Soon, Hun Yao regretted again.
This little inferior demon was simply stupid and dull. He couldn’t swim, couldn’t fight, and didn’t speak. He was like a half-mute, only capable of shedding pitiful tears–a spineless creature that made all the powerful demons want to spit.
And the most troublesome thing was, this guy was always following him!
Even though Hun Yao repeatedly told him that the group of people were after him, and following him would only bring disaster, this guy seemed to not understand, and couldn’t be driven away.
…Why did I save such a troublesome thing!
Hun Yao gritted his teeth, took a few quick steps forward.
Turned a corner, stopped, looked back.
The little inferior demon was still quietly trailing behind.
Hun Yao angrily said, “Why are you following me!?”
The little inferior demon remained silent, his beautiful eyes red, his expression a bit wooden. His scaly tail tip hung on the ground, listlessly dragging along.
Hun Yao had a headache, thinking this guy must not know the way…
After all, it was strange, where did such a stupid inferior demon come from?
Hun Yao was so annoyed, but he was injured in many places, and even maintaining forward movement required sheer willpower, he couldn’t walk fast, how could he shake off the inferior demon behind him?
Might as well ignore it, just pretend that the thing behind him didn’t exist.
Little did the Demon King know, the one following him at this moment was not some weak and silly inferior demon.
When a person suffers a great shock, the brain cannot think.
At this moment, Langmuir felt like he had become an empty shell.
Fifteen years of cognition and belief collapsed in just two days. What was black became white, and what was evil became good. The ferocious “Demon King” that he had shot down year after year had materialized into a vivid young demon, who had held him, saved him, and was now walking two steps ahead of him.
Langmuir felt as if he had fallen into a nightmare, dizzy and confused. He didn’t know why he was following the Demon King, but he knew even less about what he could do if he didn’t follow the Demon King.
The abyss was too dark. They were shuttling through the forest one after the other, as if wandering between the fangs of a fierce beast.
Langmuir began to feel thirsty, and soon he felt hungry. His bag had been lost when he fell into the water, and now he had nothing.
However, looking around, apart from the sparse grass stems and bare trees, there was nothing that looked edible, nor was there any water source.
The young demon in front slowly stopped and leaned against a tree.
Langmuir’s eyes moved. The Demon King had experienced such a fierce escape, his physical exhaustion was unimaginable, and with continuous blood loss, he must have been very thirsty and hungry earlier than him.
Would he eat me? Langmuir thought. The elders said that demons would eat people, and also eat demons. Perhaps the next moment the Demon King would reveal his cruel nature, then…
He quietly touched the short sword in his sleeve.
Then perhaps, he could kill the Demon King with a clear conscience.
“You.” Hun Yao turned around, his eyes filled with an unusual icy light.
“I saved you and took you to escape. I don’t expect you to repay me, but you should at least be a bit useful.”
The young Demon King pointed to the tree in front of him and said hoarsely, “Now, climb up and pick the fruit.”
Langmuir: “?”
So the Demon King stopped because he found food.
That’s good, but…
Climb… up…?
Langmuir blankly hugged the tree trunk.
Hun Yao stared at him, “Yes, that’s right, climb.”
Langmuir hugged the tree trunk a little tighter and shook his head.
Hun Yao was angry, “Climb!”
Langmuir braced himself and jumped up a bit, barely grabbing the tree trunk with his claws, and then he was helpless. He could only let his body stick to the rough bark, and slide down with a hiss.
Hun Yao was simply devastated, “You can’t even climb a tree!? How did you survive until now!?”
Which temple’s son of god would ever learn to climb trees in the past and present.
Langmuir had to honestly say, “I really can’t.”
In the end, the young Demon King had to climb the tree himself to pick the fruit.
Langmuir stood below and looked up until the agile figure disappeared into the tree crown.
So, the Demon King doesn’t just eat people casually, the Son of God thought, why did the elders lie to him?
Langmuir stood under the tree, looking at the scaly tail with blood scabs faintly showing between the branches, and couldn’t help but think: Are you really the Demon King?
So he gently called out, “Demon King?”
After a while, a fruit fell from the tree and hit him on the forehead with malice.
Langmuir silently covered his forehead, bent over and picked up the fruit. It was small and shriveled, green and dotted with black spots.
The son of god had never eaten such terrible food.
He put it in his mouth, bit it open, and a piece of stimulating sourness hit him.
So the Demon King not only didn’t eat him, but also threw fruit at him.
…Why?
Why.
Langmuir suddenly found that when he tried to think about why, everything around him became strange.
Why do demons dwell in the abyss?
Of course, everyone in the kingdom knew that it was because they were deeply sinful and had been sealed by the Goddess.
So, what were the specific sins, and how deep were they?
Before being sealed by the Goddess, where did the demons live, and how did they live? Why have there never been any historical records about this?
In the final analysis, where did the race of demons come from?
After simply eating that sour and bitter fruit, Hun Yao started to move forward again, and Langmuir still followed.
The pursuers of Watie were just behind them, and they were still far from a safe distance. Hun Yao completely gave up the idea of using the guy behind him, calmly planned the route himself, made traces along the way to interfere with the pursuers, and looked for water and food.
Langmuir watched and learned, relying on a few bites of the leftovers from Hun Yao to barely survive. The two young men walked in the mountains for a whole day, and they didn’t even stop their steps at night.
The second day of the son of god in the abyss passed like this.
Hun Yao’s condition was actually very bad, his wounds had not been treated, and his tired body had hardly rested. He had reached his limit by now.
The next day, he started to walk less smoothly, occasionally tripped over rocks or tree roots, or suddenly fell down due to lack of strength.
Sometimes, he would sweat profusely from the pain, forcefully pressing his broken right horn on the ground, and let out a restrained groan.
Langmuir stood quietly behind him, his fingers twitching slightly.
He suddenly thought: Why did I shoot that arrow?
How strange, he didn’t even know what the other party looked like, and he shot an arrow at a living being he had never met… How could he do such a terrifying thing?
Why did everyone from the prophet elders to the people of the kingdom let him, and even praise him for doing such a terrifying thing?
Suddenly, the young Demon King opened his cold eyes.
“…What do you want to do?”
Only then did Langmuir realize that he didn’t know when he had squatted down and reached out to the Demon King’s broken horn.
“Your horn…”
Hun Yao shook his head self-mockingly, “What, is this the first time you’ve seen a demon with a broken horn?”
He struggled to support his elbow on the ground and sat up hard, “Has anyone ever taught you what a broken horn represents?”
Langmuir was silent for a moment, and said, “…I haven’t been taught, but I know.” He said softly, “It means someone has hurt you.”
The young Demon King’s movements paused imperceptibly.
After a while, Hun Yao lowered his head with a complicated expression and muttered to himself, “…How did a fool like you manage to survive until now.”
Langmuir had no words to respond.
Of course, Hun Yao didn’t expect an answer.
He straightened up with the support of the tree trunk, dragging his almost numb legs, and continued to move forward step by step.
The voice of the little inferior demon came from behind, “Take a break. You can’t keep going like this.”
“Rest? If we dare to stop now, the pursuers will be here by tomorrow morning.”
“Why are they chasing you?”
“…” Hun Yao started to have a headache again.
Why was he being chased? This question was complicated, it could be traced from the intricate disputes of various tribes to the relationship between the Demon King and the leaders, from the Gasuo barrier to the survival rules of the abyss.
But he couldn’t possibly explain all these to a fool.
“Because,” Hun Yao casually fobbed off, “as you said, someone hurt me.”
The little inferior demon suddenly fell silent.
Hun Yao was satisfied.
Hmm, fools are easy to fool.
The night once again swallowed the abyss.
After walking a short distance, probably because he really couldn’t walk anymore, the young Demon King finally stopped, “I need to rest, do as you please.”
After saying that, he slowly looked around, picked a pleasing big tree, and climbed up again. This time, even his scaly tail didn’t show.
It seemed that for demons who could climb trees, this was indeed a good method of concealment. But since Langmuir couldn’t climb trees, he had to curl up and sleep under the tree.
Langmuir slept lightly that night, always thinking about the demon in the tree.
For a while, he thought in a daze: Would the Demon King suddenly pounce down and eat me in the middle of the night? So he woke up, looked up at the tree, and there was no movement.
For a while, he thought half-dreaming and half-awake: Would the Demon King die on his own? So he woke up again, looked up at the tree, and there was still no movement.
He tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and thought of the Demon King’s broken horn, so he clasped his hands together and pressed them against his heart, muttering the name of the Goddess in confusion.
The merciful face of the Goddess floated and sank in his mind, always silent.
From a distance, there came the faint sound of an ominous bird call, and when the wind blew, the branches swayed like ghosts.
Langmuir didn’t know how long it had been before he fell asleep again.
This was the third night.
On the morning of the fourth day, Hun Yao got a wild rabbit. He skillfully made a fire, skinned it, and roasted the meat. The teeth of the demons were much sharper than those of humans, and they chewed and swallowed even the bones.
The remaining rabbit leg was casually thrown on the ground by Hun Yao, waiting for the little inferior demon to come and pick it up to eat.
But the little guy didn’t move. He had just woken up, sitting quietly in a daze not far away, not knowing what he was thinking.
Hun Yao was inexplicably irritable, picked up the rabbit leg, and wolfed it down.
This was a rare piece of meat on the escape route, it was roasted and handed to the mouth, but didn’t know to eat it, this guy really had no sense of crisis…
He wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but then he remembered that he didn’t even know the name of the little inferior demon.
“Fool!” Hun Yao shouted, “What’s your name?”
Langmuir came back to his senses and quickly shook his head.
Although the demons probably wouldn’t know the name of the son of god above the barrier, he still didn’t want to say it subconsciously.
Hun Yao was helpless, “No name?”
Langmuir turned the tables and asked, “What’s your name?”
Hun Yao squinted his eyes and beckoned him.
Langmuir walked over, sat next to him, and learned to curl his tail on his body like a demon, looking obedient.
As he got closer, he saw the Demon King’s condition more clearly. The original wounds had been repeatedly torn during the continuous walking, and many places were already showing signs of ulceration, which made him frown.
The bonfire was still crackling, illuminating the gray morning forest, the air was a bit humid, as if it was about to rain.
The young Demon King laughed ambiguously, scratched two characters on the ground with his scaly claws, and said hoarsely, “My name.”
Langmuir leaned in to look.
The first character had the meaning of “dusk” and “no light”, and the meaning of the second character was “shining”.
Hun Yao. (TL: 昏耀= “dusk” “shine”)
The Demon King’s name was Hun Yao.
The king of the abyss that shines in this land of no light.
“Pretentious.” The young Demon King sneered, “You can’t read, can you?”
…That’s not right.
Langmuir suddenly shivered, he stared at the two characters on the ground, and suddenly felt a chill.
That’s not right, not right! Yes, he is a human, how could he understand the language of the demons, and read the text of the demons?
But… but this…
Isn’t this ancient text?
The ancient text used by the kingdom two hundred years ago!!
He could read it so naturally because, as the son of god the temple, he was used to reading ancient books and old teachings, but why did the demons use the ancient text of humans!?
Langmuir suddenly looked up, staring at the Demon King, his voice tense, “How do you pronounce these two characters?”
Hun Yao laughed triumphantly.
He knew this little fool couldn’t read.
“So stupid, you can’t even recognize characters,” the young Demon King put out the fire with his tail, stood up, turned around and smirked, “These two characters are pronounced Hun Yao.”
“The dusk of the day, the shining of the light.”
“But you, it’s best to obediently call me Demon King.”
