At this thought, Yeenoghu gritted his teeth in hatred. As a veteran demon lord, the wealth he had accumulated could only be described as astronomical. If it was truly stolen, he would not be able to recover for a thousand years.
So, if he wanted his future days to be a little easier, he had to take back his life savings.
As Yeenoghu steeled himself, he rubbed his chest. Escaping from Malcanthet's grasp had not come without a price. Malcanthet had left at least three wounds on him that could not heal for the time being. Those wounds carried Malcanthet's power and could not possibly close in a short time. On top of that, in order to flee, he had used his ultimate escape trump card and directly shed a layer of his own flesh, nearly damaging his very foundation.
Yeenoghu was therefore currently at only half his peak strength. That was why he had chosen to swallow his pride and come to Doresain's territory rather than launch a forceful attack and return directly to his own realm to slaughter everything in his path.
Yeenoghu had never been a brainless demon lord. On the contrary, he was renowned among demon lords for his cunning.
What followed was simple. The enormous ghoul army poured into the Screaming Peaks like a tide, turning this mountain range of black rocks and barren peaks into a paradise for undead creatures.
The savage tribes and other demonic creatures that had originally lived here suffered a catastrophic disaster. The ghouls' hunger could never be satisfied. They cared nothing for rules or orders when hunting for food; even Doresain, the King of Ghouls, could not control them.
In the Abyss, the breadth of the ghouls' diet was astonishing. Aside from stone and steel, they ate practically everything.