My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill-Chapter 362

HUMAN OPERATIONS:

The three Royal Shadow Corps infiltrators departed from Elric’s command tent wearing night-dark leather armor treated with alchemical compounds that absorbed light rather than reflecting it. Their faces were obscured by hoods and dark wrappings that left only their eyes visible. Weapons were minimal but deadly—short blades coated in fast-acting poison, garrote wires for silent kills, throwing knives balanced for accuracy.

Each carried an identical pack containing:

Three alchemical incendiary flasks designed to ignite wet grain

Smoke bombs for escape

Lock-picking tools

A suicide poison capsule (to prevent interrogation if captured)

Dried rations and water for the mission

A small crystal that would shatter if the bearer died (signaling mission failure to Elric)

They moved in single file, the lead infiltrator navigating by memorized terrain features. No lights, no sounds except occasional hand signals that communicated: Stop. Wait. Proceed. Danger.

They circled wide around Second Line’s defenses, giving the fortified walls a berth of half a mile. Settlement defenders on those walls would be watching for frontal approaches, not flanking movements through difficult terrain.

The infiltrators moved through a rocky gulley that provided concealment, their soft-soled boots making no sound on stone. They had scouted this route for two days, identifying every obstacle, every line of sight, every potential ambush point.

Two hours of careful navigation brought them to the northwestern approach to Third Line. Here, the settlement’s incomplete fortifications showed gaps where construction had been abandoned when the human army arrived ahead of schedule.

The lead infiltrator held up a fist: Stop.

All three went to ground, becoming motionless shadows among the rocks. They watched Third Line for fifteen minutes, observing patrol patterns, looking for guards, identifying which sections were manned and which were simply walls with no one behind them.

The northwestern gap was exactly as scouted—a fifty-yard section where the wall was only six feet high instead of the planned twelve feet. Worse, there was a ten-foot gap where two wall sections didn’t quite meet, left incomplete when work crews ran out of time.

The lead infiltrator signaled: No guards visible. Proceed with caution.

They approached the gap in three-minute intervals, one at a time, using maximum stealth. The first infiltrator crossed, finding concealment on the far side. Five minutes later, the second followed. Five minutes after that, the third.

No alarms. No arrows. No indication they’d been detected.

They were inside Third Line.

Simultaneously, at Second Line, Seraphina’s corruption magic network detected the intrusion with instant precision.

The demon lord stood in the command tent, eyes closed, consciousness extended through the web of detection spells her specialists had woven across the settlement. When three human life-forces crossed Third Line’s northwestern gap, the disturbance rippled through her awareness like stones dropped in still water.

"Infiltrators detected," Seraphina’s mental voice cut through the telepathic network with cold precision. "Three humans, northwestern approach to Third Line. Moving toward the settlement core. Life signatures match trained soldiers—controlled breathing, efficient movement, professional stealth."

Lyra felt a surge of vindication. She’d predicted this.

"Let them pass," Lyra commanded immediately. "Do not intercept. Do not reveal we’ve detected them. Let them think they’re succeeding."

"They’re heading for the warehouse district," Seraphina reported, tracking the infiltrators’ movements through her corruption magic network. "Current trajectory will bring them directly to the central food warehouse in approximately thirty minutes."

"Perfect. Warehouse defenders—they’re coming to you. Stay hidden until they’re fully committed. I want them inside the warehouse, actively attempting sabotage, before we spring the trap."

Kelvin’s mental voice responded from the warehouse district. "Understood. We’re ghosts until the moment we’re not."

"Seraphina, maintain surveillance. Feed Kelvin updates on their exact position so he can position defenders optimally."

"Already doing it."

Lyra turned to the tactical map, moving three red markers to represent the infiltrators’ current position. Her mind raced through contingencies. If the trap failed, if the infiltrators escaped, if they succeeded in burning the warehouse...

No. The trap would work. It had to.

"All raid teams," Lyra continued, shifting to the settlement’s offensive operations, "you are clear to proceed. Hit your targets hard. The humans’ attention is about to be very focused on their failed infiltration. Use that distraction." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

SETTLEMENT OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS:

Sixty serpentfolk warriors gathered at the northern postern gate—a small, concealed exit from Second Line designed specifically for covert operations. The gate was only four feet wide and positioned in a shadowed section of wall that didn’t face any human observation posts.

They wore clothing dyed in dark greens and browns that would blend with nighttime terrain. Their scales, naturally mottled for camouflage, were further darkened with mud and ash. Each carried weapons designed for silent killing: curved knives, garrotes, short spears for throwing.

Chief Ssk’thar addressed them through Seraphina’s telepathic network, his serpentine mental voice carrying the cold certainty of a predator addressing his hunting pack.

"Tonight we teach the humans fear. Targets: supply dumps, rest camps, isolated guard posts. Kill silently when possible. Spread terror when silence fails. Make the humans understand that darkness belongs to those who were born to it."

His tongue flickered, tasting the air. "Remember your training. Strike from shadow. Withdraw before reinforcements arrive. A live serpentfolk who escapes is worth more than a dead serpentfolk who kills one more human. We are hunters, not berserkers."

Mental acknowledgments rippled back from twelve squad leaders, each commanding five warriors.

"First principle: stealth over confrontation. Second principle: target value over body count. Third principle: if things go wrong, withdraw immediately. We cannot afford casualties in failed raids."

More acknowledgments.

"You have full operational freedom. Hit what you can, avoid what you can’t, and be back before dawn. Move out."

The serpentfolk raiders slipped out of the northern postern gate like shadows given form. Within thirty seconds, they’d vanished into the darkness between Second Line and the human positions at First Line.

Thirty of Vex’ahlia’s purple-skinned elites assembled separately at the western postern, preparing for a different mission. Where the serpentfolk were hunters conducting raids, Vex’ahlia’s demon warriors were assassins conducting surgical strikes.

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