The third wall was different.

Where the outer two walls had been about territory and defense-in-depth, the third wall was about absolute denial. Consecrated stone three times thicker than the previous barriers, siege towers that hadn't been activated for the outer defenses, and now—with the Grand Commanders deployed—a killing ground designed to break armies.

Liam stood among the ruins of the second wall, watching his forces regroup for the next push. The demon army had lost cohesion in the brutal fighting—units were mixed together, command structures strained, and exhaustion was written across every face he could see.

"Casualty report," he said to Lieutenant Zara, who looked like she'd aged a decade in the past six hours.

"Eleven thousand eight hundred and forty-seven dead," she said flatly, her voice stripped of emotion. "Eight thousand two hundred and ninety-three wounded, roughly half still combat-capable. We're down to approximately one hundred and seventy-four thousand effective fighters."

Twenty thousand casualties. More than ten percent of the army gone in a single day of fighting.

And they still had to breach the third wall, fight through the city proper, and somehow kill a king while Grand Commanders hunted them.

"Water and ammunition?" Liam asked.

"Water is still adequate—we've captured enemy supply caches. Ammunition for ranged units is at forty percent. Medical supplies are essentially gone. We're performing battlefield triage with improvised materials." Zara paused. "And morale is... complicated."

"Explain complicated."

"Half the army is riding high on the breach success. They've broken walls that were supposed to be impregnable, and the Nameless Litany is preaching that Lord Azra is making the impossible reality." Zara's expression was carefully neutral. "The other half is doing math. Ten percent casualties for two walls means thirty percent casualties for all three. They're wondering if victory is worth being dead."

Liam was quiet for a moment, watching Commander Koth organize Legion One for the next assault wave. The scarred veteran was shouting encouragement mixed with threats, keeping his soldiers focused through sheer force of personality.

"Keep them moving," Liam said finally. "The moment we stop to think about costs is the moment we lose momentum. We're committed now. Forward is the only direction that matters."

"Forward into what?" Zara gestured toward the third wall where Grand Commanders were visible on the ramparts, their distinctive armor gleaming even at this distance. "Those aren't Paladins or regular Commanders. Those are the Radiant Empire's absolute best, and they're coordinating a defense with fresh troops who haven't been ground down by six hours of combat."

"Then we'll grind them down too," Liam said simply.

Zara stared at him. "You're serious. You're actually planning to just... brute force through Grand Commanders and elite troops with an exhausted army."

"Do you have a better plan?"

"Retreat. Regroup. Accept that we've bloodied their nose and damaged their prestige. Live to fight another day."

"There is no other day," Liam said quietly. "We're a hundred and fifty miles deep in enemy territory with maybe three days of supplies left. Retreat means slow death by starvation and harassment. The only way out is through."

He turned to face her fully.

"I know the costs, Zara. I feel every death like a weight I'll carry forever. But I also know what happens if we stop here. The Twenty-One Heroes train unmolested. They become unstoppable. And in four months, they begin systematically purging every demon in this empire." His voice hardened. "So yes, I'm going to brute force through Grand Commanders and elite troops with an exhausted army. Because that's still better odds than waiting for prophecy to manifest."

Zara was silent for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. "You're either the bravest god I've ever met, or the most insane."

"I'm the only god you've met."

That actually got a small, tired smile from her. "Indeed," she agreed, and went to relay orders to the legion commanders.

Lilith found him minutes later, her armor now properly stained with blood and ash. She'd been coordinating with the House representatives in the rear—making sure the political elements of the army maintained cohesion even as casualties mounted.

"The Houses are getting nervous," she said without preamble. "They're seeing the casualty numbers and starting to calculate whether supporting this offensive is worth the cost to their own power bases."

"Are they planning to withdraw their troops?"

"Not yet. But the whispers are starting. 'Is Lord Azra leading us to victory or suicide?' That sort of thing."

Liam felt a flicker of anger—not at the Houses for their political calculations, but at the simple reality that even now, even here, politics couldn't be escaped.

"What did you tell them?" he asked.

"That if they withdraw now, I'll personally execute their patriarchs for treason," Lilith said calmly. "And that Lord Azra has broken through two walls that were supposed to be impregnable, which suggests his track record for impossible achievements is fairly solid."

"Did it work?"

"For now. But Liam..." She moved closer, voice dropping. "You need to give them something. A victory that's more than just 'we're still alive and moving forward.' Something definitive that proves this offensive will succeed."

"Like what?"

"Like killing a Grand Commander in front of the entire army," Lilith said. "Public. Visible. Undeniable proof that even their best can't stop you."

Liam considered that. She was right—faith required feeding, and soldiers needed to see not just that they were progressing, but that their leader could overcome the seemingly insurmountable obstacles in their path.

"Set it up," he said. "When we assault the third wall, make sure everyone can see. I'll kill whichever Grand Commander gets in my way first."

"That's the spirit," Lilith said dryly. "Casual confidence in the face of opponents who've spent decades perfecting the art of killing demons."

"I killed Grand Commander Orin."

"Barely. And you've gotten how much stronger since then?"

It was a fair point. His core combat abilities had evolved—Phase Shift was more efficient, Infernal Conflagration burned hotter, Sovereign's Dominion had wider range. But had he actually increased in raw power enough to make fighting Grand Commanders significantly easier?

[Current Status]

[Stage: 4-Star Greater Fiend]

[Essence: 52,340]

[True Essence: 800]

[Evolution Points: 40]

Forty Evolution Points. Enough to potentially unlock new abilities or enhance existing ones. But did he have time to experiment with the System in the middle of an active battlefield?

"I'm strong enough," Liam said with more confidence than he felt. "And if I'm not, I'll improvise. That's what I do."

Before Lilith could respond, horns blew from the third wall—not Radiant defensive signals, but something else. A challenge, clear and unmistakable.

Both of them turned to look.

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