The Seventh Year the Demon King Captured the Holy Monarch

A quarter of an hour later, Langmuir met his father in the study of the palace.

The old Holy Monarch was a gentle man. Because he had a child in his old age, he loved his children very much. Even Langmuir, his eldest son who was not raised by his side since childhood, was pampered in every possible way.

At this moment, seeing the Son of God come in with red eyes, the old Holy Monarch was taken aback–he knew that his child was usually calm, mature, and had a tenacious personality. What had happened to make him so upset?

Soon, all the attendants were dismissed. Langmuir’s emotions had also stabilized somewhat. He was cautious and did not directly mention the old woman. He only said that he had learned the truth about the demons in the abyss and revealed the buried history to the Holy Monarch.

The old Holy Monarch changed his color several times upon hearing this, and finally stood up directly from his seat.

However, after Langmuir finished speaking, a look of hesitation appeared on his face, and he rubbed his hands hesitantly. “But, child, it’s not that Father doesn’t want to believe, but what you said is too incredible…Do you have any evidence?”

“Of course, as long as someone is sent to enter the abyss again!” Langmuir said eagerly, “The language and writing of the demons…are still the same as they were two hundred years ago! I have personally verified that humans can use demonic breath, which also proves that demonic breath and Mana must have the same origin, but no mage has ever studied it before…”

“The elders of the temple all know the truth, they are deliberately concealing it. But Father, you are the Holy Monarch of the kingdom, as long as you are willing to investigate, you will definitely be able to find the traces of that year, and there will be more and more evidence.”

The old Holy Monarch turned his back and slowly paced in the study, murmuring, “If what you said is true, those compatriots are really pitiful.”

“Our ancestors, oh, that should be my grandfather…actually committed such inhumane crimes…”

A glimmer of hope lit up in Langmuir’s eyes, and he quickly said, “Father! Please arrange for the ministers to investigate immediately. Once the truth is confirmed, summon the mages of the kingdom, purify the miasma, and open the barrier.”

“Hmm…”

The old Holy Monarch turned around with his hands behind his back, and a clear look of hesitation appeared between his always gentle eyebrows.

“Father!”

The old Holy Monarch sighed, finally stopped pacing, and returned to Langmuir’s side, placing his hand on the young man’s golden hair. “Langmuir…don’t rush. Go back for today, and don’t spread this matter around. Father…Father needs to think carefully.”

Langmuir was stunned.

Think? What else was there to think about?

“Ah…” The old Holy Monarch sighed again. He rubbed his temples, looking troubled.

In the palace study, a faint incense was lit, and sunlight spilled in from the window onto the luxurious furniture, making people somewhat dizzy.

Langmuir felt as if his throat was blocked by a ball of cotton, and a sense of suffocation came over him.

He asked hoarsely, “Father, do you still have any doubts?”

The old Holy Monarch was silent for a long time before he finally spoke. “Langmuir, after hearing what you said, Father is also heartbroken, but—”

“But even if this is true, those are things of the past, it’s been two hundred years.”

“Past?” Langmuir couldn’t believe his ears. He took a step forward, his voice trembling, “How could it be past…as long as our brethren still live in the abyss, it’s not past!”

The old Holy Monarch said, “Child, even if the demons were once humans, they are now a group of brutal and vulgar demons!”

“They are no longer our brethren, the citizens of the kingdom will not acknowledge them.”

Langmuir’s face turned as white as ice.

He closed his eyes in sorrow and murmured, “No.”

“Child, you know, every time the Gasuo barrier is opened, the demons wreak havoc in the human world, and countless innocents die–you only feel sorry for the demons, but can you bear to see the citizens of the kingdom being plundered and slaughtered by the demons?”

Langmuir said, “That’s exactly why we need to dissolve this hatred as soon as possible, make up for the mistakes made, and end this pointless war!”

The old Holy Monarch waved his hands and furrowed his brows. “Langmuir, you are too young and don’t understand. Right and wrong in the world are not that simple.”

His voice gradually rose, “Besides, this is not our mistake, it’s a mistake made by people two hundred years ago!”

“As a monarch, what should be done is to protect his own citizens, not to show great kindness to a group of aliens. Yes, aliens, they are already aliens, Langmuir!”

It was unknown when Langmuir stopped talking. He stood there quietly, as if he was getting to know his biological father all over again.

“…Father.”

Langmuir suddenly chuckled.

He lifted his sorrowful eyes and asked, “Did you know all along?”

“No, Langmuir, what are you talking about? How could Father possibly know about such inhumane things!? If Father knew, how could he have acted as if nothing happened until today—”

“So, you didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

“Have you never doubted it?”

“…”

Langmuir laughed at himself, “Even if there were doubts, you never dared to delve into them, did you?”

A look of anger and embarrassment appeared on the old Holy Monarch’s face.

“Langmuir, are you questioning me? How can you talk to your father like this!?”

Langmuir shook his head, feeling exhausted as if all the strength in his body had been drained.

The feeling of weakness made him stagger a step, leaning against the mahogany bookshelf, he asked in a low voice, “Alright, I won’t say anymore, Father. But now that you know, what are you going to do?”

The old Holy Monarch said, “I will pray to the Goddess for those poor brethren, and live every day of the rest of my life with guilt.”

Langmuir couldn’t say a word anymore. He slowly turned around and walked towards the door of the study, his steps weak as if he could fall at any moment.

The old Holy Monarch didn’t hold him back.

When he reached the door, Langmuir stopped.

He just stood there, his back to his father, and said softly, “Father, I know what the temple is waiting for.”

“The elder prophet once said that over the years, the environment in the abyss has been getting worse and worse. The miasma is sealed under the barrier, and the earth fire will make its toxicity stronger and stronger. Judging from the scale of the demon army’s invasions of the kingdom each time, the number of demons has been decreasing year by year.”

“Perhaps in another two hundred years, the demons will no longer exist.”

He turned back with a sorrowful smile, “And our sins will also be erased from history forever, along with the sufferers.”

“Father, is this also your expectation?”

Silence filled the room.

Langmuir waited for a long time, but he didn’t get an answer from the old Holy Monarch.

So he chuckled lowly, speaking to himself, “You won’t get your wish. I’ve seen the tenacity and unyielding spirit of the demons. When they crawl out of hell, the kingdom will only suffer even more severe damage.”

“Not saving the brethren of the past means not protecting the citizens of the present. Father, I beg you…think again.”

“But, Langmuir.” The old Holy Monarch suddenly said in a low voice.

“The Demon King has already been killed by you, hasn’t he?”

Langmuir’s eyes trembled imperceptibly, and he held his breath.

In a daze, the vibrant colors faded from the scene before his eyes, and this simple sentence was more cruel than any spiritual curse.

Isn’t it?

Maybe it is.

…….

Langmuir returned to the temple.

He walked into the prayer room alone and closed the door.

This place was dedicated for the Son of God to pray, and it was once one of the rooms Langmuir was most familiar with in the temple.

The dome ceiling was engraved with holy teachings in ancient text, and the colorful stained glass windows reflected dreamy colors.

The colorful light would shine on the largest statue of the Goddess of Light in the kingdom, and the Goddess always smiled down at the praying believers below.

Langmuir knelt in front of the statue, closed his eyes tiredly, and clasped his hands together.

He murmured lowly, “Oh, supreme Goddess of Light, all-knowing, all-powerful, and merciful God, please listen to the prayers of your believers, please guide my wandering soul…”

Outside the prayer room, the little holy women were singing songs while playing the harp in the back garden.

The beautiful singing faintly came in, “In the far north of the snow mountain, under the dark abyss, there are ugly demons multiplying, and the evil Demon King…”

Langmuir’s thin body began to tremble. His expression became more and more helpless, and the voice of his prayer became more and more hoarse, “Please cleanse my sinful soul, please give me true redemption, please…”

The song outside was still singing, “Inheriting the will of the Goddess, the Son of God drew his longbow, killed the evil Demon King, on the frozen cliff…”

Over and over again, Langmuir recited the holy teachings, but there were no answers in the teachings.

He knelt in front of the statue and prayed repeatedly, but the Goddess just smiled down.

“Oh Goddess, Goddess…the evil brethren, the evil brethren, will eventually perish on this earth…”

Finally, the little holy women finished their song. They left with laughter, stepping on the mottled winter sun.

The prayer room was quiet, and the Son of God was curled up kneeling on the ground, motionless, as if he was extremely tired.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from the young man’s throat. He grabbed the embroidered cushion he was kneeling on and threw it at the statue of the Goddess of Light in front of him!

“My God, why don’t you speak!”

Langmuir finally exploded, or perhaps, finally broke down.

His eyes were red, and he suddenly stood up, panting, “What should I do, why don’t you guide me on what to do!!

“Goddess, where are you, what is the golden sun illuminating, and what can it redeem!!”

…The one who was once the most devout and holy Son of God in the kingdom, at this moment, became more mad than any “possessed by a demon.”

Langmuir staggered, grabbing anything and throwing it at the statue, smashing the prayer room all over. In the end, he knelt on the ground and burst into loud crying.

He was about to be crushed.

He didn’t know how to walk this path.

He had been deceived by the elders for a long time.

He killed the Demon King who was good to him.

He couldn’t save the old woman who committed suicide.

He couldn’t persuade his father to save his brethren.

He didn’t even get a single response from the Goddess.

…Was it because his sins were indeed so heavy that the Goddess refused to deal with him?

The door of the prayer room opened from behind.

The familiar sound of the staff knocking, accompanied by footsteps, slowly approached.

Langmuir turned his head back with light panting, through the tear mist, he saw the elder prophet looking at him with a gaze mixed with pity and mockery.

“God?” The prophet chuckled softly, “Son of God, are you looking for the Goddess?”

Langmuir had never seen such an expression on the prophet’s face.

Even though he had long known of this man’s hypocrisy, a chilling sensation still rose in his heart.

Langmuir stood up coldly, his body tensely alert, and his right hand quietly gathered an attack spell.

But the next moment, the Prophet threw his staff away and laughed uproariously!

“Hehahaha, hahahahaha!!”

Langmuir was horrified. He saw the white-haired old man laughing non-stop, step by step towards him, stretching out his arms—

“Where is there a God, oh, my silly child.”