The Seventh Year the Demon King Captured the Holy Monarch

TL: Changed “King” to “my King”. It was how the demons originally addressed the Demon King in the first chapter. Even the servants addressed him as “my King”. I somehow found it weird, and (I am very sorry) made small changes. Anyway, I’ll use “my King’ from now on.

 

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The horn was cut off!

 

There was complete silence around.

 

Cutting off a horn, for the demons, was a lifelong shame.

 

“Slave, you mad!! A dog wearing a forbidden chain dares to…unexpectedly dares to cut off the horns of a demon chieftain!!”

 

Wa Tie struggled crazily, and the two sergeants behind him could hardly hold him down, “You, that knife—that knife!”

 

 Knife!

 

As soon as he shouted, the horrified eyes of all the demons fell on the bronze scimitar held in Langmuir’s hand.

 

The hard horn, like stone and iron, with Langmuir who was physically very weak, how could he possibly cut off Wa Tie’s horn with his own strength?

 

“That’s the Demon King’s scimitar!” cried a prisoner of war.

 

Unlike those tribal leaders, the Demon King Hun Yao did not like such luxury minerals like refined silver, black iron, and honey gold, and he had little interest in gems rich in magic power.

 

He used his own demonic breath to temper weapons, refining copper and iron over and over again, until the bronze scimitar could cut off the divine sword made of honey gold or the horns of a great demon.

 

But this knife, how did it fall into the hands of the human?

 

In the abyss with strict bloodline hierarchy, if ordinary demons or inferior demons touch the weapons of a great demon without authorization, there’d only be death.

 

What’s more, Langmuir is just a human slave, how dare he use the Demon King’s personally tempered precious knife to cut off a great demon’s horns!

 

Yet, why were none of the guards stationed in the main tent stepped in to stop him?

 

Why did even the generals under Hun Yao turn a blind eye to this?

 

The prisoners of war who once belonged to the old Wa Tie Tribe raised their faces and looked at each other in disbelief. They seemed to realize something, but still couldn’t believe it.

 

“Bravo, bravo, how dare the slave touch the master’s knife!”

 

Only Wa Tie, who was in a state of madness, had no idea. He grinned widely, exposing his blood-stained teeth, “Watch, wait until the Demon King comes back, he will bite your neck off and ask ten wild dogs to fuck your corpse…”

 

Langmuir was silent, and suddenly stretched out his hand to pull the red-haired female demon next to him, and asked in a low voice, “Why bite? I didn’t know that my King has a habit of biting people.”

 

“And why is it,” he frowned and gestured, “Ten wild dogs, fuck the corpse…”

 

“Lord Langmuir!” Mo Duo interrupted with twitching eyes, “At such times, you don’t have to be modest and ask questions, it’s just a swear of obscenities to you!”

 

Langmuir shook his head. “Oh, I thought this was some kind of tribal custom.”

 

After he finished speaking, he quickly retracted the knife back to its sheath, and the corners of his white sleeves raised an arc.

 

Langmuir’s eyes no longer stayed on Wa Tie, but instead he turned and walked towards the kneeling prisoners behind him. Two demon sergeants guarded him, while Mo Duo was following behind.

 

“Swear allegiance to my King,” Langmuir said, “and I will pardon your lives.”

 

Looking around, these demons were almost all inferior demons, clothes ragged and a mere bag of bones. They were not tribal warriors, thus they were not chained and only tied their hands and feet with hemp ropes.

 

An old demon with skin as wrinkled as an ancient tree bark raised his head tremblingly and said in a desolate voice, “My blood, life and soul’s loyalty, belong to my leader.”

 

Langmuir was noncommittal and looked behind him. “The same goes for your daughter and grandson?”

 

The old demon moved in fear and blocked a young female demon holding a baby tightly.

 

Langmuir walked over, and under the panicked look on the female demon’s face, he gently opened the swaddling clothes in her arms.

 

It was a few months old little demon, was drooling and sleeping peacefully there.

 

“He is still so young,” Langmuir lowered his eyes and said softly, “but how beautiful he is. In twelve years, he will be a handsome young man. He will ride a wildebeest in my King’s royal court, or wave a whip to drive away wild sheeps…but he’s still so young now.”

 

The old demon knelt there in a daze, as if his soul had been drained away by witchcraft. Suddenly, he raised his neck and began to cry loudly, and the young female demon behind him also began to cry. But she was silent, biting her lips, while tears fell on the swaddle in her arms, drip by drip.

 

Langmuir waited quietly. The old demon cried in tears for a moment, then cut his tail open with trembling sharp claws. He wiped the blood on his forehead and heart and kowtowed heavily, “My King is Hun Yao, my blood, life and soul returns…”

 

Wa Tie began to curse, but was quickly drowned out by more voices swearing allegiance. These demons all know who was the real King of the Abyss, and they also know that surrendering to the King was the only way to survive.

 

Suddenly, thunderous sounds of horse hooves sounded outside the camp, and all the demons raised their heads one after another. A line of dust approached quickly, and a fluttering flag could be vaguely seen.

 

Mo Duo startlingly said, “This is the sound of the hooves of a wildebeest! My King’s army has returned?”

 

Langmuir’s expression also changed slightly. “…Yesterday’s letter said that there are still three days before the return trip, deceiving people again.”

 

In an instant, the team rushed to the camp like a gust of wind. With a sharp whistle sound, all stopped in unison.

 

In front of them were hundreds of dark red wildebeests. Their bodies were covered with iron armor, and the sharp horns on their foreheads and their four hooves were burning with flames. On the back of each wildebeest was a demon warrior holding a spear.

 

In front of the ranks, the largest wildebeest drove straight in. In a blink of an eye, it came to the front of the group of prisoners and stopped a few steps away from Langmuir.

 

With a clatter, the iron armor on the wildebeest made a colliding sound, then a pair of scaly feet stepped on the ground.

 

The demons around the tent knelt on the ground and shouted, “My King!”

 

The kneeling prisoners raised their eyes in panic.

 

The Demon King who returned from the battle also held a spear in his hand but did not wear heavy armor, and had only a hastily fastened ferocious helmet to cover his face.

 

He walked over topless, with gleaming scales. His long black hair was wildly braided into thick braids and hung down to his spine. Behind him was a huge lizard-like long tail, which would remind one of the dragon clan that had been submerged in the quicksand of history.

 

However, the most shocking thing was the top of the head——

 

One was a fractured coiled horn.

 

The giant black-scaled horn on the left had a graceful arc, was long and thick, and coiled forward almost in a circle like a black python, and then stood upright.

 

In the abyss, a demon’s coiled horns symbolized the nobility of the bloodline. For example, the leader Zhen Zan, who had always been proud of her horns, had a length that was barely the span of a hand. The Demon King’s horns were almost twice as long as Zhen Zan’s.

 

However, this was limited to the left horn.

 

Because the Demon King’s right horn was actually fractured.

 

Only about the height of a knuckle was left.

 

Even inferior demons didn’t have such short horns. When the Demon King walked slowly, the ugly fractured surface would be clearly exposed in front of all the tribesmen, symbolizing: that he was a loser with a fractured horn.

 

…It was said that the Demon King Hun Yao’s right horn was severed by humans at a time when he could still be considered a teenager.

 

It was said that it was a honey-gold feather arrow, engraved with the most sacred light spell, which came from the end of the sky and was shot to his coiled horn.

 

It was even said that the one who drew the longbow was the equally young Son of God at that time, the future Holy Monarch of mankind——

 

Langmuir Brett.

 

****

 

The northern wind made the tents flap loudly. Demon King Hun Yao casually dropped the spear in his hand and walked up to Langmuir.

 

Langmuir was stunned for a moment, and when he came back to his senses, he found that all the demons were kneeling to give a salute, he quickly lowered his head slightly and said, “My King.”

 

“This slave didn’t know that the Master was coming back, thus failing to welcome from afar,” he said in a humble tone, “pardon the offense my King.”

 

Many prisoners who had just sworn their allegiance in front of Langmuir now showed panic expressions——

 

This human being is really just a slave!

 

How could a mere slave, as humble as a piece of stone or a handful of dust, fulfill the grandiose promise and save their lives in front of the Demon King?

 

A deep voice came from above everyone’s heads. “Knife.”

 

Langmuir glanced at the bronze scimitar in his arms, and was about to hand it over, but was clasped by Hun Yao’s palm.

 

The Demon King slowly took off his helmet and threw it to the ground, revealing his face with sharp lines. In the depths of those crimson eyes, it seemed as though molten lava was ready to erupt.

 

“You touched my knife.” Hun Yao narrowed his eyes, “Who are you planning to kill?”

 

Not far away, Wa Tie began to cough up blood and laugh at the same time, shaking his head and saying, “Hun Yao…look what you have made of your human slave into…”

 

Clatter——

 

In the next moment, the string of beast tooth ornaments on Langmuir’s chest was tightly clenched. He was dragged over by the Demon King almost without any resistance, and bumped into the latter’s chest, which still carried the smell of blood.

 

“No to kill.” Langmuir whispered, “just…”

 

“Just used it to cut off a great demon’s horn?”

 

Hun Yao pressed down Langmuir’s neck, his right hand with its hard black scales and claws tightened its grip, his eyes becoming intensely darker, “Langmuir, you surprise me again…”

 

“Who gave you the power, to interrogate demon captives without authorization, decide the fate of rebel tribes, and even cut off the leader’s horns, hm?”

 

“…..”

 

Langmuir was a little out of breath, he frowned to endure it.

 

“Speak.”

 

Hun Yao pressed him to his chest, lowered his head and squinted at the human being in his arms.

 

The Demon King lengthened his gloomy tone and slowly urged. “Spe——ak.”

 

The huge tail swayed from side to side, and finally slowly wrapped around the human’s ankle. Its tough scales dangerously stood on end, and with just a bit more force, it would cut through the delicate skin.

 

Langmuir lowered his eyes, knowing that the slight tingling sensation represented an urging.

Hun Yao’s patience had always been very poor, and he had been granted great tolerance here, but this tolerance also had its limits.

 

Langmuir didn’t want to answer such a childish question, but it would do him no good to offend the Demon King, thus he had to say, “…you.”

 

After saying this word, he couldn’t help but sigh, and added, “It is my Honorable King, my Supreme Master, who gave the power to this slave.”

 

The group of demons knelt there, not daring to raise their heads. Their faces were pale and cold sweat was dripping down.

 

Only Mo Duo curled her lips and rolled her eyes with a look that said “I knew it would be like this.”

 

Hun Yao raised his head with satisfaction and burst out laughing. He pointed at the stunned Wa Tie, as happy as a naughty child who had succeeded in pulling off a prank.

 

So childish, so boring, is this even interesting? Langmuir closed his eyes helplessly, wanting to break free from the Demon King’s arms.

 

“My King came back much earlier than expected,” he said softly, “I originally intended to solve everything, then present the results…”

 

But Hun Yao, with sharp eyes and agile hands, rolled up the scaly tail, and the thin human was once again forced to fall into the Demon King’s arms, causing the latter’s long silver-gray hair to be

ruthlessly scrunched up.

 

“What, blaming me for coming back early, your eye irritates seeing me?”

 

“……no.”

 

“What is that?”

 

“I’m worried that my King will kill prisoners again after coming back.”

 

Hun Yao raised his eyes and looked at the group of demons tied up with hemp ropes. “Want the lives of these traitors?”

 

Langmuir nodded slightly, “Yes.”

 

Hun Yao grinned, revealing his sharp canine teeth. “No.”

 

“…………”

 

Looking at the Demon King’s army again, each observed with their heads lowered, obviously was already accustomed to the scene in front of them.

 

Only the chieftain, Wa Tie, had his face turn bright red from holding his breath.

 

He was like a chicken being picked up by the neck, with his Adam’s apple rolling, wanting to curse but unable to do so, “Hun Yao!! You…you…you!”

 

——Became the Demon King, but turned out like this!?”

 

——No, wait, you are still wagging your tail! You wag your tail at a human slave!?

 

Langmuir maintained his composure and placed his hand on the Demon King’s chest, implying, “It’s late at night, as for the matter of the captives……why not wait after tonight, and discuss tomorrow?”

 

The corners of Hun Yao’s eyes twitched, and he subconsciously pinched the back of Langmuir’s neck, feeling as if he had caught a snow-white rabbit.

 

As he thought this in his mind, the palm of his hand that had pinched the human skin felt itchy and his chest also felt hot. When he spoke, his voice was indeed hoarse, “Mmmm, can.”

 

The Demon King certainly knew what would happen tonight. This was not the first time that Langmuir had used this kind of trick. When the night got late, the human would wrap his soft arms around him and gently act coquettishly…..tsk tsk.

 

He knew it, but he just succumbed to it. Langmuir had his own sense of propriety, and thus reached a certain tacit understanding.

 

Well, it’s also quite nice.

 

With these thoughts in mind, Hun Yao took away the bronze scimitar that symbolized the Demon King’s authority from the slave’s hand and said.

 

“People of the Wa Tie Tribe, can decide their fate tomorrow morning. But the culprit of the rebellion, must pay the price tonight.”

 

In full view of everyone, the Demon King swung the scimitar with brute force.

 

The sharp instrument flew dozens of feet away in an instant, and with a ‘pu-chi’, was accurately inserted into Wa Tie’s throat.

 

Thud, the former chieftain fell down on his back.

 

And a pool of blood slowly spread.

 

A low roar surged from behind, and the warriors under the Demon King raised their spears high and then brought them down, wild roars emanating from their throats!

 

Langmuir also smiled helplessly. Suddenly his legs slackened as Hun Yao picked him up with one hand.

 

The Demon King held him in his arms as if there was no one around and raised his other arm. “Tonight, the remnants of Wa Tie have been suppressed. Let our wildebeests remove their armors and warriors, return to camp! These prisoners, do a head count and push them to the back tent, give them miscellaneous food and water.”

 

The roar of the demons became even louder, like thunder rolling.

 

“My King!” they shouted, “My King!”

 

“It’s up to you now, what are you going to use to make me soft hearted,” Hun Yao said with a low chuckle, “Langmuir?”

 

Soon afterwards, the Demon King effortlessly held his slave in his arms, as if he was about to enjoy his spoils, and happily strode into the main tent.