“Seven years, how long does my King want to test this slave?”
On the way back to the royal court, Langmuir, as usual, nestled in the arms of the Demon King, riding a wildebeest, suddenly sighed, “You know that this slave has already given everything.”
Hun Yao stretched out his claws, rubbed the human’s silver hair like teasing a little bird. “Give up. Not to mention seven years, even if it’s another seventy years, I won’t let go of my guard against you. Unless I die.”
Langmuir seemed thoughtful. “Then, what if this slave dies first?”
Hun Yao’s face sank. “Foolish.”
What kind of answer is “foolish”?
Langmuir showed a bit of helplessness, and not very politely pulled down Hun Yao’s scale claw that was rubbing his hair.
The latter was not angry, but pinched the human’s slender knuckles, and said in a commanding tone. “Don’t say such things again in the future.”
The gazes of countless demon soldiers behind them floated around. Obviously, they wanted to see, but they didn’t dare to watch.
Mo Duo swung her long whip boredly, leaned over and whispered to the demon general Asayin, who was titled ‘Ji Feng’. “Hey, stone face, when do you guess Lord Langmuir will be crowned queen?”
Asayin rode a wildebeest with an expressionless face. “Wait until our King can let go of his face and propose, sir.”
Mo Duo: “Just talking nonsense.”
The triumphant army carried the spoils of war and marched on the scorched earth of the abyss. The captives were tied up with hemp ropes, walking behind, their thin faces full of anxiety and melancholy.
“My King has beautifully won this time,” Langmuir looked back, letting the wind behind him mess up his silver hair, “The Wai Tie Tribe is destroyed, and there is no hidden danger to the north of the royal court from now on.”
“It was bound to happen.” Hun Yao said, “If he didn’t rebel, I would kill him at the latest next year.”
“Yes, you did say two years ago that you would settle Wai Tie before the next winter comes.” Langmuir smiled, “My King always keeps his word.”
Hun Yao didn’t respond. Although Wai Tie was a great demon bloodline with outstanding talents and occupied a large territory in the north, he was brave but lacked strategy, short-sighted, and not a difficult bone to chew.
In fact, over the years, the real enemies that Hun Yao had taken seriously could be counted on one hand. And the only opponent who could force him to burn his heart and lungs, grit his teeth, and be anxious and dreamy, was the one who was now sitting in the arms of the Demon King.
Taking advantage of Langmuir’s inattention, Hun Yao gently placed his palm on the human’s hair again. The latter looked up in confusion and made a “hmm?” sound.
“…Langmuir,” the Demon King stared ahead, paused, and said in a deep voice, “You know, we have done a great thing.”
Langmuir nodded, he knew.
Never had any demon leader in the abyss accepted such a large number of captives from an enemy tribe, let alone allowed the defeated tribesmen to easily migrate into their territory. But this time, Hun Yao took away all the people of the Wai Tie tribe who were willing to follow him. They would follow the triumphant army to the south, trek through the rugged mountains and frozen rivers, and rebuild their homes under the protection of the Demon King.
“If these demons can settle down as citizens of the royal court and survive the next winter…”
“By then,” Langmuir took over Hun Yao’s words and said softly, “My King will be the true Lord of the Abyss, and no demon will dare to question you again.”
“That’s great.” He squinted his eyes, “My King has accomplished a great cause, and the dawn is shining on the abyss. I…”
“What about you?”
“I’m very happy.”
—No. Hun Yao frowned, what this person almost blurted out just now was definitely not this. He looked down at the human in his arms, Langmuir was leaning lazily on his shoulder, lowering his head. Although he was smiling, his eyelids were slightly drooping, and his eyes were a little foggy.
Something flashed in Hun Yao’s mind, and he blurted out, “Are you tired?”
Langmuir smiled silently. He lowered his eyelashes and breathed shallowly. “A little sleepy.”
In the past half year, Hun Yao clearly sensed that Langmuir’s body was deteriorating, and he dared not let this person ride with him anymore. At the back of the team were carriages pulling heavy loads. Hun Yao personally picked a cleaner one, settled Langmuir in, and left a few guards to watch over.
Langmuir himself didn’t care much, he leaned in the carriage, still had the heart to stick out his head, and talked to the Wai Tie tribesmen who were walking around, comforting them with a gentle voice.
Hun Yao, who had originally ridden on the wildebeest and was about to leave, had to turn back again, forcibly stuffed him back into the carriage, and ordered him. “Sleep.”
Langmuir had to find a corner in the carriage to lie down, he patted the Demon King’s arm, and said, “This slave just remembered the first year when he came to the abyss.”
At that moment, Hun Yao’s heart contracted.
He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to stop something, but failed, and could only listen to Langmuir finish speaking.
“That time was also because of the captives, my King was angry with me, wasn’t it?” Langmuir sighed and relaxed his eyebrows. “Now when recalling it, it feels like a lifetime ago…”
****
In the seventh year of bringing the Holy Monarch to the abyss, Demon King Hun Yao had to face such a painful fact: he was increasingly unable to bear Langmuir mentioning their past, mentioning those bloody memories of the early years.
Hun Yao was unwilling to accept such an absurd situation. In order to escape his true feelings, he had struggled for a long time, tried various methods, but all to no avail. Now he was forced to admit: Yes, the fact is so absurd, he regrets it.
He regretted every harm he did to Langmuir in the past. Even if they were enemies at that time.
When Hun Yao rode back to the front of the team, he knew that he couldn’t bear the journey ahead.
Because he also started to remember the first year.
At that time, Langmuir had just arrived in the abyss, and he was already in a state of serious injury. He was deprived of his Mana by Hun Yao with honey gold, infused with demon breath, and added the effect of the curse, the cruelty was no less than torture.
The miasma invaded his body recklessly, like a flame burning his internal organs incessantly. Langmuir almost died of pain, and by the last few days, his consciousness had dissipated, as if he had been burned into an empty shell with only ashes left.
And the heavy shackles were pressing on his hands and feet, the wounds were repeatedly ulcerated, the flesh and blood were blurred, and dark red blood stains spread on the thin coarse clothes.
Not only that, he was also locked behind the Demon King’s palace like livestock, only allowed to sit or crawl, and had to refer to himself as a slave. All the demons who came to see the Demon King passed by here, they would insult him at will, snatch his food and water, and tore his clothes.
During that time, no demon thought that this noble-born human could endure such torture.
They were eager, waiting with cruel and excited minds for when the king of humans would die, and how miserable his death would be.
But Langmuir always maintained obedient patience.
He never resisted, never vented, and lay quietly in the corner every day enduring pain – most of the time, he had to hug himself because of the cold.
If he had strength one day, he would raise his head and gaze at the dark dome outside the window. The light emitted by the barrier was like the moon. Above the illusory moon was his unreachable hometown.
Then, as the days passed, he survived from the gap between life and death.
It was not that he got better, but that he adapted. Just like the tenacious weeds rooting in the rock crevices, just like every demon in the abyss… His body began to adapt to breathing in the miasma and living in the dark.
The demons were obviously dissatisfied with this, so they intensified their humiliation of him.
One late night, the young demon king came to see his trophy after a long absence.
Langmuir was naked, curled up in the corner and fell into a coma, his eyebrows were tightly furrowed, his lips were chapped, and blood was seeping out.
Hun Yao silently watched him for a while, his gaze fell on the food bowl and water basin that had been broken for an unknown period of time next to him, and he could probably guess what had happened.
He kicked the slave’s chain on his body and woke him up.
Langmuir opened his unfocused eyes, and it took a long time to wake up. He looked up at Hun Yao with his pale face, and even smiled laboriously, calling out to him, “My King.”
Hun Yao looked down from above, his scaly face indistinguishable in the dark, “Regret it?”
“This is the abyss, the dirty place where the dirty demons live. Langmuir you shouldn’t have come.”
Langmuir said, “I have already realized.”
Hun Yao: “Self-proclaimed.”
Langmuir: “…So this slave does not regret.”
“Besides,” he coughed softly, “this is the deal between my King and this slave. The demons no longer harm the people of the royal city, and this slave submits to you, as agreed.”
Hun Yao’s eyes showed a hint of disdain, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he took off a copper wine pouch from his waist and threw it on the ground, “Drink it, the milk of a wild sheep. Your Majesty probably wouldn’t like it, but this is all you have now.”
Langmuir struggled to crawl over. But the cold and weakness made his fingers tremble constantly, and he couldn’t pull out the hard stopper no matter what. He tried for a long time to no avail. Hun Yao just stood there watching, not only did he not feel a bit of pleasure from seeing his enemy’s downfall, but instead felt a strange irritability.
Before Hun Yao could figure out the source of this irritability, the slave stopped moving.
Langmuir lifted the wine pouch towards him and said, “My King, help me.”
Hun Yao was stunned.
He frowned with uncertainty, “What?”
Langmuir was also puzzled, “Didn’t you want to give me something to drink?”
“…..” Hun Yao was silent for a long time, with a strange expression, “Your Majesty, your mentality is really good.”
He bent down to take the pouch from Langmuir’s hand, and simply sat down next to the slave, “Many demons are waiting for the end of the Holy Monarch, and half of the abyss is betting on whether you die first or go crazy first. Some guys have put up most of their family’s fortune, it seems they are going to lose everything.”
Langmuir asked, “Can this slave also bet?”
Hun Yao: “……”
Hun Yao: “Wake up, all of you are mine, what are you going to bet with?”
“Perhaps my King would be willing to lend me some money? If I win the money, it’s as if you’ve won the money…”
Hun Yao’s forehead twitched, and he stuffed his mouth with the pouch filled with sheep’s milk. The Demon King’s action was too violent, and Langmuir was choked and started coughing again. The weak sound echoed in the palace late at night.
Even so, after he finished drinking, he sincerely expressed to the Demon King that it was “very delicious” and “thank you”.
Another night, Hun Yao saw Langmuir talking to a demon attendant from a distance. After a while, the attendant slapped Langmuir and spat at him, then left arrogantly.
Hun Yao stood in the shadows and watched the whole process, then walked over leisurely and asked Langmuir what he had said to the attendant.
“Oh, that gentleman? He taught me a lot.” Unexpectedly, Langmuir laughed, even though there were scars on his cheeks that the night could not cover, but those light purple eyes were very clear.
He pointed to the glowing barrier outside the window, “That cliff is called the Barrier Cliff, and the barrier is also known as the Cliff Moon in the abyss. The reason why the earth of the abyss burns is because there are fire veins deep underground…”
“In addition, the abyss does not have a circulating currency, and demons only barter.” He laughed, “So my King refused to lend me money last time, because you don’t have ‘money’, right?”
Hun Yao suddenly asked him, “Why are there fire veins underground?” Langmuir was stunned, shook his head and said he didn’t know, then straightened up and asked, “Why?”
Hun Yao: “Do you think I know?”
Langmuir: “…”
Hun Yao’s mood was unpleasantly pleased, “I just wanted to try, whether you would say ‘because the evil demons were punished by the Mother of Light’… If you said that, I would kill you.”
Therefore Lagmuir laughed again, even though this shouldn’t be a joke for him. He was beautiful when he laughed, very cute, just like the son of god who grew up surrounded by light, flowers, and love.
It’s strange, Hun Yao thought to himself, Langmuir seems to be born without the ability to hate, at least on the surface.
He doesn’t hate any human, including those who repay kindness with ingratitude. He doesn’t hate any demon, even though he is suffering inhuman torture at this moment.
Since avenging the arrow of that year, Hun Yao had not only tortured this defeated general more, but he never stopped the clans from humiliating Langmuir.
So he thought, at least Langmuir should hate himself, the culprit.
But he didn’t. Not only did Langmuir not hate him, but he often smiled at him, more than any other demon.
He was really beautiful when he smiled, and cute.
Soon, Hun Yao got used to coming to see his trophy when it was quiet at night. The abyss was full of the smell of blood, only this person was like a cool spring, suitable for waking up or relieving pain, and very comfortable.
But this enjoyment, which was a bit embarrassing at the time, ended in a way that Hun Yao never expected.
“My King.” That night, Langmuir said to him, “This slave heard that you just quelled a rebellion and will execute all the captives tomorrow.”
This hurts sl much 😭😭😭😭