Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

The next second, 102 demon warriors, led by Ice Demon Garr and Lavas, straightened their bodies simultaneously.

Their right fists slammed heavily against the armor on their left breastplates, producing a unified, dull thud.
"Yes, Commander!"

Cohen looked at the team before him, which had already been marked with his own mark, and nodded slightly.

His face remained expressionless; he simply uttered a single word:

"it is good."

Then he whirled around, facing the distant, faintly visible, dark red cliff that rose like the spine of a giant beast, and commanded in a resolute voice:
"Let's go! Our goal—the path to conquest!"

The so-called "Stairway to Conquest" is a huge, dark red cliff located on the edge of Aphonas, rising in tiers.

It stands like a giant guillotine on the banks of the churning River Styx.

This is the final gathering place for all demons, otherworldly beings, and even mortal souls who are tempted or forced to come to the Nine Hells, all eager to prove their worth, gain merit and promotion in bloody battles.

Countless figures, driven by ambition or despair, flocked to this place from all corners of the Nine Hells and even the multiverse.

Here they undergo final inspection and reorganization, and then are scattered like beans onto the bloody battlefields where cannon fodder or elite troops are most needed.

This is where ambition begins, where countless dreams and desires are ignited.

But this is also the end point for the vast majority of lives. Every day, countless souls embark on their journey of no return from here, and their flesh and soul will eventually become nourishment for this scorched earth.

The ladder to conquest, the ladder to chaos; those who wish to ascend the throne must first become nourishment for the ladder!
The day and night of travel passed in the blink of an eye.

When Cohen led his squad to the Conqueror's Ladder, a barbed mage officer clad in heavy black runic armor seemed to have been waiting there for some time.

Upon seeing Cohen, the officer immediately strode forward to meet him.

A ferocious smile was forced onto his face, almost fawning, though it looked particularly distorted and incongruous against his spiked features.

The barbed-hair officer deliberately lowered his voice and said respectfully:

“My lord, I am the commander of the Conqueror's Order. You may call me Evans.”

As he spoke, he took a diamond-shaped token that shimmered with a dark red light and a stack of documents made of demon leather from a chain demon lieutenant behind him, and handed them to Cohen with both hands.

Evans's face still bore that unsettling smile:

"These are your and your warriors' identity badges and transfer orders."

By order of the Supreme Command, you and your unit are now officially incorporated into the 1st Special Operations Team under the 7th Theater.

After handing the medal to Cohen, Evans pointed to a box of badges behind him, indicating that these were the badges of the others.

Then he continued:

"Your identity badges will automatically record all the demons you and your warriors have killed, the strongholds you have captured, and every achievement you have made over the next ten days."

In order to ensure absolute fairness and impartiality in this highly anticipated test.

Evans slightly raised his hand, pointing to the majestic bronze fortress in the distance:

"The Bronze Fortress has activated 'Bloody Battle Monitoring Mode'."

Every move you make on the battlefield will be displayed in real time to the ten highest councilors and Grand Duke Zariel himself!

After saying this, his face once again wore that obsequious smile, and he bowed slightly, speaking in an almost fawning tone:

"I wish you a speedy completion of your trials and that you will become the prince consort of Afonas!"

Without a doubt, Evans, the commander of the Conqueror's Rank, must be one of Grand Duke Zariel's confidants.

He explained the various rules and precautions for the bloody battle in great detail, and every sentence seemed to contain some profound meaning and reminder.

After receiving the necessary supplies and confirming the activation of his identity badge, Cohen turned around to face the hundred solemnly standing demon guards behind him, as well as the two ice demons, Gar and Lavas, who exuded a chilling aura.

He said in a deep voice:

"set off!"

As they stepped onto the steps made of countless bones and charred rocks, it was as if an invisible gaze was cast from the direction of the bronze fortress above the entire Conquest Staircase, firmly fixed on them.

Cohen's bloody battle has officially begun!

When Cohen led his First Special Operations Team onto the "Stairway of Conquest," a path built from the bones of countless conquerors and charred rocks.

The air was unusually heavy inside the Bronze Fortress command hall, far away at the heart of Afonas's power.

Beneath the magnificent dome of the hall, Grand Duke Zariel sat enthroned on his throne.

On both sides, all ten members of the Supreme Joint Military Council were present, like ten silent statues of demon gods.

Their gazes were fixed on the huge magical projection screen in the center of the hall, which was filled with dark runes.

The changing light and shadow on the screen reflected the scene of the bloody battle on the front lines.

This observation is of extraordinary significance.

It is not only about the qualification of a potential son-in-law of Afonas, but also closely related to the ownership of the crucial position of commander of the Second War Zone, and even directly related to the change of command of a precious "Heavenly Punishment Legion".

The fact that such a significant exchange of interests involved made it impossible for any of the members of parliament present to remain indifferent.

They remained outwardly silent, but deep down they harbored their own calculations, their eyes scrutinizing the screen intently, both assessing the potential of the human named Cohen and closely monitoring Grand Duke Zariel's every move.

Guard against any underhanded maneuvering by this powerful ruler that could potentially influence the test of fairness.

Just as Cohen stepped onto the Conquest Stairs, one hundred and three clear points of light suddenly lit up on the magic projection screen.

One hundred of them were relatively dim white dots, representing the well-trained guards.

There were also two brighter blue dots, like ice crystals, which were the marks of the eighth-tier ice demons, Gar and Lavas.

The most striking feature was the bright red dot, as intense as blood, located at the very front of the line.

Like a beacon fire on a battlefield, it is unique and undoubtedly represents the core of this test—Cohen Corleone.

The array of red, blue, and white light spots was clearly presented to all the members of parliament.

Every move Cohen and his team made was now exposed to the unwavering gaze of the eleven supreme rulers of Avernus.

Like chess pieces on a chessboard, every move is related to the future landscape.

The hall was silent except for the faint hum of flowing magical energy.

The horned demon Knatu's fingers tapped unconsciously on the armrest of the chair, while the shadowy tentacles around the bearded demon Aranie twitched slightly. Each councilor was participating in this special gamble in their own way.

Grand Duke Zariel, seated in the main seat, remained expressionless, with only a barely perceptible glint in his eyes.

He spoke slowly, his voice low and deep, breaking the silence:

"Observation begins!"

……

Time ticked by in the silent command hall, the small array of red, blue, and white dots on the magic projection screen.

Initially, they simply moved steadily into the depths of the war zone along a relatively safe route.

The members of parliament either stared intently or exchanged opinions in hushed tones.

The attempt was to analyze Cohen's marching route to deduce the strategic intentions of this human consort candidate: whether he intended to steadily establish forward outposts or to find weaknesses and launch a lightning attack.

Logically speaking, this elite force of a hundred men led by Cohen, along with two eighth-tier ice demons, should be a formidable opponent.

To obtain the "Blood War Badge," he must defeat a well-organized medium-sized demon army within ten days.

And capture a medium-sized stronghold or supply depot.

Although the restrictions may seem few, in reality, very few people in this area meet the requirements.

Because Cohen could not afford to take such a huge risk leading this small force deep into enemy-occupied territory.

He could only look for fleeting opportunities in the relatively blurred outer areas of the battle lines.

Just as the councilors were considering various possibilities, a sudden, uncontrollable murmur of discussion arose in the command center.

A member of parliament sitting on the right suddenly raised his hand and pointed at the screen, a hint of surprise in his voice:
"He actually broke away from the group and headed straight for 'Rotten Paradise' all by himself?"

His words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating ripples throughout the command hall.

Another bone demon councilor spoke slowly, his tone full of incomprehension and doubt:
"He seems to be only an eighth-level superhuman. How dare a newcomer like him venture into a place like 'Rotten Paradise' without any guards?"

Isn't he afraid of dying there on the very first day?

All the members of parliament could clearly see that the conspicuous red dot representing Cohen had already separated from the main group.

It was moving rapidly toward an area marked in dark purple on the projection screen map, exuding an ominous aura, with unwavering speed.

That was the infamous "Festering Paradise" on the front lines of the bloody battle.

Another member of parliament replied:

"Could they be lost?"

A member of parliament immediately retorted:
"That shouldn't be the case. Evans must have provided him with a detailed topographical map before they entered the Bloodbath Zone."

"Could it be that he's trying to gather intelligence?"

Just then, a cold laugh filled with disdain and mockery suddenly rang out; it was from the horned demon Knatu:

"Him?"

Even for our top intelligence officers and agents, establishing a stable intelligence system in Rotten Paradise would require a considerable amount of time and resources.

What valuable information could a newcomer like him, unfamiliar with the place and its people, possibly obtain from there?

The demon Aranie glanced at the Grand Duke and said in a sinister tone:

"Your Excellency, could it be that this candidate for the position of consort couldn't stand the tedium of the bloody battle and went to the 'Festering Paradise' to indulge in pleasure?"
You know that kind of place; it's full of temptations and depravity, and it's extremely easy for people to lose their minds. Do you think we should inform the princess about this now?

Despite the question's obvious provocative tone, Grand Duke Zariel's face remained completely unmoved.

He didn't even glance at Aranie, his gaze fixed firmly on the red dot that moved alone on the magic projection screen.

He spoke in a deep, authoritative voice:

"Watch patiently!"

These three simple words instantly silenced all the whispers and speculations in the hall.

The "Festering Paradise" mentioned by the councilors is indeed a very special place in the battlefield.

It is not a military stronghold in the traditional sense, but rather the only gray area in this eternally bloody battlefield that is tacitly acknowledged by both sides, whether it is the devil legion or the abyss demons.

This area is mainly run by succubi who are skilled at bewitching and manipulating desires, and dream demons who are adept at weaving dreams and creating illusions.

On the surface, it was an "entertainment" outpost where frontline soldiers, mercenaries, and various opportunists could vent the stress of war and seek temporary solace.

But in reality, this place is a huge vortex filled with dangerous deals, secret meetings, and intelligence exchanges.

Behind those seemingly decadent pleasures lie countless undercurrents of conspiracy and betrayal.

There are no absolute friends here, nor are there eternal enemies, only eternal interests and desires.

This is why "Filthy Paradise" is seen by everyone as an extremely dangerous and depraved place.

Those with weak wills who step into it are likely to be devoured, leaving not even a trace of their soul.

What is Cohen's true purpose in choosing to go to this place alone?

This has become a huge question mark hanging in the minds of all the members of parliament.

……

After leading his men into the battlefield, Cohen did not rush to find a target, but instead issued his first order.

He instructed Ice Demon Garr and Lavas to lead their hundred elite demon soldiers to temporarily set up camp in a relatively secluded and easily defensible area of ​​weathered rock, and to construct simple defensive fortifications.

He instructed the two men to remain vigilant and not to make any moves until he returned.

Then, alone, like a ghost blending into the blood-red shadows, he sped towards the place marked "Festering Paradise" according to the map in his hand.

His goal was very clear.

To obtain the "Blood Battle Badge" or even higher merits within just ten days, brute force alone is not enough.

The rules require defeating an enemy force at least twice the size of your own with a smaller force, and also capturing a medium-sized stronghold.

On this vast and dangerous battlefield, blindly searching for such a target is like looking for a needle in a haystack, and it is extremely easy to fall into a trap.

Therefore, he must obtain sufficiently accurate and timely intelligence to understand the distribution of surrounding demonic forces, troop movements, and the strength of their strongholds.

The "Rotten Paradise," a chaotic vortex of information, was, in his eyes, the best source of information.

The so-called "Festering Paradise" is located inside and around a gigantic skull belonging to an ancient abyss lord, which is larger than one can imagine.

Despite the passage of countless years, this skull still exudes a chilling and malevolent aura.

The huge, empty eye sockets form the main entrance to the park, like a tunnel leading to another chaotic world.

The buildings in the park are bizarre and haphazard.

Most of them are haphazardly constructed from the remnants of war—broken weapons, shattered armor, the bones of unknown behemoths, and energy bodies forcibly solidified by magic.

It exudes a chaotic beauty that is both insane and twisted.

The air was filled with a strong, nauseating, mixed odor:

The smells of fresh and dried blood, cheap but burning liquor, pungent cheap perfume, and a strange aroma that seemed to come from rotting nectar.

These flavors intertwined, like an invisible net that corrodes the mind, enveloping the entire paradise.

The park is like a twisted marketplace, with each area offering unique "services".

In this lawless land known as "Festering Paradise," noise and chaos are its eternal themes.

However, beneath this endless madness lies an ironclad rule etched into the very bones of all who enter—"No violence allowed."

The creator and maintainer of this rule is none other than the founder of the park, the mysterious and terrifying "Plague Doctor" Salis, and his "Carbuncle Guards" who are transformed from those who violated the rule and whose bodies are covered with pus-filled sores.

Anyone who dares to engage in private fights here, regardless of their status or strength, will be ruthlessly suppressed.

The final fate is not simply death, but being transformed into a new living facility in the park for people's "entertainment," enduring eternal pain and humiliation.

Upon entering "Festering Paradise," the deafening sound waves nearly overwhelmed Cohen like a tangible tide.

The mad roar of the demonic engine, the frenzied howl from the abyss, the shrill music played on twisted instruments, the gamblers' desperate shouts and the groans that were indistinguishable between pain and pleasure mixed in.

All these sounds mingled together, forming a hellish symphony that shook the mind.

The sudden appearance of Cohen, a human of the Gold Rank, in this place filled with demons, devils, and monsters.

Just like a drop of water falling into a boiling oil pan, it instantly attracted the attention of many "interested people".

He hadn't taken more than a few steps when a slender and alluring figure, accompanied by a sweet and cloying fragrance, swayed her serpentine waist and blocked his way.

She was a succubus dressed in extremely daring and revealing clothing, with a seductive professional smile on her face, and her captivating eyes roaming freely over Cohen.

Upon seeing Cohen, he let out a string of slick laughs:

"Hehe, look what I've found! A young man with amazing courage!"
How dare they venture into the 'Skull Nest' alone!

As she spoke, she took another step closer, almost pressing her voluptuous body against Cohen.

Her scarlet tongue seductively licked her luscious red lips, and she whispered in a suggestive voice:

"This gentleman looks like it's his first time here. Would you like me to provide you with some unique and unforgettable service?"

The woman had seen countless prey like Cohen who had "gone astray," and they would eventually fall into her gentle trap.

However, Cohen simply looked at her quietly, his deep eyes revealing no trace of desire or panic.

There was only a cold, stillness, as if one were looking at an inanimate object:

"Thank you, no need."

He subtly dodged the succubus's arm as he spoke.

The succubus woman met Cohen's gaze and was slightly taken aback.

Cohen's gaze was too calm, almost cold, as if her carefully crafted charm was no different from a pebble on the roadside in his eyes.

A fleeting hint of surprise crossed her eyes, but it was quickly masked by a professional smile.

"What a boring guy."

She muttered to herself, but her face remained smiling as she stepped aside to make way, saying sweetly:

"Please make yourself at home, guest. If you change your mind, you can come find me anytime."

Cohen nodded expressionlessly and walked straight into the depths of the park.

Once Cohen was out of sight, the succubus quickly pulled a small communication stone from her bosom. Her fingertip glowed faintly as she rapidly typed in a few characters:

"Newcomer, human, Gold rank, clear objective, heading straight for the heartland."

Then, as if nothing had happened, she swayed her hips and greeted the next group of new guests who had just entered the park with bewildered eyes.

Cohen paid no attention to the incident behind him. He walked steadily through the bizarre streets, avoiding the revelers.

Following the directions they knew by heart, they soon arrived at a rather simple-looking tavern.

The tavern's sign was crooked, with "Rotten Skull Wine Cup" scrawled on it in the Abyssal language. A strong, indescribable odor wafted from inside.

He pushed open the door and entered, the noise inside rushing towards him, yet it seemed to be separated from him by an invisible barrier as it touched him.

Ignoring the curious, greedy, or wary glances directed at him, Cohen walked straight to the counter made of rough black stone.

He bent his finger and tapped it three times on the mottled tabletop, neither too hard nor too soft.

"Give me a private room."

Behind the counter, a balding man with cloudy eyes was slowly wiping wine glasses.

Hearing the sound, he raised his eyelids and caught a glimpse of Cohen—a golden-rank human, indeed conspicuous in this land overrun by demons and monsters.

A flicker of surprise flashed across his eyes, then he lowered his head, pretending to look through the greasy ledger on the table, and mumbled in a heavily nasal Hellish tongue:
"Private room? Room 305 is empty."

What kind of wine would you like?

Cohen shook his head, his voice steady yet carrying an undeniable air of authority:
"No, I want room 404."

The boss abruptly stopped wiping the wine glass, looked up, his facial muscles twitched almost imperceptibly, and his eyes instantly became sharp and wary.

He looked Cohen up and down, trying to find a flaw in the young human face.

After a long pause, he finally suppressed his turbulent emotions and spoke in as calm a tone as possible:

"Sir, you must have misremembered, or perhaps you've heard rumors from somewhere."

Our 'Rotten Skull Wine Cup' tavern only has three floors, where did room number 404 come from?

Cohen's lips curled into a faint, all-knowing smile. He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and made sure only the shopkeeper behind the counter could hear him:

"Tell your real boss that I'm not here to drink and have fun."

I'm here to discuss business! (End of Chapter)