Duskfall Keep.
Those Blood Guards, who once wore scarlet armor and guarded this place day and night like statues, were now nowhere to be seen.
Their wills had been permanently twisted, loyal only to Mortis alone. Now, the vast majority of the Blood Guards had been imprisoned.
"Lord Prince."
As two new guards bowed in salute, they pulled open the castle doors for Darion.
In Duskfall Keep, which appeared somewhat deserted due to the lack of guards, Darion walked all the way to the outside of the throne hall.
From afar, he saw that familiar figure.
Pure white gloves, a crisp robe, and that wide-brimmed hat, just like three hundred years ago.
Although he had long known of the Demon King's return, seeing the Demon King in person still made Darion unconsciously agitated.
However, he did not step forward immediately; His Majesty the Demon King was currently receiving someone else.
"I am fully aware of your situation. The Demon-kin did not participate in the rebellion against Rune back then; I will not blame you."
The Demon King pulled up Grey, who was kneeling on the ground trembling and weeping bitterly, and took Dean's magic core from his hands.
"Grey, are you willing to take over the heavy burden of leading the Demon-kin?"
The unexpected question made Grey stare blankly for a moment, but soon, he lowered his head again: "Lord Demon King... my... my strength is insufficient..."
Grey's current strength was merely approaching the Palace tier.
"Strength is not an issue," the Demon King said, shaking his head. "I can graft the remaining power within Dean's magic core onto you, but you must be clear that this is by no means a reward. Do you have the resolve to move forward bearing this heavy burden, even if it means enduring prolonged pain and torment?"
In order to let Grey clearly understand what kind of pain he was talking about, the Demon King gently rested a hand on Grey's shoulder.
The power of the Blood Calamity drilled into Grey's body through his shoulder. Grey felt as if something was taking root and growing inside his body, altering his original bones, muscles, and magic crests, dismantling them and piecing them back together into another shape.
Although Grey gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound, bead-sized drops of sweat slid down his face.
"A perfect modification requires long-term experimentation and adjustment, but right now there are neither the conditions nor the time, so I can only adopt this brutal method. Although the subsequent pain won't be as intense as it is now, it will permanently remain within you and cannot be eradicated. This is the price."
The Demon King removed his hand from his shoulder, quietly waiting for an answer.
Grey lowered his head. Flashing before his eyes were his clansmen who, after Dean's death, had fled their homes and lived in a constant state of panic.
He clenched his hands into fists.
"Lord Demon King, I am willing."
The Demon King nodded.
"After I return, I will transplant the magic core for you. Before that, rest and recover your body and spirit first."
Grey bowed deeply, turned around, and withdrew.
Darion watched him walk past, watched him disappear into the twilight outside the door, and only then stepped into the main hall.
The Demon King looked at him, smiled briefly, and then turned serious: "Darion, I know you also have a lot you want to say, but time waits for no one. I need you to lead an army to support Levi."
"Yes, Lord Demon King." Darion answered crisply, without any superfluous pleasantries, as if this wasn't a reunion after three hundred years. "But what if we face a pincer attack from the Mushroom Fortress and the mountain dwarves? I'm afraid we would fall into a bitter struggle then."
"As for the Mushroom Fortress, according to our analysis, they are likely still digesting their gains from the last war and are unlikely to launch another attack in the short term. If they really do attack..." The Demon King paused. "Then persuade Levi to organize an orderly retreat. Before resolving the parasitism issue, it's not suitable for the Empire to break into large-scale warfare with them again. Dealing with them doesn't necessarily have to be through legion battles."
Darion nodded. He took the detailed mission arrangement from the Demon King's hands, tucked it into his sleeve, turned around, and was about to leave, but suddenly stopped. "Right, Lord Demon King." He asked a question he suddenly thought of, "When I go over this time, should I conveniently release all those slaves in Levi's territory?"
He remembered very clearly.
At the beginning of the Empire's founding, slavery was explicitly abolished.
In those years, the sound of shackles was no longer heard in the border mines, and when the nobles sat together to discuss matters, no one spoke of "slaves" anymore. It was after Mortis ascended to the throne that, in order to win over a group of power holders during the civil war with the werewolves, he dug this system out of its grave.
And now, the Demon King was about to personally head to Eleanor's territory to supervise the dismantling of those Blood Livestock Factories. In his view, the signal was obvious enough: the Empire was going to return to its original track.
However, exceeding Darion's expectations, after hearing this question, the Demon King remained silent for a full two seconds before turning around, and with his back to Darion, he replied: "No, the situation is different now. After you go over, just have Levi improve the treatment of those slaves, ensuring they no longer starve or work to death. As for the rest... we will discuss it later."
Darion thought about it and felt it made sense. The Empire was plagued by internal and external troubles; suddenly releasing the slaves would cause new chaos both above and below. There really was no need to rush it at this moment. Thus, he accepted the order and withdrew.
The Demon King turned his head, seemingly seeing in Darion's retreating back the flourishing Empire of three hundred years ago—that perfect Empire in his hands, which was about to cross the obstacle called "racial hatred" and achieve final peaceful unification.
It was a pity...
"Everything is but a reflection in the water. It is impossible for a perfect nation to be born in this world."
A teleportation magic array emerged out of thin air beneath the Demon King's feet. The next instant, following the coordinates recorded by the Empire, he teleported to the teleportation array in Eleanor's castle.
The reason he had come over alone, traveling light without the slightest bit of imperial pomp immediately after arranging his other affairs...
...was because, aside from the Empire currently being fraught with crises and having no time to delay, another important reason was that he had read all the records in the Empire concerning Eleanor.
She was an existence whose level of viciousness and stupidity would rank high even if placed in the late Aurelian Dynasty.
The Demon King was somewhat afraid she would do something stupid like "draining the blood livestock dry to make a final profit right before he arrived."
However, the moment he landed, the Demon King immediately sensed an anomaly...
Moving the time slightly back, inside the Night Lily Manor, two hours after Eleanor received the transmission from Duskfall Keep.
"Drain all those blood livestock dry at once!" Eleanor, who was powerless to oppose the Demon King and had nowhere to relocate her factories, had a sudden flash of inspiration and thought of a good way to somewhat reduce her losses.
She looked at her subordinates, who were glancing at each other in dismay, and roared: "What are you still dazing out for? Didn't you hear what I said? Go quickly! Before the people from Duskfall Keep arrive!" What she didn't know was that this scene, through the mycelial threads in the manor, was transmitted without the slightest reservation into the vision of some selected blood livestock slaves. In the management room of a certain Blood Livestock Factory, the breeders usually responsible for drawing blood had already fallen in a pool of blood.
The only living creatures left in the room were a blood-stained Puchi and a blood livestock slave whose eyes were full of hatred.
The slave took a pitch-black little mushroom from between the Puchi's tentacles, trembling as he asked: "Is it really true that as long as I eat this, I can get my revenge?" The Puchi's tentacle rested gently on his shoulder: "Of course. Your despair and pain will resonate with this Despair Mushroom to the maximum extent. Those guys who hurt you will taste the pain you have suffered a hundred times over!"
Having gotten the answer he wanted, the slave looked at the Despair Mushroom in his hand, a ferocious expression appearing on his face, and swallowed it in one gulp.
The next moment, his clothes burst open, and thick black mist spewed forth, enveloping the entire city at an extremely fast speed.
(End of Chapter)
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