The Molten Demon King's voice held three parts shock and anger, three parts grievance, and four parts fear—a fear he was unwilling to admit even to himself.
Loren did not answer. He simply walked calmly into the cultivation room, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings before finally landing on the massive throne crafted from molten crystals.
He walked to the throne and sat down as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I was passing by, so I thought I’d check in on you.”
Gromheart's face twitched violently.
Passing by? His Molten City was surrounded for a thousand miles by active volcanoes and lava lakes; even demons were reluctant to come here.
You, a human sword saint living in the Northern Ice Field, are “passing by” here?
“Have you found your disciple?” Gromheart asked tentatively, suppressing his rage.
“No.”
“In fact, since I haven't found him, I came to find you,” Loren said matter-of-factly.
“If it weren't for you all, my disciple wouldn't have been scared away.”
Loren leaned back against the molten crystal throne, his slender fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
The rhythm was steady and slow, yet every tap landed precisely on the beat of Gromheart's heartbeat.
“You... what exactly do you want?” Gromheart's voice had unconsciously dropped an octave.
“Have you found my disciple?”
The corners of Gromheart's mouth twitched violently.
“You can't find your own disciple, so you come to ask me? I'm not his master!”
“Haven't you sent people to look for him?” Loren's purple eyes looked at him calmly.
“In this past month, how many people have the four of you sent out? You've probably turned over every demon territory, even those outside your own domains.”
Gromheart's voice came to an abrupt halt.
He had indeed sent people, as had the other three Demon Kings.
Not out of the goodness of their hearts, but because this sword saint had been “passing by” their territories every few days for the past month.
Every time he “passed by,” he would insist on “sparring” with them.
It was called sparring, but in reality, it was a one-sided beating.
After the beating, the sword saint would earnestly point out the flaws in their swordsmanship and combat techniques, leave a “see you next time,” and then drift away.
The most hateful part was that they didn't dare to turn hostile.
They knew very well that Loren hadn't killed them not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to.
This human sword saint's background had been thoroughly investigated.
Although he was ridiculously strong, he didn't belong to any faction.
The human kingdoms had nothing to do with him, the demon territories had nothing to do with him, and even the Temple, the Demon God Church, and the secret cults had no connection to him.
If the four Demon Kings of the West fell, the demon forces would inevitably weaken.
At that time, the Temple of the human kingdoms and the allied forces of various nations would seize the opportunity, and a large portion of the demon territories would likely fall.
That would trigger a massive war, leading to countless deaths.
Although Loren was human, he did not participate in racial wars and certainly didn't want to cause an unnecessary war because of his own actions.
Thus, he would not actively influence the balance of power between the two races, avoiding any side becoming too dominant.
Furthermore, if the four Demon Kings joined forces to trap and kill Loren, even if they could win, they would have to pay the price of at least two Demon Kings falling.
If they couldn't win, the four of them would truly be erased from demon history.
Taking a step back, even if they did kill him, his disciple would surely grow up and come for revenge.
When that time came, none of the four Demon Kings would survive.
The four Demon Kings knew this perfectly well.
So they could only endure.
While enduring, they sent people to search for that human youth who had been teleported to some unknown corner.
They only hoped to find the person quickly and send the jinx's disciple back, so the sword saint would hurry back to his Frostspeak Peak.
“Have you found him?” Loren asked again, his tone still calm.
“No,” Gromheart said sullenly.
“The demon territories have been searched thoroughly, but there's no trace of your disciple. He might not be in the demon territories at all, or he might have already left this continent.”
Loren was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.
“I see.”
He stood up and walked toward the exit.
Gromheart breathed a sigh of relief.
But as Loren reached the door, he suddenly stopped.
“It's been a while since I've stretched my muscles.”
He turned around, his purple eyes looking at Gromheart calmly.
“Want to practice with me?”
Gromheart's face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver.
Again.
The third time this month!
“Loren!!!”
The Molten Demon King's roar erupted from the cultivation room, shaking all of Molten City.
The guards at the door looked at each other, then moved a dozen steps away in unison.
Fifteen minutes later, Loren walked out of the cultivation room.
He was still in his ice-blue robes, pristine and unstained, his long hair falling like a waterfall and his purple eyes tranquil.
Inside the cultivation room behind him, Gromheart was slumped by the lava pool. Most of his scales were shattered, and dark red blood seeped from countless tiny sword wounds, dripping into the lava with a sizzling sound.
His injuries weren't heavy—just superficial wounds.
But every part of his body hurt.
This was Loren's “sparring.”
Every strike was precisely controlled to only wound the flesh without touching the bone, leaving one grimacing in pain but not even needing time to recover, able to be active again the next day.
But because of this, it was even more maddening.
Because he was telling you clearly:
I can kill you, I just don't want to.
“Your axe technique has improved since last time,” Loren said without looking back.
“But when you exert force with your right hand, the scales on your shoulder blade stiffen for a split second. Fix that flaw, and your power will increase.”
After speaking, his figure dissipated into the air like a wisp of ice mist.
Gromheart lay slumped by the lava pool, gasping for breath, his crimson-gold eyes full of grievance.
“Next time... next time I definitely will...”
He wanted to throw out some harsh words, but when they reached his lips, he found he had nothing to say.
If you can't win, you can't win.
And the man was even giving him pointers.
Though the method was a bit rough, those pointers were indeed sharp and to the point.
Gromheart was silent for a long time before finally letting out a long sigh.
“Someone, come here,” he called out weakly.
A guard walked in tremulously.
“Go, send more people. If you can't find him in the demon territories, go to the human kingdoms. If you can't find him in the human kingdoms, look overseas. You must find that damned human youth for me!”
“Yes!”
The guard felt as if he had been granted a pardon and turned to run.
“Wait!”
The guard was halfway out when he ran back tremulously.
“If you find him, you must treat him with the utmost respect! Don't scare him again!”
Gromheart slumped back by the lava pool, looking at the fine cracks on the ceiling carved by sword qi, a deep sense of powerlessness rising in his heart.
“When... when will this ever end...”
...
Meanwhile, in the territory of the Frostbone Demon King, Modlein.
This was a snowfield eternally frozen in ice, where ancient glaciers lay across the land like the skeletons of giant dragons.
Deep within the Frostbone Castle, the Frostbone Demon King sat on his throne, a cup of wine brewed from myriad-year cold spring water by his side.
He had already heard the news that Loren had “visited” the Molten Demon King again.
“The third time this month,” he muttered to himself, a trace of helplessness flashing in his ice-blue eyes.
“Gromheart is truly unlucky.”
As soon as he finished speaking, an ice-blue figure appeared silently before his throne.
Loren was still in his ice-blue robes, his purple eyes calm.
“It's your turn.”
The wine cup in the Frostbone Demon King's hand trembled slightly, and a few drops of cold spring wine spilled onto the ice crystal floor, instantly freezing into ice beads.
He was silent for a moment, then set down the wine cup and stood up.
“Let's go.”
He had accepted his fate.
A moment later, violent energy fluctuations erupted from the depths of Frostbone Castle.
The guards didn't even blink; they even began to silently time the encounter.
This was the fourth time this month; they were already used to it.
In the other two directions of the demon territory, the Blood Pupil Demon King Karthus and the Shadow Demon King Zepher received the news at almost the same time that Loren was “visiting” the Frostbone Demon King.
Both breathed a sigh of relief in unison, then simultaneously showed complex expressions.
You can escape today, but you can't escape tomorrow.
Sooner or later, it would be their turn.
When will this ever end...
The exact same thought rose in the hearts of the four Demon Kings.
“Find that human youth! At any cost!”
Similar orders were issued by the four Demon Kings simultaneously.
Countless scouts poured out of the demon territories like a tide, spreading toward the human kingdoms, the overseas islands, and any place where a person might hide.
...
Meanwhile, the human youth being frantically sought by the four 9th-rank Demon Kings was sitting cross-legged in a guest room of a manor in the Silver Moon Kingdom.
He held a basic Elvish grammar book, his brow slightly furrowed as he memorized the complex rules of word declension.
Outside the window, the moonlight was like water.
Little Black was curled up on the windowsill cushion, sleeping soundly.
In the manor's garden, Elune stood alone before the patch of moonlight roses, her silver-purple hair fluttering gently in the night breeze.
She looked up at the window on the second floor where a light was shining.
The light was still on.
That human youth hadn't gone to sleep yet.
Every night, he sat cross-legged on the bed with his eyes closed to cultivate, staying there all night.
During the day, he was still full of energy, showing no sign of fatigue.
“What an odd person,” she murmured to herself, the corners of her lips curling upward slightly.
Then she turned and walked back to the main house.
In the hallway, Alice was leaning against the wall with a meaningful smile on her face.
“My Lady, were you looking at him again?”
A flush of red instantly spread to the tips of Elune's ears.
“I was just... just passing by.”
“Passing by?” Alice's smile deepened. “My Lady, your room is to the east, and Mr. Matthew's room is to the west. How did you manage to 'pass by' the west side when coming back from the garden?”
Elune's face turned completely red.
She lowered her head and quickened her pace, almost fleeing through the hallway back to her room.
Behind her, Alice's soft laughter echoed in the corridor.
In the room, Jiang Lin closed the grammar book, shut his eyes, and sank his mind into his body.
His 4th-rank early stage realm had been completely stabilized.
Holy Light magic, ice soul power, and blood-colored energy formed a perfect cycle within his body.
But there was still some distance to the 4th-rank mid-stage. At his current cultivation speed, it would take about another month.
Advancing a minor stage in a month was a speed ordinary adventurers wouldn't even dare to dream of.
But for Jiang Lin, who was used to soaring like a rocket, this speed was indeed a bit lackluster.
Pulling back his thoughts, his gaze fell on the Elvish grammar book on the desk.
Elune's handwriting was delicate and neat, and there were small annotations she had drawn in pale purple ink next to it.
A crescent moon, with the Elvish word for “Silver Moon” written beside it, along with a small smiley face.
This elven girl was indeed quite cute.
He withdrew his gaze, closed his eyes again, and continued his breathing technique.
The next morning, Jiang Lin opened his eyes right on time.
The sky outside was just beginning to turn the color of a fish's belly, and the elven servants in the manor had already started their day's work. The faint sounds of pruning branches came from the garden, and in the distance, the kitchen chimney emitted curls of smoke, carrying the scent of toasted bread and flower tea.
He stood up, stretched his muscles, then picked up the Elvish grammar book and flipped to the part he hadn't finished yesterday, continuing to memorize.
Little Black was woken by his movement and looked up from the windowsill cushion, its amber cat eyes half-open.
“Aren't you going to sleep again?”
“Have you ever seen me sleep?”
Little Black thought about it. Indeed, since it had met this kid, it had never seen him sleep.
It rolled its eyes and curled back into a ball to continue sleeping.
As the sky grew brighter, familiar footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Jiang Lin closed the grammar book and got up to open the door.
Outside, Alice was carrying a tray with fresh breakfast. Seeing that Jiang Lin was already fully dressed, a flash of surprise crossed her eyes.
“Mr. Matthew, you're up early.”
She spoke in slow, clear Elvish.
“I'm used to it,” Jiang Lin replied in Elvish, his pronunciation even more standard than yesterday.
Alice's eyes lit up.
“Your Elvish is improving so quickly.”
“The teacher taught well.”
Alice giggled behind her hand and handed him the tray.
“My Lady is already in the dining room and asked me to see if you were awake. Since you're up, why not head downstairs for breakfast?”
Jiang Lin nodded and followed her downstairs.
In the dining room, Elune was already seated at the head of the table.
Today, she wore a pale green dress, her silver-purple hair braided into a loose side braid draped over her chest, with a fresh moonlight rose tied to the end.
Seeing Jiang Lin walk in, her eyes lit up slightly before she quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in cutting the fruit on her plate.
“Morning.”
Jiang Lin sat to her right.
“Morning...”
Elune's voice was very soft, almost inaudible.
Alice silently sat to Elune's left and began her breakfast, acting as if she hadn't seen a thing.
Breakfast was hearty.
Freshly baked bread, honey, jam, fruit, flower tea, and several plates of elven specialty pastries.
Jiang Lin ate silently, occasionally asking about the usage of a word or two in Elvish. Elune would answer seriously, then lower her head to continue cutting the fruit on her plate.
Throughout the meal, the fruit on her plate was cut into countless tiny pieces, but she barely ate any of it.
After breakfast, Jiang Lin stood up.
“Today I'm going to check out the Adventurers Guild.”
Elune stood up as well.
“I'll go with you.”
Rate on N.U.
