Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

Chapter 500 The Expedition

The one-month deadline has passed.

The chilling summons arrived at the Crackhoof Mine at dusk, its wording simple: all troops under the command of the conscripts were to assemble on the scorched plains north of Whitebone Fortress, or face execution.

After reading the summons, Ian casually tossed it onto the table.

One day was just the right amount of preparation time. We've done most of the necessary preparations and recruited the necessary personnel. Now it's time to take the team out and deliver the results.

Three hundred and twelve people—that was the number Ian finally managed to come up with.

There were over a hundred idle demons, twenty scorpion demon patrols, and the rest were miners.

Nilos was not on the expedition list, and Ian left her at the mine to guard the stronghold.

The expeditionary force was poorly equipped, which even Nilos found unbearable to look at.

Those who were born into mining slavery mostly carried not weapons, but pickaxes.

The old weapons left behind by Ironjaw were distributed to those who seemed to have some fighting ability, but the number was far from enough. It was considered good if three out of ten people had weapons.

The situation is slightly better for the idle demons; most of them have their own weapons, though they may be old and worn, they are at least legitimate.

The Scorpion Demon Patrol was the only decent one, with twenty fully armed scorpions, their bone armor neatly arranged and their iron pincers gleaming. They walked at the head of the procession, putting on a show of strength.

On the morning of the assembly, Ian stood at the front of the line and scanned the area.

More than three hundred demons stood together, a dark mass, looking like a large group of people.

But a closer look reveals that the group's posture is crooked and awkward, with the last few even fighting over a piece of dried meat.

Drucker stood at the front with a serious expression, but Ian could see the tip of its tail trembling slightly.

Even the team leader was tense, which speaks volumes about the fighting strength of this team.

"Set off."

Ian waved and turned to walk towards the White Bone Fortress.

The Scorched Earth Plains, located north of White Bone Fortress, is a wasteland scorched by subterranean fires for a long time.

The ground was covered with charred cracks, from which hot steam occasionally spewed out, and the air was filled with the smell of sulfur.

When Ian led his team to the rendezvous point, a considerable number of demons had already gathered on the plain.

At a glance, there are at least a hundred teams, each ranging in size from several hundred to over a thousand.

The most conspicuous was a large group of over five thousand at the front, all of them skeleton demons, their armor neatly arranged, bone spears standing tall, and the mark of their leader engraved on the shells of each skeleton demon.

This is the Bone Demon's direct command team.

Next to the directly subordinate team, several large teams also had quite good equipment, mostly the direct subordinates of Cizgu or other generals.

Further down the line are people like Ian and his ilk.

The troops led by the various mine overseers were poorly equipped; some were slightly better organized, while others were in a sorry state, just like Ian's troops.

But Ian's team was still the most conspicuous, not because of its numbers, but because it looked the weakest.

In the other mine overseers' ranks, at least most of the demons had weapons.

Most of Ian's men were carrying pickaxes, making them look utterly ridiculous in front of the fully armed demons.

In a nearby column, a burly warlord stared wide-eyed, as if he had seen something strange.

"What is this? Fighting with a pickaxe?"

The warlords beside it joined in the laughter, their laughter sharp and piercing.

Further away, a massive serpent warlord glanced in their direction, its six arms crossed over its chest, a mocking sneer on its face.

"This isn't a campaign, it's a suicide mission."

The commanders of the surrounding troops heard it and burst into laughter.

In Ian's group, several demons who had been miners lowered their heads.

Drucker's expression was ashen, his pliers clenched so tightly they clicked, he wanted to rush over and argue, but he didn't dare.

Although Mog had a bad temper, he wasn't stupid. "Those are the warlords, don't mess with them."

Ian stood at the front of the line, without reacting at all.

He even hunched his strong body to make himself look shorter than he actually was.

The warlord beside him glanced at him, saw his bowed posture, sneered, and turned away, ignoring him.

In their eyes, a motley crew of pickaxes was a disorganized group that they wouldn't even bother to look at again.

Ian's lips curved slightly. Due to the surge in his strength, he felt much lighter and even had a mischievous thought.

The assembly lasted for about two hours, and all the teams gradually arrived.

Ian stood still and silently counted; the total number of demons on the plain exceeded one hundred thousand.

Of the more than one hundred teams, plus the Bone Demon's direct subordinates, the vast majority were cannon fodder, with no more than ten thousand truly combat-capable elites.

As the sun began to set, a figure appeared on the plain ahead, a figure that was chillingly cold.

Its condition today is completely different from before; the light in its eyes is like two burning flames, and a layer of war magic runes has appeared on its bone plates.

It was followed by four skeleton demons, each a size larger than any skeleton demons it had ever seen before, with equally intricate bone patterns on their carapaces.

Cigu walked to the high platform in the center of the plain and looked around at the ranks below.

The laughter and playful chatter vanished instantly, and the 100,000 demons fell silent, utterly still.

The piercing crack opened and closed a few times, emitting a dry, creaking sound.

"You all know why we're here." It cut straight to the point, "The Bone Demon Lord has launched a full-scale war against the Flame King."

Many of the demons present were actually unaware of this.

In fact, whether it's the mine warlord or the idle demon, in the eyes of the Bone Demon Commander, they are all of the same value: to be used to deplete the Flame King's forces.

Crackling continued, "The Flame King's forces have advanced to the Blackrock River. Your mission is simple: cross the Blackrock River and slaughter all living beings on the other side."

It paused for a moment, and the light from the crack became even brighter.

"If you die, you don't deserve to be remembered, but if you come back alive, I will give you land."

This is the war in the Abyss World: simple, brutal, and direct.

After finishing speaking, Cigu stepped down from the platform, glanced at the various teams, and his gaze lingered on Ian's team for a moment.

It saw the miners holding pickaxes, its facial cracks twitching slightly, but it said nothing.

"Set off."

Squads of demons began to move, advancing northwards from Bone Fortress.

Ian led the team to catch up, his position was clever, neither too far forward nor too far back, just sandwiched in the middle and slightly behind.

Ahead, several weaklings of similar strength blocked his way, and behind him, there was no risk of him being left out.

He no longer hunched over, but took long strides and looked around.

But no one looked at him anymore. The demons around him were all busy with their own things. Some were checking their weapons, some were whispering to each other, and some were starting to get nervous.

Ian walked steadily, seemingly nonchalant, his senses fully engaged.

His coverage extended from the front of the column all the way to the edge of the plain, and every demon within a radius of several miles was within his perception.

He waited patiently.

The moment the war begins is his moment of revelry.