Chapter 1310: Chapter 1281: Demon King
Minor world in the Far West.
This is the territory of the Demon Clan. Originally, the Demon Clan had been entrenched in the west of the minor world, and after the outbreak of war, the Demon Clan rapidly took in the surrounding races and territories, making them their own.
Of course, wars are never entirely satisfactory, with the Demon Clan experiencing both victories and defeats in their external conflicts. But generally speaking, they have achieved more victories, which is a source of pride for them. As for those defeats, they don’t mind, because they believe it won’t be long before they win again.
At this time, a piece of news came from afar.
This message, once spread, shook the entire Demon Clan.
"What? Black Sword was defeated?"
"How is that possible? How could Black Sword lose?"
"In the East? Could it be the work of the elf race?"
The news of Black Sword’s defeat spread throughout the Demon Clan almost instantly.
Although Ning Wangyang hadn’t been with the Demon Clan for long, his name had already echoed throughout the entire Demon Clan.
And this reputation was something he had fought for with his own hands.
Although outsiders may hold some prejudice against the Demon Clan, the fierce competition within the clan is undisputed.
Here, if you don’t have exceptional skills, survival is impossible.
Officially, the Demon Clan forbids internal conflict, but behind the scenes, scheming never ceases.
Assassinations, sneak attacks, and territorial disputes between branches are incredibly intense.
Many races say the Human Race loves internal strife the most, but compared to the Demon Clan, the Humans fall far short.
However, unlike the Human Race, this internal strife is tacitly accepted.
For with competition comes growth. As long as this internal competition is kept within certain bounds, the Demon Clan will continue to produce powerful individuals.
This rule was personally established by the Demon King who sits in the palace’s innermost sanctum.
And Ning Wangyang, through this brutal competition, carved out his own fame and territory.
Within the Demon Clan, even Burning Heat Level experts are reluctant to provoke this Madman.
Because if this guy truly decides to act, he really won’t care about the consequences.
And for some unknown reason, the Demon King seems to have a fondness for this rule-breaking guy, leading others to become increasingly wary of him.
But this time, he was defeated.
Within the Demon Clan, many secretly rejoiced at the misfortune.
Similarly, some were worried. If even Ning Wangyang lost, then how many experts would the Demon Clan need to send next time to settle the East?
Of course, those who worry are only in the minority.
For these Demons, seeing others suffer misfortune is inherently an immensely pleasurable thing.
Of course, pleasure aside, such a significant event still needs to be reported upward.
Thus, as the message passed through the ranks, finally, a Demon who looked almost identical to a human, except for a pair of demon horns, carried the news into the deepest palace of the Demon Clan.
For reasons unknown, although the Demon King taught the Demon Clan many things and laid out highly regulated plans for dealing with other races, and had showcased his own formidable, near-invincible power in the eyes of these demons,
he seemingly never knew what it meant to enjoy life.
Year after year, he stayed in this palace, isolated from the world.
He only delegated tasks or plans when necessary, but most of the time, he just quietly stayed inside this palace, silently sitting on the throne.
No servants, no maids, not even guards inside, all remained outside the palace.
Leaving him alone in this dead-silent palace.
"King!"
Entering the palace, this pale-skinned Demon respectfully knelt on one knee.
"What’s the matter?" A voice emerged from the slightly dark palace.
The voice wasn’t old; instead, it sounded somewhat young.
This great demon with Burning Heat Level power remained kneeling, not daring to rise, speaking respectfully, "Subordinate has just received news from below that Black Sword was defeated in the East."
"Oh? Black Sword lost?" The voice seemed somewhat puzzled: "Any details? Who defeated him, and how?"
"My King, we haven’t received much information. But from some other channels, we know that the one who defeated Black Sword was not the elven Queen."
"Not Patricia, is there someone else stronger than Patricia?" The Demon King seemed a bit surprised, then spoke, "Alright, I understand. You may leave."
"Yes!"
"By the way." The Demon King’s indifferent voice continued, "Tell your Ram Horns tribe to behave recently. Bullying the new members is fine, but if you eat them all, you’ll have to handle their tasks yourself."
"Su... Subordinate understands."
"Alright, leave." The Demon King’s indifferent voice came again.
When the Ram-Horned Demon left the palace, he discovered his forehead was drenched in cold sweat.
Not daring to look back, the Ram-Horned Demon rushed back to his tribe as quickly as possible.
"Black Sword was defeated too? I quite liked that little fellow, what a pity."
Inside the palace, the Demon King’s gentle sigh echoed, then stopped. Behind the Demon King’s throne, a glimmer of light appeared and slowly spread to the sides.
Behind the throne was actually a large door!
Outside the door, nothing was clear, only a blur of chaos, as if nothing existed.
Slowly stepping to the door, the Demon King gently extended a hand.
A hand much like a human’s but even paler.
Lightly placing it upon the chaos, it was clearly visible that, as if triggered by the Demon King’s touch, an endless storm surged towards him from within the chaos.
In an instant, the storm wrapped around the Demon King’s hand.
However, no matter how the storm cut, it couldn’t harm even a single hair on the Demon King’s hand.
And the Demon King’s gaze wasn’t on his hand but rather on a place within the chaos beyond the storm.
There, a thin black crack appeared.
"The dimensional gate has been damaged? After all these years, it seems the moment has finally come for me."
A faint smile appeared beneath the blurry face, enough to intoxicate both men and women alike.