Chapter 382: Damian Steps In
Even as the war descended into complete chaos, Damian did not move. He remained seated upon his throne high above the clouds, one leg resting over the other while his chin leaned lazily against his fist.
From that height, the entire nation lay exposed beneath him like a living map. Every explosion, every advancing column of soldiers, every desperate retreat and every prayer reached his senses with startling clarity. He watched without interfering, allowing the battle to unfold exactly as it wished.
The United States continued losing despite possessing overwhelming military superiority. Their commanders searched frantically for answers while analysts buried themselves beneath endless satellite feeds and battlefield reports. Yet none of them could explain why the war had suddenly begun slipping through their fingers.
Damian, however, understood almost immediately.
His violet eyes calmly swept across Lebanon until they finally settled upon four separate locations. Hidden from ordinary sight, Kaizer had stationed four dragon demigods across the country. Each occupied a carefully selected position, and together they formed a massive divine formation that blanketed the nation.
One stood upon a mountain overlooking the eastern skies, silently destroying every aircraft, missile and drone that crossed into Lebanese airspace. Another remained hidden beneath Beirut, continuously empowering every Blood Dunes devotee with Wrath’s berserker authority, allowing even ordinary soldiers to continue fighting after suffering wounds that should have killed them. A third lurked beneath the Mediterranean, quietly destroying warships before they could properly support the invasion, while the final dragon moved constantly across the front lines, personally intervening wherever the Blood Dunes seemed close to collapse, tipping every battle back in their favor through means no mortal commander could ever explain.
No matter how many troops America deployed or how much firepower it committed, nothing would fundamentally change while those four remained alive.
Below him, another American fighter squadron crossed the border. For less than a second everything appeared normal. Then crimson light briefly flickered somewhere upon the mountains.
Boom!
Six aircraft disappeared almost simultaneously.
Farther west, another destroyer vanished beneath the Mediterranean after a violent internal explosion tore it apart from within.
Elsewhere, an entire platoon of Blood Dunes devotees continued charging despite being riddled with bullets, tearing through fortified American positions before finally collapsing only after their bodies physically failed.
Damian quietly watched it all.
"If this continues," he murmured, "Lebanon will become America’s Vietnam."
The prayers rising from below became increasingly desperate. Millions of voices unconsciously reached toward him, begging for salvation, guidance or simply a miracle. Those who had begun worshipping Shumukh now found their faith wavering under the relentless weight of reality. Every American defeat weakened their confidence while every Blood Dunes victory reminded them why fear had ruled this land for generations.
Damian slowly shut his eyes.
"Humans are quite fickle," he said calmly. "It’s easy to lose their attention. I finally understand why deities become so desperate when it comes to controlling mortals and keeping their devotion."
Behind him, Racheal leaned over the back of his throne until her face appeared beside his. A playful smile rested upon her lips as she quietly studied his expression.
"The more you speak," she said softly, "the more I forget you used to be human."
Damian rolled his eyes without looking at her.
"Don’t start. I’m already pissed Rin isn’t speaking to me, and it’s all your fault."
"My fault?" Racheal pressed both hands against her chest and widened her innocent eyes with exaggerated disbelief. "I only made a request. You were the one who agreed because you wanted to. If anyone is to blame, it’s you."
For the briefest moment Damian nearly spat blood from sheer annoyance. His jaw tightened instinctively before he caught himself. He inhaled slowly through his nose, held the breath for several seconds and then released it just as calmly. The annoyance vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.
His recent training was finally bearing fruit.
Rather than argue further, he simply returned his attention to the battlefield below. Silence settled between them as Damian considered each target carefully.
The dragon atop the mountain controlled the skies.
The dragon beneath Beirut sustained the berserker authority empowering every Blood Dunes devotee.
The one beneath the Mediterranean denied America control of the sea.
The last continuously moved through the front lines, quietly manipulating battles in Wrath’s favor.
From his throne, Damian could sense each of them with perfect clarity but he couldn’t decide on which to kill first.
"If you’re wondering who to kill first," Racheal said as she gently rested one hand against his chest from behind, absentmindedly tracing small circles over his shirt, "then let me ask you one question."
Damian raised an eyebrow.
"Whose death benefits the United States the most?"
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
If he eliminated the dragon interfering directly with the ground battles, the berserker authority would still remain active. Every Blood Dunes devotee would continue fighting like an immortal fanatic.
If he killed the one empowering the devotees first, the battlefield commander would still be capable of overturning countless engagements personally.
The naval dragon mattered the least for now. America’s fleet had already been forced to withdraw beyond the affected waters, making the Mediterranean a secondary concern.
That left only one answer.
"The mountain."
He slowly leaned back into his throne.
"Air superiority changes everything."
Without the dragon maintaining the aerial barrier, American aircraft would immediately regain access to Lebanese airspace. Precision strikes, close air support and reconnaissance would return overnight. Even berserk soldiers could not survive sustained bombardment from the sky. The ground forces would finally have room to breathe, regroup and reorganize.
"I guess we’ll be killing the one on the mountain first," Damian said quietly before turning his head toward Racheal.
Only then did another thought occur to him. She had wanted to accompany him ever since the fighting began. His eyes lingered on her beautiful face before slowly drifting toward the horizon once more.
Compared to dragons, Racheal’s bloodline stood considerably lower within the Underworld’s hierarchy. Succubi possessed remarkable talents, but dragons represented one of the oldest and most dominant bloodlines in existence. Every dragon demigod serving Kaizer was among his most trusted followers, individuals personally nurtured for centuries. In terms of raw bloodline alone, they possessed every natural advantage.
Damian could not help wondering whether sending her into such a battle was truly wise.
After several seconds, he finally asked, "The dragon... should I handle it, or will you?"
Racheal smiled without the slightest trace of hesitation.
"I’ll handle it."