Chapter 234
It was clear to him that the fate of all the slaves being gathered in one place was worse than death. Even if he had no attachment to them, they were still humans. As a fellow human, it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t respond in kind.
‘If what I have in mind is possible, I might just be able to save the others.’
But it wouldn’t be for the slaves—it would be for his plan.
Vasoth could never have imagined that their decision to seal off the city would only make it easier for Oliver to push his plan forward.
The city was no longer a city—it was now a hunting ground. Oliver felt a dark thrill settle in his chest as he thought about it. It was only a matter of time before it became clear who was the hunter and who was the prey.
The demons at the bar were confused. The sudden chill they all felt at the same time was inexplicable.
The two demons who had been chattering earlier left the bar. Like the others, they too felt a sudden discomfort in the atmosphere, so they decided to leave.
The table where Oliver had been seated was now empty.
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“Damn! I feel itchy on my back. What was that just now?” the green-skinned demon asked.
“I don’t know. It was definitely not something good,” his companion replied, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but feel tense as well.
Even after the two had left the bar, the heavy feeling didn’t leave them—it only intensified with each step they took.
They were alone in the alley, and strangely, there was no one else around. Only their footsteps echoed in their ears.
Each step felt heavier than the last as they continued walking in silence.
Suddenly, a voice called out.
“Hey.”
The two froze in their tracks. The heavy pressure intensified as soon as they stopped, as if they were carrying hundreds of rocks on their shoulders.
The voice sounded like a child’s, but for some reason, neither of them could turn around. It was as though they were frozen in place.
Were they really frozen? No.
They were shivering—a primal fear had taken hold of them, and neither dared to move.
Their instincts told them that if they took just one step, they would die.
The brave green-skinned demon with three arms from earlier gnashed his teeth, trying to push through the fear gripping him.
He hadn’t even seen the opponent’s face, yet he was paralyzed with fear, shaking in his boots. His claws trembled violently.
He and his companion had many enemies in the back alleys, and regular fights were not uncommon. It was survival of the fittest, just like anywhere else with demons.
But he had never felt such a terrible sensation before. It was as if he were sitting inches away from the maw of a terrifying monster. If he moved, the monster would devour him.
But even then, he was a hot-blooded demon and forced himself to face it. He let out a demonic scream and turned around to confront the owner of the voice.
He saw it.
His final sight. A boy in dark hooded clothes. A black hood concealed his features, but beneath that pitch-black darkness were two ominous orbs of death.
Golden sulfuric clouds shimmered above him, and his visage looked almost as if… as if the grim reaper had ascended from hell.
And that was all he saw before his vision turned upside down.
Even as his head fell to the ground, only a single thought remained in his mind.
‘Is that what death looks like?’
The companion barely moved, his gaze discreetly landing on his friend’s body—or what was left of it. All he saw was a headless body and his companion’s lifeless head lying neatly beside it.
His blood ran cold as he saw the shadow of the enemy standing behind him. From the shadow, he could make out a long, sharp sword in the enemy’s hands. He instantly realized that it had been the sword that beheaded his friend.
His mind raced through all their enemies, but he couldn’t recall a single one who used a sword as a weapon.
The shadow was clearly a master swordsman, a demon who lived by the sword. It wasn’t the kind of brutal killing he had seen in alleyway fights. This was precision, something cold and professional. The precise cut was clean and smooth; he hadn’t even realized when his companion was cut apart. It was all too smooth to be called a brutal murder.
However, despite his companion’s death, he didn’t think of revenge. On the contrary, he thought of all the ways he could make himself useful, hoping the enemy would spare his life.
His body trembled with fear, but he tried to keep a calm mind as he heard approaching footsteps.
“Who do you serve, demon?”
“Lord Gureon.” He didn’t hesitate to give the name of his boss. If it could make the enemy hesitate, it was worth it to save his life. But he doubted the shadow would care.
The level of the lethal sword strike he had just witnessed far surpassed anything he had ever seen—completely beyond his realm of understanding.
“Who is he, demon?”
Another question came in a cold voice. The demon found it odd how the person kept addressing him as “demon,” almost as if he wasn’t one. It was understandable though; it felt like someone repeatedly addressing you as “human.”
But the demon ignored the strangeness and quickly replied, “Lord Gureon serves directly under the city lord and controls around 90% of the city’s streets. She is the third most powerful demoness in the city, and everyone respects her. No one dares to challenge her in the city…”
He mumbled the last part quietly, hoping the enemy would think twice before killing him.
But he froze when he heard a cold series of laughter. His claws trembled as the ominous sound filled his ears.
The laughter made his skin crawl. The enemy clearly didn’t care about Lord Gureon.
Why would such a terrifying being care about a demoness in the city? The thought terrified him even more.
Who could be this bold in the city?
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