The human Allied Forces command spent the entire day arguing before finally coming up with a clear war plan.
As Alvin had expected, the sensible people had ultimately taken control of this war whose outcome could already be foreseen.
The two Demon Royal forces that had come to throw their lives away had no intelligence, no tactics, and no clear objective. Worst of all, the troops of their two races were constantly tearing into each other.
It was not that those high-level demons were unintelligent. Their thinking had been shaped by thousands, even tens of thousands, of years of ingrained wartime habits.
In Hell, the factors that determined the course of a war were the number of demons, the combat power of high-level demons, and, most importantly, courage.
There might occasionally be battles where some coincidence allowed the outnumbered side to win, but in the vast majority of cases, the side with more demons held an overwhelming advantage.
Only when the royal regular army entered the battlefield did strategy and tactics come into play.
Concentrating superior forces for breakthroughs, concentrating firepower for bombardment and cover—Alvin had seen all of that himself.
But that was as far as it went. They had no use for anything more. The fixed social environment, social hierarchy, and order of power had maintained this ecosystem for thousands of years, and no demon thought there was anything wrong with it...
The disappearance of dozens of scouting birds had not attracted the enemy's attention. Perhaps releasing scouting birds had merely been a way for them to go through the motions.
No demon could have imagined that, on the land of the Blood Moor, someone was planning to swallow them whole...
Alvin stood before a large screen in the temporary command room, watching Zhang Qiang act as commentator