The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

Finrod looked at the battle reports coming from the front lines with a gloomy expression.

The situation at the front is unfavorable, and the losses are heavy.

The garrison's composition has changed, especially their equipment, which has become much better.

It seems they've sent out their most trusted guards.

Even so, the battle shouldn't have become so brutal. How could it have turned out like this just because it was a slightly stronger army fighting against each other?

Without a doubt, it must have been those incompetent subordinates who became arrogant and disregarded the garrison, resulting in them being caught off guard and suffering such heavy losses.

Finrod's rage was like a runaway flood, overflowing and raging. His face was contorted with fury. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, filled with naked killing intent and despair. His lips were clenched, and his teeth were grinding together, as if he wanted to tear the useless generals before him to shreds.

"Useless! You are all useless!" Finrod's voice was full of cold sarcasm. His angry rebuke echoed in the tent, making the generals present dare not utter a sound. They all lowered their heads and shrank their necks, afraid of becoming the target of his anger.

He suddenly swept his hand, knocking all the items on the table to the ground. Metal utensils and wine glasses hit the ground with a crisp shattering sound.

"You lot, you get cocky after taking down a few weak garrison troops? You get routed when you encounter better-equipped ones?" Finrod continued to roar, determined to make everyone present feel his rage. He wanted them to remember this defeat so they wouldn't repeat the same mistake.

Whether Finrod was really as angry as he appeared is hard to say.

His anger erupted like a volcano, uncontrollable. Finrod kicked over a table, scattering maps and documents all over the floor, but he stomped on it recklessly, as if venting all his frustration on these inanimate objects.

"Get out! All of you, get out!" He finally snapped, pointing to the tent exit and issuing an expulsion order to all the generals. "I don't want to see any more of you incompetent fools!"

The generals breathed a sigh of relief and fled the tent as if they were escaping.

The generals were very dissatisfied with Finrod, the so-called rebel leader, but dared not show it due to certain factors.

The ordinary soldiers in the rebel army were unaware of the true situation of the rebellion. They thought it was just an outbreak of discontent against the royal rule and believed that they were on the side of justice and had the support of the people.

The high-ranking generals all understood that the rebellion was able to proceed so smoothly with the support of the Demon Order. The reason why Finrod was able to become the leader of the rebels was simply because the Demon Order valued his royal bloodline and wanted to put him on as a puppet emperor. Did they really think they had any ability?

He was merely a loser in the battle for the throne.

They responded to Finrod's call to rebellion only because they knew the inside story: the royal family couldn't possibly resist the rebels aided by the demon cult. They thought it would be better to join the rebels, gain merit, and get a share of the spoils.

They could only endure Finrod's rage, since he had powerful backers.

It's better to be kicked out; at least you won't be a punching bag or a scapegoat for Finrod's hysterical outbursts.

The rebel generals and their so-called leader Finrod completely despised each other.

A utterly corrupt royal family and rebel armies each harboring their own ulterior motives.

These elves are not as noble and holy as they claim.

Perhaps living too long has damaged my brain; it seems that living too long isn't necessarily a good thing.

(Probably influenced by the book about spiders and penguins, the elves in my setting are not good people.)

After the generals left, Finrod immediately regained his composure.

He was indeed quite annoyed by these guys who could only bully small-time soldiers, but not to the point of going berserk and smashing things.

He had no expectations of this rabble, so he feigned great anger in order to dismiss these generals.

The generals were well aware of Finrod's collaboration with the demonic cult, but they were unaware of how they were connected, and they never imagined that a shadow had been lurking within their camp.

In the dim corners of the tent, the shadows seemed even darker than usual, twisting and deforming in the faint firelight, as if they had come to life.

"You're still here, right? You've heard about the current situation, haven't you? When will reinforcements be sent?"

The ability to become a shadow is a skill that only high-ranking professionals in the Netherworld and Shadow factions can learn. The Shadow Avatar in the Demon King's legacy was improved by the Sage.

The cultist in the shadows is Finrod's liaison with the demonic order, but naturally he cannot be a bishop-level figure, as a cultist of that level would not be used as a mere liaison.

A chilling, unspoken voice emanated from the shadows: "Find your own solution. We'll observe for a while."

Upon hearing this, Finrod immediately became displeased.

"Hey, you promised to help me ascend the throne, and now we've been fighting for so long without even capturing the capital. You should be getting anxious, right? Now you're saying you want to wait and see. What, you don't want to keep your promise? Well, then you won't get what I promised!"

The figure in the shadows paused, then continued in a sinister voice, this time tinged with helplessness: "We naturally hope to end the battle quickly, but the situation has changed, and we have to change our battle strategy."

"Something's changed?" Finrod shrewdly seized on this phrase: "What happened? That so-called Shadow Court isn't your match, is it? What other unexpected events have occurred?"

The person in the shadows pondered for a moment, but ultimately decided to say more, considering their existing cooperative relationship with Finrod.

"The Shadow Court has sent reinforcements. They are still outnumbered by us, but they are enough to pose a threat. If we are not careful, we may suffer heavy losses or even perish here."

We and the Shadow Court are both lurking in the shadows, currently engaged in a game of strategy, waiting for one side to lose patience and make its move. The side that makes the move later will have a significant advantage.

The Archbishop instructed you to suppress the garrison as much as possible. Once you reach the city, they will become impatient. At that point, you can wipe them out in one fell swoop. The Archbishop will also intervene, and the throne will be within your grasp.

The cultist in the shadows held a decent position within the faction, thus knowing the archbishop's strategic plan. He relayed the instructions to Archbishop Finrod and, incidentally, offered Finrod a promise.

Having understood the situation, Finrod was no longer impatient; he still had a sense of the bigger picture.

"Okay, I'll do my best."