The effect was immediate.

The Argalon Mages had yet to disable the System, but as they sensed the magnitude of Mana being brought under the command of a Human, they rushed to activate their spells.

But the Mana only continued to grow in strength.

The other Humans were caught off guard, allowing the Demons to gain a larger area atop the battlements, but Alaster had long since surpassed the crutches of the System.

Demon Archers turned their attention to the top of the Tower where Alaster was conjuring the Death Bombs, but it was too tall. Very few arrows reached the top, and none that did had not the power to even budge the Necromancer, let alone scratch his armor.

The Engineers atop the tower took cover behind Pavise shields that had been set up atop each tower. Though none of the arrows had the power to lodge itself in the wood.

Seeing how ineffective the arrows were, the Mages turned their Magic to the tower.

Spears of earth, spikes of ice, blasts of fire, even blades of wind, all shot to the tower, taking small chunks out of it. But the angle was too much. The spells either hit too low, hitting the tower, or soared over and past.

Only a single fireball slammed into Alaster with a loud explosion. The Mages stopped to see if it had worked, even as the Infantry continued to charge forward and climb the ladders while the Archers turned their attention back to suppressing the Humans.

Flames and smoke obscured the tower, blocking all vision. The smoke clung to the top for several moments, allowing the Argalon Mages to hope.

A swift breeze blew away the smoke and took with it their hope.

Alaster stood in the same place, unmoved and unfazed by the direct hit that would have turned the average Expert into a charred and smoking heap.

Twelve large spheres of volatile Necrotic Mana hung over Alaster's head, the Reaper's scythe just waiting to claim lives for the afterlife.

The Argalon Mages felt their hearts sinking, knowing better than most Demons the capabilities of such Magic, and knowing they were the targets for it.

Alaster slowly lifted his arm, palm open to the ground.

An order for death.

The spheres of death shot forward, faster than an arrow, crashing into the mud and sending it flying before the spheres exploded.

An Argalon standing in formation of the third wave, watching the assault from a distance, watched the Magic explode. It chilled him to the bone. He watched his comrades in a thirty-foot radius of each sphere become washed in its explosion, leaving behind mere bone and armor. He watched living beings turn into nothing in just a moment.

Yet that was not the worst part.

It was the silence.

The spheres of Mana were completely silent, even as they exploded. There was no great boom, no pressure wave, no destruction. There was nothing. Nothing but the skeletal remains of once living beings, and the screams of those only partially caught by the Spheres' explosions.

In an instant, the lives of over a hundred Demons, Argalon and Devils alike, was extinguished.

It was not showy. There were no great fires, plumes of ice, or fields of stone spikes. It just was. One moment they were there, the next they were not.

The only evidence that anything had happened were the bones, and the lone figure standing firmly atop one of the towers.

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Daring the Demons to try again, to give him more victims. More lives. More souls.

It was then, staring at this lone man, the Demons realized that Humanity would not just keel over and give up. It was then that the Demons realized the horrors Humanity would create.

It was then the Demons realized, that Humanity was something to be feared.

The Argalon General stood atop his raised stone platform, having watched the same scene as the rest of his army. He looked at the soldiers, his soldiers. Men and women, he had personally trained for years. Soldiers that had faced the horrors of warfare against Angels numbering in the millions without fear. Soldiers that now shivered as they struggled not to flee.

The General looked to his Officers around him, saw how their faces paled. They had seen thousands die in a single attack many times before, but this was different. Even the Gods of Humanity displayed some emotion as each attack of their claimed thousands. Some displayed sorrow, some fury, others even displayed joy in their demeanor.

It was not the act of killing over a hundred of their number that caused fear to blossom in their hearts. It was the cold way it was done. Not as something the lone figure relished or hated or even as something he was forced to do. But simply as something that had to be done.

This single Human, killed over a hundred of them, and did so effortlessly, and with the emotional state of an accountant going about another day of calculations.

The Argalon were deeply attuned with nature and emotion. That is what allowed them such great success in growing in power and Magic. They could even feel the emotions of those around them, somewhat. They were used to feeling hate from the Humans.

But when they looked at this Human, they felt nothing but apathy. A total lack of care.

No hate. No sorrow.

Nothing.

A complete void of emotion.

The General growled and issued the order to stand down and retreat. He had hoped to conquer this Human City in a week. He had hoped to be the first to reach the designated Human Reservation. A feat that would garner him respect and recognition even among those ranked higher than he.

But he knew defeat when he saw it. And he saw defeat in the eyes of his soldiers.

The battle was lost for the day. But the siege was not.

The order was repeated throughout the army and the soldiers fell out of formation, returning to their prior duties. A horn was blown, signaling the retreat.

The remnants of the second wave, and the survivors of the first, fled, rushing to get out of range of the Human Archers who jumped at the chance to shoot the fleeing Demons in the back. Many Demons did not make it.

The Humans cheered and congratulated each other before slumping over in exhaustion, but they were not done. There was still much to do.

The fires in the city had to be put out. Repairs to the walls and towers had to be carried out. The injured had to be escorted to the hospitals and treated. Armor had to be repaired or replaced. Weapons had to be sharpened and maintained. Arrow barrels had to be refilled. Ammunition for the Siege Engines had to be carried to them.

Alaster watched as the soldiers dragged themselves to their feet and got to work. But he watched though the eyes of his Shadows. He refused to look away from the Demons, ensuring he was in full view of their entire army.

But even as he stood there, he had one of his Shadow Assassins approach the City Lord in physical form, ensuring that his bodyguards saw the Shadow before allowing it forward.

Keylan glanced away from the window overlooking the Outer Walls to see the Shadow offer a cube of polished iron. A Cude enchanted with Telepathy. So long as someone touched the Cube, they would be able to telepathically communicate with whoever held its twin, which Alaster did.

It was a cheap enchantment, one that most professional Enchanters knew, though only a few knew how to do it well. Alaster did not. Even as he spoke the first word, he felt the Enchantment begin to fall apart.

"What are the damages to the city?" Alaster asked without moving a muscle from the tower.

Keylan sighed, "Far from inconsequential. Though nothing critical was destroyed or damaged. Most of anything critical is underground or too well protected from their trebuchets. The fires are concerning, but our crews are putting them out well enough."

"Losses?"

"I have yet to receive any reports from the Wall, and I don't expect to for at least an hour, even then it would be speculative. However, I expect that there are a few within the city. We are still in the process of evacuation. There are still civilians in the city, though only a small fraction.

Our City Guard were quick to rush everyone to safety, but I have no illusion that some perished. The Station, however, is completely untouched and running smoothly. Or at least as smoothly as it can."

"The Enchantment is breaking. I will remain at the wall, standing vigil. They seem to be scared of me so hopefully that will buy you more time to finish the evacuation. If you have need, merely speak to one of the dark spots around you. One of my Shadows will hear you and notify me."

"I don't like being spied on constantly." Keylan grumbled.

"Don't worry, I have at least one Shadow watching over everyone important in this City. Usually more than one. Have since before the Demon Invasion began. They know when to look away." Alaster finished with a smirk beneath his mask before the enchantment broke and the Cube in his hand cracked into two.

Keylan handed the broken parts to one of his aids and sighed, "That does not sooth my nerves boy."

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