The Seventh Year the Demon King Captured the Holy Monarch

That day, when Hun Yao brought Langmuir back to the camp, he had already vomited blood all the way, and his breath was so weak that it was almost inaudible.

The Demon King almost rolled down from the saddle, hoarsely shouted “Save him,” and then completely lost his voice.

Later, Duogu and other demons said that after that, he was like a wooden puppet, holding Langmuir with a dull gaze, motionless, and speechless.

The witch doctors who rushed over were scared. In the end, Duogu braced himself and burned some sedatives to stun the Demon King, and then they could start to save him.

For those few days, Hun Yao repeatedly fell into nightmares, neither waking up nor completely losing consciousness. Perhaps it was due to the recurrence of old injuries, or perhaps it was due to something else.

The dream was full of fragments of Langmuir.

He dreamed of the son of god in his youth, the Holy Monarch after adulthood, and the slave kneeling in front of him… He dreamed of Langmuir’s smile, tears, and blood, and dreamed of Langmuir looking up at the Cliff Moon with a faintly sad pupil.

He dreamed that Langmuir arranged his death, but died earlier than him, dying at the bottom of the abyss without sunlight or fragrance.

Thus Hun Yao painfully discovered that this human being had become his everything.

His life and death, his deep hatred and his deep love, his past, his future, his day and night.

If Langmuir died to save him…

What should he do?

Suddenly, a gentle hand passed through the chaotic nightmare, gently patted him, and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” The voice in the dream came from outside the dream, “Right, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“Why are you so uncomfortable.” The person murmured to himself with heartache, “Shouldn’t have let you go at the beginning…”

This voice was more useful than any medicine. Langmuir is safe… This cognition quickly relaxed Hun Yao’s nearly broken nerves, and finally fell into a deeper sleep.

When Hun Yao woke up again, he was in his camp.

In the early hours of the morning, the quiet darkness spread around with the wind.

The Demon King stared blankly at the felt cloth above his head, and when he turned his head, he saw his slave.

Langmuir was curled up holding the quilt as if he was afraid of the cold, his forehead resting on his shoulder, sleeping deeply with his eyes closed.

Hun Yao, as if possessed, reached out his hand, quietly brushed aside the scattered silver-gray hair, and stared at the pale face of the Holy Monarch. After a while, he went to touch the pulse of his neck.

“…!”

With such a touch, Langmuir naturally woke up.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Hun Yao, first stunned, and then his eyebrows and eyes immediately lit up, like the stars in the night.

“My King, you are awake!”

Hun Yao kept his face straight, and with the posture of lying on his side, he pinched Langmuir’s neck casually. “Slave, who allowed you to use the demonic breath?”

Langmuir didn’t care at all that his life gate was being pinched, but instead rubbed against Hun Yao, and said seriously, “In case of emergency, there is no way. My King is so injured, I only regret that I went too late.”

Hun Yao: “Shut up, Langmuir. When I poured the demonic breath into your body, was it for you to make a big show, hmm? ——That’s for torturing you, it’s revenge, understand?”

“But I was also tortured.” Langmuir couldn’t help but smile, pointing at himself, “Duogu said that the backlash of my use of demonic breath is very serious, and the damage to the body is irreversible.”

Hun Yao: “…”

Stabbing himself with a knife probably felt like this. Hun Yao’s heart ached instantly, and for the first time in his life, he regretted his adventurous actions.

“You…” he could only pretend to threaten, “In the future, without my order, you are not allowed to use the demonic breath, otherwise…”

The Demon King’s gloomy gaze swept over Langmuir, grabbed the bone ornament on his neck, and shook it with a “clang”.“Otherwise, I will lock you up again!”

Langmuir: “Hiss, slow down, don’t pull the wound…”

Hun Yao: “.”

The Demon King was heartbroken —— no way, he couldn’t threaten this guy at all!

….

Soon, Hun Yao probably understood the situation after they both returned to the camp with serious injuries.

The backlash of the demonic breath on Langmuir was not light, but he woke up earlier than him, and had been assisting the demon generals of the royal court to preside over the overall situation these days.

The abyss respected strength, the Holy Monarch broke through the formation alone, and shot the leader Heitor with one arrow, directly shocking the barbaric demons, and they dared not be presumptuous anymore.

Even the always arrogant Moduo, now when she passed by Langmuir, she had to tuck her tail, and called him “lord” tremblingly.

Langmuir just smiled with a low eyebrow, and said to these demon generals, “You generals don’t need to call me respectfully, your King is used to doing whatever he wants, and I will have to ask you generals to persuade more in the future.”

“This kind of thing happened this time, I am really heartbroken, I don’t want to see it a second time, okay?”

…scared them to death.

When the Demon King finally woke up, as soon as Hun Yao returned, several demon generals surrounded him and started crying and shouting, accusing Langmuir of being outrageous and terrifying.

In this regard, Hun Yao just said one word. “Scram!”

Forget it, with Langmuir’s personality, is it still scary?

The Demon King trained his own waste subordinates all over, and then gave each head a punch.

The poor demons covered their heads with tears, and they were bitter but could not tell —— but when you were in a coma, that human really became very scary!

Hun Yao: “So, tell me, what did he do? How did he affect you?”

The demons stuttered and couldn’t articulate their thoughts, they exchanged desperate glances.

…That is, although he didn’t do anything, nor did he harm us, he is just very scary!

The demons’ complaints had no effect, Hun Yao’s expression didn’t change at all.

Only when Moduo mentioned the phrase Langmuir said before the battle, “He should also die in my hands,” and vehemently denounced his rebellion, did he raise his eyebrows and chuckled darkly.

“Humph, as expected, I knew he was up to something!”

Moduo: “My King, why do you seem so happy?”

Hun Yao: “What do you know, since he wants to take my life, can he first sacrifice himself?…He will get better.”

Moduo’s eyes twitched, she closed her eyes in despair: No, my King, what are you talking about, who cares if that human will get better or not!

In the end, why are you so happy when you think that human will get better!?

……

Unfortunately, Hun Yao’s hopes were destined to be dashed.

After this battle, Langmuir’s body was noticeably weaker and showed no signs of recovery.

He was like a fragile porcelain, a fall would cause a crack. Although it wouldn’t shatter immediately, the crack could never be repaired.

Hun Yao became increasingly anxious, keeping Langmuir in the camp every day, and his own battles also decreased. This made the slave very satisfied.

“That’s right, it should be like this,” Langmuir said with a heavy heart while changing the medicine for the Demon King, “If you don’t nurse the wound, how can it heal itself?”

With the death of Heitor, the tribe alliance was like a wolf pack that had lost its leader, and the war was coming to an end.

At Langmuir’s urging, the Demon King unusually did not carry out a large-scale killing of prisoners this time, but instead surrendered many of Heitor’s tribesmen.

Including the later Gale Demon General Asayin, who also followed Hun Yao this year.

“It turns out to be that guard captain, I have some impressions, indeed not bad.”

In private, Langmuir simply judged this fallen general and sighed, “Fortunately, he was not killed at that time.”

Hun Yao: “…”

I seemed to understand why those wastes were so scared.

In this way, by the end of the year, the Demon King’s army returned triumphantly.

On the way, a wildebeest carrying a messenger from the south arrived: The Zhenzan tribe, which had been observing, expressed sincere submission to the royal court again.

Upon returning to the royal court at night, hundreds of bonfires illuminated the wilderness.

The carnival of the demon race began. They enjoyed raw meat and fine wine, enjoyed duels and merging, and the barbaric singing was similar to the roar of beasts.

The handsome dancers danced naked around the campfire, with only bone ornaments hanging on their private parts to shield them, and the light of the fire illuminated them and their tight muscles, and the sweaty scales on them.

If a warrior on an expedition was moved by it, they could immediately issue an invitation to merge, and it would never be rejected.

In those years, Langmuir was not used to this kind of carnival. He chose not to watch, his eyelashes trembling at the roots, and his lips were even more tightly pursed, as if he would vomit if he didn’t do this.

Occasionally, Hun Yao showed great compassion and allowed him to hide in the tent. Langmuir opened his eyes as if he was relieved, looked at him gratefully, and quickly left with his robe.

And if the Demon King happened to be stimulated by this gentleness, he would deliberately lengthen the tone, call Langmuir back halfway, and force him to watch the entire crazy celebration until the bonfire went out.

But this time it’s different.

In the firelight, the demons suddenly cheered crazily.

Under the escort of countless tribes, the Demon King laughed and lifted the human being around his waist, kissed off that white robe, and finally pressed him to the ground.

“My King!” Langmuir shuddered, grabbing his clothes and hiding back.

Hun Yao had just drank some wine, was a little drunk, and his eyes were wild, calling the slave’s name in a low voice. “Langmuir, come, accompany me once.”

The cheers around were deafening, and it was unknown which good guy threw a leather bag – it was a stimulant.

“My King…!” Langmuir’s voice was hoarse, his eyes were red at the corners, he was panting violently, and he was struggling with difficulty, “No…not here.”

“Don’t run.” The Demon King grinned and laughed. He picked up the leather bag, bit off the soft plug, took a sip himself, and then clamped Langmuir’s jaw, “Drink.”

Langmuir shook his head, Hun Yao half forced and half coaxed, using his fingers to pry open the human’s teeth and put the wine bag on it. “Be obedient, this is the celebration of the royal court, just once.”

“….”

Langmuir trembled, slowly closed his eyes.

He didn’t refuse anymore, just blocked his face with his arm.

It was unknown why, but Hun Yao’s excited mood was like being splashed with a bucket of cold water, and it faded away in a flash.

The Demon King’s movements stiffened, and his face became gloomy in an instant… Langmuir was unwilling.

Why? Why not willing?

Hun Yao was very upset in his heart. He had been watching the group of adults having fun at the ceremony since he was illiterate. All the demons, including his parents – the pair who once wanted to kill him and offer him to the leader at night – all came over like this.

Merging with a beloved partner at the celebration should be the happiest thing for the demons.

Why can’t he do it when he wants to do it with Langmuir?

Four years, not once?

The demons around have already gotten up, just yelling and laughing, and they couldn’t notice that the atmosphere of the master was wrong at all.

Hun Yao gritted his teeth and was extremely suffocated. He cursed in a low voice, threw the leather bag in his hand on the ground, picked up the outer robe scattered next to him and wrapped Langmuir’s body, holding the human and left here directly.

……

What is this?

On the quiet and deserted riverbank, the sound of flowing water was gurgling. Hun Yao buried his face in the palms of his hands and completely closed himself off.

In the first year, he wanted to execute his slave, but when the slave said “I don’t want to die,” he couldn’t do it;

In the second year, the slave said he didn’t want to be tied up in the palace, so he really brought him to the royal court;

By the third year, he took the slave to the barrier cliff and began to give authority to the enemy.

Well, what about now? He can’t even exercise his right as a master, and he can’t merge with the slave!

“Cough, actually.” Next to him, Langmuir, with a white robe draped over his shoulders, reached out and touched the Demon King’s wilting tail.

After regaining his senses, he thought about the posture at that time, and he was a little embarrassed, and said softly, “I didn’t expect my Ling to stop, originally…if it’s done, it’s done.”

Hun Yao turned his head and glared at the culprit fiercely.

That was the grand ceremony to celebrate the triumph! The atmosphere was so lively and he actually ran away with Langmuir…

Hun Yao simply couldn’t imagine how awkward the subsequent scene would be.

And, he could clearly foresee his future reputation: in addition to the Broken Horn Demon King, he probably had to add an Impotent Demon King.

…Forget it. Hun Yao turned his eyes and deflated again, thinking: Forget it, it’s also strange that he suddenly got carried away and wanted to force it without saying anything. Anyway, it’s already like this, it’s useless to be angry, it’s useless to be angry…

Still so angry!

“You humans are hypocritical!”

Hun Yao used a tone of hating iron for not becoming steel, pointing and pointing, “Rules and regulations, all kinds of etiquette, dare not face desire frankly.”

Langmuir: “What does this have to do with hypocrisy? Besides, desire should be restrained, otherwise, what is the difference from beasts?”

Hun Yao: “Hmph, you are of course the holy and unparalleled son of god, but how many humans are like you? In my opinion, the vast majority of guys restrain their desires for fame, very vain, what is the difference in essence from my demon race?”

The river water flowed quietly, and this year was still a good year without a cold winter.

In the fourth year, the Demon King and the Holy Monarch talked more and more frequently about the civilization between the two races, and such small disputes were commonplace.

Langmuir smiled and said softly, “Judge by deeds, not by heart. What’s wrong with restraining desires with integrity?”

“It is precisely to help each mortal better restrain their desires that we have so-called morals and so-called laws, and also…”

Hun Yao interrupted bitterly. “The abyss does not have this kind of morality, nor does it have this kind of law.”

“Love.”

Hun Yao was stunned.

Langmuir repeated. “Hmm, and love.”

What love, what counts as love. The Demon King felt his heartbeat out of control, he was strangely angry and ashamed, and blurted out, “I don’t love you either.”

Langmuir was taken aback, seemingly not reacting to how they were talking about the concepts between the two races, but suddenly turned to the two of them.

But he immediately laughed. “Ah, of course. You certainly won’t love me… we are enemies.”

Hun Yao suddenly stopped talking.

“…Hmm.”

After a while, the Demon King raised his head and quietly looked at the light of the Cliff Moon, and said melancholy, “Yes, it’s an enemy.”

Langmuir leaned on Hun Yao’s shoulder. “But it should already be a very good enemy relationship, right?”

“…Hmm.”

“Thank you, my King, for stopping just now.”

“…Hmm.”

“I will try harder to adapt, and I will definitely be able to next time…”

Hun Yao finally couldn’t stand it, he pulled Langmuir into his arms, endured the heartache like a knife cutting the heart, and kissed the human’s lips in the way of the humans.