Ethan proceeded with caution as he neared the city's perimeter, aware that even a minor misstep here could betray his presence to formidable adversaries.

Before venturing further, he retrieved the artifact bestowed upon him by Kassandra. It appeared as an unadorned ring, yet it pulsed with a subtle, potent energy. He slid it onto his finger, and in an instant, his entire being vanished from notice; his physical form, his aura, even the subtle flow of mana around him ceased to be detectable, leaving no trace whatsoever.

"…Excellent," he whispered, a low murmur, before advancing without a second's delay.

Re-emerging from the hidden river route, Ethan entered the City of Haywire undetected. The moment his feet touched solid ground within its limits, his pace deliberately slackened as his gaze meticulously swept over the immediate surroundings.

The scene that greeted him was far from his expectations. Instead of a city fortified and organized for impending conflict, the place presented a visage of desolation and lassitude, as if its very spirit had been leached away. Buildings stood fractured, the streets appeared desolate, and even the air itself seemed burdened, heavy with a suffocating tension that permeated the entire locale.

Simultaneously, soldiers were an omnipresent sight. Groups of armed demon warriors maintained vigilant watch at various junctures, while regular patrols traversed the streets, indicative of the city remaining under a state of heightened alert. Ethan directed a brief glance towards the distant city walls but decided against approaching that sector. He surmised that significant figures might be stationed there, and despite the artifact's concealment capabilities, he was disinclined to court unnecessary peril.

His chosen path instead led him through the sectors inhabited by commoners, areas he believed would offer a clearer vantage point for observation without attracting undue attention.

As he progressed deeper into the city's heart, the atmosphere shifted once more, and what unfolded before his eyes next caused him to further decelerate his movement.

The thoroughfares teemed with demons, but they displayed no aggression or hostility as he might have anticipated. Instead, a profound weariness seemed to afflict most of them; they appeared broken, emotionally drained, and overwhelmed by something far more profound than the fear of war itself.

Some sat slumped on the ground, cradling their heads, while others rested against walls, their expressions vacant. A considerable number were weeping openly, seemingly indifferent to the world around them. The air resonated with hushed sobs and fractured voices, the pervasive sound of lamentation settling upon the streets like an oppressive mantle.

A slight frown creased Ethan's brow as he surveyed the scene. "What is happening?" he murmured to himself.

Continuing his traverse, he soon arrived at what appeared to be a medical district. Here, the gravity of the situation escalated dramatically. Pharmacies lined the streets in orderly succession, with lengthy queues congregating outside each establishment. Demons stood in silent, desperate anticipation, clutching bottles, prescriptions, or simply waiting, unsure of their next course of action.

Within the medical centers, personnel moved with hurried urgency, transporting supplies and issuing directives, while the influx of patients steadily climbed, rendering effective management an increasingly arduous task.

Ethan moved closer to one of the structures, peering inside. The instant his gaze fell upon the individuals receiving care, his expression grew noticeably taut.

Those reclining on the beds were not adults.

They were children.