Chapter 839 - 824: The Beginning of Conflict

Chapter 839: Chapter 824: The Beginning of Conflict

Link stopped on the weed-filled forest path.

Not far ahead was Qingquan Village, but he did not move forward.

A demon emerged from the bushes, blocking the path.

Its body was white and round, with a mushroom cap stained with a few dead leaves. It walked on short legs, directly towards Link.

Unlike the progeny three hundred years later, who sweep the continent and self-destruct at the slightest provocation, even the Demon King dared not touch them, this purely natural Puki lacked any combat ability, not even tentacles.

The reason it was running towards Link was probably because it was attracted by the Wind Wolf meat in Link’s bag, triggering its instinct to spread spores towards corpses.

Thus, Link’s dinner was decided as wolf meat stewed with mushrooms.

The only thing that puzzled Link was that the forest was not a typical activity area for a demon like Puki.

After all, Puki is born from a fungal mat, and fungal mats generally only grow fixedly in cold, damp areas like swamps and caves.

In the forest area, even if Puki spread spores, the mycelium would soon be wiped out by the weeds, let alone grow into patches sufficient to produce Puki.

"Is there a swamp nearby?"

With confusion, Link carried the struggling Puki and continued forward.

When he passed through the forest and arrived at the open area where the village was located, he was stunned by the sight before him.

The old tree at the village entrance was wrapped in mycelium, turning gray-white, branches drooping.

The village center’s open space was stacked with villagers’ corpses, mostly decomposed by the fungal mat, with many newly spawned Puki wandering around the village.

There were also other demons like Slimes and giant deer, either preying on Puki or decomposing corpses, moving about in this long-devastated village.

Seeing the obvious artificially stacked mountain of corpses, the Puki slipped from Link’s hand to the ground and ran away.

"Who did this?"

Link entered the village and easily discovered some footprints that were neither human nor those of demons.

"Demon Race... A scale of no less than a hundred?"

After a round of searching, confirming there were no survivors, Link did not continue west according to his original plan but turned around, running back the way he had come.

...

Demon King City.

In the magnificent council hall, with the domed ceiling towering, the candlelight cast alternating shadows on the columns flanking the long table. Duke Ru’en stood before the platform, summarizing the series of reports just mentioned, "Your Majesty the Demon King, thanks to your improved crops, the Empire is now rich in resources. The population has increased again this year, each city stable and prosperous, a sight of flourishing brilliance."

"Indeed." The Demon King tapped twice on the armrest with faux claws, then shifted the topic, "Last time I asked you to investigate, how is that matter? What do the demons within the Empire think of the humans in the south now?"

Ru’en paused briefly, answering cautiously, "Most dismiss them, seeing them as a lower race. A few harbor hostility but do not take them seriously. As for sympathy or mercy... there’s almost none."

Knowing the Demon King’s plans, Ru’en licked his lips, looking at the other with some difficulty, "Your Majesty..."

"No problem." The Demon King interrupted him, "I expected this, at least it’s not predominantly hostile."

"Naturally," Ru’en nodded, "Over two hundred years have passed, besides the Blood Race and Demon Race, those demons who bore deep-seated resentment toward humans have long perished. Without new conflict, even profound hatred dissipates in two or three generations. Moreover, currently thriving is the Empire; humans can only establish settlements in forest swamps. Facing such humans naturally breeds a sense of superiority, not hatred."

"However... Forgive my bluntness, but I feel your plan to integrate humans into the Empire still faces numerous obstacles. Certainly, with your prestige, a full push for this matter won’t meet opposition, but the real trouble begins after they join, inevitably birthing a multitude of new conflicts. Perhaps, for humans, if we continue ignoring them, they might fare better."

Faced with Ru’en’s advice, the Demon King shook his head, "Continuing to ignore them will only lead to temporary peace. Without thoroughly eliminating this disparity, war will eventually erupt again. In fact, not just humans, I also want to assimilate the Dwarves and Elves, only needing to proceed step by step."

"Your Majesty, I don’t understand." Ru’en said, "The Empire possesses absolute Power; even combined forces of Dwarves, Elves, and Humans pose no threat. Without the Empire actively attacking, how could they possibly instigate war? Regarding the human integration plan, if we wait another hundred years, it would presumably come easier."

The Demon King remained silent for a while, then explained, "Ru’en, recently I’ve been researching those fogs that block the seaway west of the Archipelago, which you know. I’ve made some discoveries, and simply put, we may not have as much time as we previously imagined. Before a crisis arrives, I need to unite as much power as possible."

Ru’en’s expression became solemn; he had no doubt about the Demon King’s words and directly asked, "Lord Demon King, from your perspective, how much time do we have left?"

"At least three hundred, at most four hundred years."

Ru’en nodded gravely, "I understand, I will draft an initial integration plan, starting with trade exchanges."

"Uh-huh, much appreciated."

The Demon King stood up, magic power outlining a temporary teleportation array aimed at the Archipelago under his feet. Yet, just as it was about to activate, he was stopped by the sudden calling of Duke Ru’en.

The Demon King’s facial features changed, casting a sidelong glance at Ru’en.

After all, Rune rarely behaves so flamboyantly.

"Sorry, Your Majesty, I suddenly remembered something. Normally, such minor things wouldn’t be included in the report, but since you mentioned humans, I feel I should inform you."

"What is it?"

"The Hand of Death, the cult that worships the Death God and enjoys sacrifices. Although it has never been completely eradicated, they have been dormant for a long time after the several raids. Recently, someone discovered that some suspected cultists escaped from the Empire through a path in the Red Ridge Mountain Range. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem; leaving the Empire is easy for them, but returning silently would be difficult. But... if they’ve entered human territory..."

The Demon King pondered, the Hand of Death that escaped the Empire must naturally be the Demon Race...

After some thought, he instructed Rune to organize a team, track them down, and specifically advised them to act cautiously and avoid conflict with humans.

...

This tracking team was led by two Palace Level experts, one who excelled in scent tracking, a Werewolf, and one skilled in gathering intelligence through charm, an Enchanting Demon.

With their cooperation, they soon found a clue—a recently slaughtered human mountain village and a human captive suspected to be a cultist.

Purple light flowed in the Enchanting Demon’s eyes, the captive clutched his head in pain, letting out a wretched scream.

His appearance made the Enchanting Demon frown: "This person’s spirit is too tenacious, not like an ordinary villager. Forcing charm will only make him a madman; he has to be taken back for a slow interrogation."

The Werewolf tugged at his mouth, dissatisfied: "Going back and forth, even if you get something, it’ll probably be outdated."

"Then why don’t you follow his scent to find those who’ve been in contact with him?"

The Werewolf’s mouth twitched. If he could do that, he would have led the team there long ago. The other party had obviously dealt with the scent traces, and only this captive happened to fall into their hands, the only clue.

The two were about to continue their argument when suddenly a low mumbling voice came from behind.

"This is just a plot mission... They’re all NPCs... just NPCs... NPCs..."

"Who!" Both turned simultaneously, a human youth standing at the edge of the village ruins, appearing out of nowhere.

Being able to approach silently to such a distance already signifies danger.

The Enchanting Demon and Werewolf instantly dropped their dispute and entered a guarded state, watching the newcomer vigilantly.

They weren’t sure if the comer was an accomplice of the cultists or a passing human; they were about to inquire when the suspiciously bound human suddenly shouted:

"Lord Link!"

"They... they killed everyone in Bai Nian Village! Avenge us—!"

As the sentence ended, a dark substance like water surged from his mouth and nose, the lethal darkness instantly engulfing several nearby members of the Demon Race, while others swiftly retreated.

Realizing something was wrong, the Werewolf’s expression changed: "What is he saying? Translator! Translator?"

However, the translator he was searching for was earlier responsible for translating for the captive and was right beside that human, the first to be affected by the darkness, now silent within it.

Very quickly, the Werewolf and Enchanting Demon had no time to deal with translation issues.

"De—mon—Race—!"

The human on the opposite side, eyes filled with hatred, agitatedly grabbing his hair, took a step forward, the ground cracked, smoke stirred, and his Longsword unsheathed.

The Werewolf agilely jumped on the fractured ground, lowering his stance: "At least Lord Level! Loya, cover me!"

"Got it!" The Enchanting Demon’s eyes radiated with intense purple light, forcefully pushing spiritual power into the opponent’s mind.

Disregarding the previous minor discord, the two team captains cooperated sincerely to face Link.

[Sword Heart]

[Extreme Sword]

...

Link, covered in blood, stepped over the demon race remnants, through fallen beams, arriving at a nearly entirely collapsed house.

He searched amidst the ruins for a long time, eventually finding only a tattered commission.

Upon spreading it open, a copper plate rolled out from the scroll, stopping at his foot.

The name of the client on the sheepskin scroll was... Twenty-Two.