The Seventh Year the Demon King Captured the Holy Monarch

This time, Langmuir was truly angry.

He had been patient for seven years, not making a move, knowing that the temple had deep reserves and was difficult to eradicate completely. But while he could tolerate their deception and false claims, their deceit and delay of military operations had completely crossed the line of the Holy Monarch.

Before heading to the front line, Langmuir ordered the guards to arrest the elder prophet of the Temple of Light and detain him in prison, waiting for accountability.

Unexpectedly, Prince Aiden, who was leading the horse for the Holy Monarch, looked grim and said bitterly, “…Brother! I only found out today that the elder prophet, who usually considers himself high and mighty, could be so unrighteous and shameless! He——”

Langmuir only heard this sentence, and his heart sank.

Sure enough, according to Aiden, when the royal guards surrounded the temple, the elder prophet showed no panic at all, but started his drama.

First, he quickly shifted the blame to the guards on the barrier cliff, to those who had already sacrificed and had no proof of death; then he put on a face of self-blame and despair, kneeling in front of the temple reciting confession texts.

Countless believers were incited, blocking the guards, not allowing them to take away the prophet, and even almost causing a bloody conflict.

According to the kingdom’s ancient rules, to become a royal knight, one must believe in the Mother Goddess. Although the Holy Monarch abolished this rule two years ago on the grounds of the “Doctrine of Equality” in the Holy Teachings, it cannot be denied that the majority of the royal guards were still devout believers of the Light.

Seeing the old man’s self-blame and sadness, the people were crying and sniffling, and even the guards who were ordered to arrest him wavered.

In the end, they couldn’t detain him. The prophet voluntarily proposed to be “confined” in the temple for the time being, waiting for the Holy Monarch to return and make a decision.

At this point, Aiden couldn’t help but spit, cursing angrily, “Old b*stard! What temporary confinement, the prophet has been living in the temple, hasn’t stepped out in eight hundred years, and still talks about confinement!?”

“……”

Langmuir closed his eyes and shook his head.

He knew this move was difficult. If not, his order would not have been “detention” – given the sins of the elder prophet, execution on the spot would not be too much.

Unfortunately, the results of the probe were even more pessimistic than he had anticipated.

Soon, Langmuir saw the citizens he had sworn to protect in the twilight.

Countless city dwellers of the capital were kneeling in front of the temple, their faces filled with anxiety, crying out in grief:

“…Your Majesty, the Holy Monarch! By the Goddess, you must not be deceived by the villain and wrong the great elder prophet!”

Aiden could no longer bear it and rushed forward, shouting angrily, “Do you know that the temple has always been responsible for guarding the barrier cliff! The demons are attacking the human world, and the capital is in danger. If it weren’t for the temple’s negligence——”

Unexpectedly, those believers showed no shame or hesitation on their faces, but instead loudly defended.

“Didn’t they say that the elder prophet was deceived, he thought someone had reported to Your Majesty!”

“So many Golden Sun Knights, and four elders, all bravely sacrificed on the barrier cliff, does Your Majesty still have the heart to punish the prophet?”

“Yes, yes, this is disrespectful to the Goddess, it will bring disaster!”

Aiden was so angry that he was fuming. “You all…”

Langmuir sighed lightly, holding back his cursing brother.

People’s hearts were easy to change but hard to move. Once someone was deemed a good person, no matter how many crimes were listed in front of them, they could come up with reasons to defend them;

And once someone was deemed a villain, no matter how they explain, they could only be wronged under prejudice.

The Holy Monarch didn’t blame these brainwashed people, he just felt a sense of fatigue like a mayfly shaking a tree.

…….

In the depths of the Brett Temple, Langmuir saw the elder prophet.

The current situation of being “confined” did not diminish the arrogance of the old man in the white robe, but made him even more arrogant.

“I am the holy prophet!” The old man spread his arms and laughed arrogantly, “If you punish the prophet, you are denying the temple, you are shaking the foundation of this country! The demon army is pressing the border, does Your Majesty want to provoke a civil unrest at this time?”

“Langmuir, my good child who I raised with my own hands, don’t be foolish again…Now immediately release me, clarify the innocence of the temple, and then beg for the ‘protection of the Goddess’–this is the only way you can protect your people under the demon army!”

Langmuir slowly narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“Langmuir, you are only twenty-two years old, your resistance is only seven years…But do you know how long the faith in the Light has taken root in this land!?”

“Two hundred years? More! Three hundred years…More!”

“The faith in the Goddess of Light can be traced back to four hundred years ago, you want to use your seven years to fight against the four hundred years of countless believers, it’s wishful thinking!!”

The fanatical voice of the elder prophet echoed in the empty prayer hall, and every stained glass window witnessed the hypocritical face of this human.

Langmuir couldn’t help but sneer, turned around and walked away. The old and crazy voice chased after him.

“You will come back to beg me, how you succumbed seven years ago, you are destined to succumb in the same way after seven years! Langmuir, you will come back to beg me!!..”

The night gradually swallowed the voice of the prophet.

The moon rose, a round and bright one. Langmuir walked through the corridor of the temple, his footsteps became the only clear sound.

At this moment, how many demons were looking up at this moon?

The Holy Monarch’s steps slowed down and finally stopped. He looked up at the moonlight in a daze, thinking: Is there really no way out?

What he was worried about was not the victory or defeat of the war.

The siege of the capital had become a foregone conclusion, but the Holy Monarch had already sent orders to various cities, deploying a large number of reinforcements. After all, there was a huge difference in numbers between the demons and the humans. As long as the several major legions stationed outside arrive, the Demon King would definitely not collide head-on.

If they could hold on for a few more days, a turning point would inevitably come. What needed to be considered was how to delay time and minimize casualties.

But what about the others?

Beyond the victory or defeat of the war, what about the others?

Langmuir walked alone under the corridor of the Brett Temple, just like seven years ago on the barrier cliff in winter, he gradually immersed himself in self-forgetful contemplation.

Was it really impossible to expose the true face of the hypocrite? Was it really only possible to completely split into two races and fight until one side was exterminated…

It wasn’t until a “thud” sound rang in his ears that the Holy Monarch was startled awake.

Langmuir looked up and realized that he had walked to the familiar prayer room. A window was not closed, and a brass candlestick in front of the statue might have been blown down by the wind and rolled to the ground.

He stood quietly for a long time, then walked up as if possessed, and pushed open the door of the prayer room.

Creak…

Moonlight poured in from the open door, illuminating the old embroidered cushion on the ground.

Once, when the Holy Monarch was still a devout child, he would clean the prayer room every day, polishing the Goddess until she shone golden, without a speck of dust.

Later, he stopped doing it, and this prayer room, which was exclusively for the use of the Son of God, was also sealed off, covered in dust, a scene of decay.

Langmuir walked in, bent down to pick up the candlestick, and put it back in front of the Goddess.

Seven years had passed, the huge statue of the Goddess was still as before, but the state of mind of the Son of God was vastly different.

Langmuir looked up at the Mother Goddess, recalling the heart-piercing pain of the collapse of faith seven years ago, he was already without sorrow or joy.

The Goddess looked down with a smile.

As if she was looking at him, and as if she wasn’t.

In the small room, it seemed that only a false statue of the Goddess, a Son of God who had lost his faith, and countless floating dust particles were left.

Everything became extremely quiet and pure.

Suddenly, the Holy Monarch swayed and subconsciously held onto the shrine next to him.

An ethereal thought, like a gift from God, descended into his mind!

How to delay time.

How to reduce casualties.

How to expose the ugly face of the temple.

Where exactly was the answer he was seeking.

The confusions that were originally tangled like a mess, suddenly unraveled smoothly.

“Ah…”

Langmuir’s face turned extremely pale, but his eyes flashed with an indescribable light, he gradually began to laugh in a strange way, as if he had realized the truth.

The fingertips holding the candlestick began to tremble, but his heart was leaping for the first time in a long time——

It seemed that he had found it…No, no, he was sure he had found it.

Just at this moment, here.

Langmuir first held the candlestick and walked around aimlessly, happy like a child.

Then, sorrow accompanied by a long pain surged up in his heart, hurting him so much that he bent his back and held onto the shrine, staring blankly.

Finally, Langmuir gave a bitter smile and murmured melancholically, “Goddess….Are you really here, or not?”

The statue, as always, gave him no answer.

Langmuir closed his eyes and took a deep breath, placing the candlestick back in front of the statue.

In the end, the Holy Monarch took a deep look at the Goddess, then turned around and walked out of the prayer room step by step.

…….

That night, the demon army finally besieged the royal city.

The Holy Monarch appeared on the city wall, looking at the Demon King below the city from afar.

The seven-year-old rivals, under the witness of countless humans and demons, agreed to decide the victory or defeat at dawn the next day.

Everyone in the royal city began to pray.

Whether they were old or young, whether they were wealthy merchants or poor farmers.

The elder prophet who was under house arrest was released, he drew the so-called “Prayer to God Formation”, asking believers to cut their wrists, to plead with the Goddess with fresh blood, to bless the Holy Monarch.

The citizens quickly came, they carried lamps of various sizes, either exquisite or simple, like a group of flustered fireflies.

Some were sobbing, some were cursing, but everyone was praying sincerely.

May the Goddess drape the light of victory on their Holy Monarch, may their Majesty return safely.

“Goddess——” they shouted, “Goddess, our Golden Sun!”

“Please bless our beloved Holy Monarch, your most devout and kind child! Please drive away the brutal demons, let evil return to the abyss…”

When they left the formation, they seemed to become a little weaker, but everyone thought it was normal exhaustion after excessive emotional consumption, and did not suspect anything.

The prophet, dressed in a white robe with a golden sun totem, waved his wide sleeves and raised his scepter, promising each believer, “Tomorrow, you will witness miracles with your own eyes!”

The Holy Monarch was also standing there.

The light of the coming and going oil lamps shone on his beautiful and pale face, reflecting in his violet pupils.

He was smiling slightly, although there was an undeniable sadness in his eyes.

“Langmuir,” the prophet suddenly lowered his voice, “I told you long ago, you will succumb.”

“Come on, say something, you are the Son of God, promise miracles to your people.”

Langmuir glanced at the prophet, his lips curling in an inexplicable way.

He composed himself, planted the Sword of Light in front of him, and loudly swore to all the people:

“I am the son favored by the Goddess, my faith is true and sincere!”

“I promise–your devotion will invoke the protection of the Goddess, and the victorious golden sun will descend on our land!”

The people were almost boiling, some shouting “Son of God”, some shouting “Your Majesty”, but most were still calling out to the Goddess.

They knelt down, kowtowed, trying to kiss the shoes of the Holy Monarch. The Langmuir of the past would never allow such a thing to happen, but tonight, he stood solemn and indifferent like a true statue, allowing more people to become crazy.

That night, believers in other cities were also praying for the capital.

The elders in charge of the local temples faithfully executed the prophet’s orders, deceiving the believers’ Mana in the name of prayer.

A small part of them knew the truth, but most of the elders didn’t even know what they were actually doing. The deception that had been woven for hundreds of years had firmly bound their thoughts.

Under the effect of the magic array, countless faint Mana flowed into the body of the Holy Monarch, like streams converging into the sea.

The elder prophet laughed contentedly.

He knew that the upcoming war of salvation, and the miracle witnessed by millions of people, would make the faith in the Golden Sun unshakeable.

The demon army stationed outside the city also faintly heard the movement inside the city.

Hun Yao sat deep in his own tent, staring at the leaders and war generals sitting below.

“Tomorrow, if I win, attack the city directly.”

The Demon King said in a decisive tone.

He paused, then said, “If I lose, also attack the city directly.”

“If I die…”

Chief Watie couldn’t help but speak out, “My King!” He grunted in a deep voice, “The brave demons will not say unlucky words on the eve of a big battle.”

Hun Yao sneered, “So tomorrow if I’m killed by the Holy Monarch, you’ll take these dozen or so tribes of demons back?”

…He really didn’t care, just half explaining the strategy, half explaining the last words, arranged everything before and after, and let a group of demons roll.

The arbitrary Broken Horn Demon King was famous, especially now that the big battle was imminent, no demon dared to provoke him, so they had to leave in a huff.

When the big tent was emptied, those few true confidants of Hun Yao came up to persuade him with a hard scalp.

Old witch doctor Duogu made a face of headache, “My King, actually, you don’t have to duel with the human Holy Monarch, do you?”

“Cunning humans, it’s unknown what tricks they will use, and you have the problem of old injuries…What if something happens!”

Moduo, Muma, and Tianpo, these war generals, tried their best to analyze this decisive battle for their willful king. How it was disadvantageous, how it was fraught with danger.

But all efforts ended in failure, every single demon was thrown out of the big tent by the king himself.

After scaring away all his subordinates fiercely, Hun Yao was about to turn around and return to his tent.

At this moment, a breeze brushed his face. The Demon King found that the moon above his head was so round and bright.

In fact, he was clearer than anyone else.

The demons admired strength far more than humans, especially valuing one-on-one duels.

He had walked a bloody path for seven years, barely being called “My King” by so many leaders. But if he were to lose tomorrow, even if he didn’t die, he would never have a day to be king in the abyss again.

But the Demon King had been longing for this day for too long. He even felt that he had lived until now just for this battle.

So Hun Yao thought recklessly, what’s the worst that could happen, it’s just going back to seven years ago. He could afford to lose.

He held the bronze curved blade, his fingers slowly tightening.

Just once, just messing around this once.

In the early morning, this was the darkest time of the day.

Inside the palace, Prince Aiden was anxiously waiting. He dared not imagine how tormented Langmuir would be when he reluctantly accepted the prayers of the people.

But all of this was a helpless move to defend the royal city, how could he blame his brother? Time was running out, he had to comfort his brother, he couldn’t let him fight the Demon King with a disturbed mind…

It was at this time that Langmuir returned to the palace and went straight into the study.

When Aiden rushed over upon hearing the news, the Holy Monarch was personally organizing the books.

He bent over, putting books and note papers into the box one by one, and finally took out a parchment scroll from a locked drawer and gently placed it on top.

Upon hearing the sound of the door, Langmuir slowly straightened up and smiled, “…Aiden.”

“Did you see…they believe in me so much, crying and praying for me. It turns out that it’s so simple for a monarch to deceive the people.”

Under the dim light, the Holy Monarch’s forehead was covered with fine sweat, and his lips were so pale that there was no trace of blood.

Aiden was shocked and rushed over, “Brother, what’s wrong with you!?”

He held Langmuir’s arm, but was even more shocked. That patch of skin was as cold as ice, he could feel it even through the fabric!

“You…”

Aiden was completely frightened, about to call for a doctor, Langmuir covered his mouth with one hand, “Shush.”

Even the palm of his hand was cold.

Aiden was almost crying with anxiety, Langmuir said in a low voice, “Don’t make a fuss. I’m fine, I’ve just consumed too much Mana and suffered some backlash, I’ll be fine after a rest.”

Consume Mana!?

Aiden widened his eyes, how could he consume Mana, wasn’t all the Mana of the people gathered into the Holy Monarch’s body tonight?

At this time, Langmuir should be the person with the most abundant Mana in the entire kingdom!

He hurriedly used his own Mana to probe into his brother’s body, and then took a cold breath, his vision went black.

“Brother! You–you didn’t accept the believers’ Mana at all!?”

“Shush.” Langmuir lightly, once again put his finger on his brother’s lips, “Quiet, listen to me.”

When he withdrew his hand, the Holy Monarch swayed a bit.

Forcibly transferring such a huge amount of Mana caused him no small consumption.

It wouldn’t matter normally, but if the opponent was that Demon King, he’s afraid…

Langmuir thought bitterly: If Hun Yao knew, he would definitely be very angry.

The Demon King was so obsessed with this revenge. He must be looking forward to a hearty battle where both sides give their all.

But he, himself, was destined not to be able to meet the appointment in the most perfect state. He was always ashamed of that Demon King, time and time again.

But, this was also the path he chose.

“Listen to me,” Langmuir steadied himself, he held his brother’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Aiden…I’m going to become a sinner.”