Alvin sat beside a bonfire in the human Allied Forces' camp in Hell.
It had been five days since the Moloch had surrendered.
In the distant joint command center, a group of military experts from around the world were gathered, engaged in heated discussions about the battle that was about to come.
The armies of the Behemoth and Astral clans that had been spotted so far numbered more than 300,000 in total. As they advanced, scattered Demons across the Blood Moor were still sneaking off to join those cannon fodder troops.
Prince Baal didn't care one bit about the losses among his people. The number of Demons on the Blood Moor fluctuated with the intensity of the fighting.
As long as no large armies fought here, the number of Demons would soon return to its former level.
Baal cared about the middle- and high-ranking Demons. They were the last of the Moloch clan's bloodline, and the last of its fighting strength. If he lost them, there would be no point in the Moloch "King" keeping his position.
The focus of the argument in the makeshift command center was whether to exhaust the last of Baal and his people's strength, so that humanity could gain a greater say in this land.
Those big shots who were used to throwing their weight around on Earth had brought their old way of thinking with them...
Humanity's numbers in Hell were limited. Without help from Allies, how many troops would they have to commit just to hold this place?
Alvin didn't care one bit about the Demons' lives, but he certainly didn't approve of stabbing them in the back. Besides, dragging their feet right after forming an alliance was pretty underhanded.
Still, Alvin believed there were plenty of sensible people in the command center.