Chapter 663: The Silly Son
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 663: The Silly Son
"It’s alright now."
Muen gently laid the unconscious Vik onto the ground.
The young soldier was heavily injured. Had Muen arrived even a few minutes later, he truly would have been beyond saving.
Fortunately, he was just an ordinary human. A simple magic scroll was enough to easily treat all his external wounds. As for the physical and mental exhaustion, a good night's sleep would fix that.
And yet, it was this ordinary human—someone who, in Muen’s eyes, was now incredibly frail—who had just narrowly escaped with his life from a demon camp fraught with danger.
They didn't have to walk toward death like this, and they could have escaped much more easily. If they had simply snuck past this tent, based on the intel provided by Mr. Pink, they would have reached the Empire’s Abyss Defense Line very quickly.
But they had come anyway.
"Rest easy. For now... leave everything to me."
Muen stood up. He first looked at the quiet camp nearby, then at the blood-stained trail dragged across the ground, and finally... his gaze landed on the demon standing not far away.
This demon was much taller than an average human, his body encased in armor. The skin visible through the gaps was not the crimson or azure common among low demons, but a pale white.
His appearance was remarkably human-like, though through the slits of his visor, one could vaguely see a pair of blood-red pupils overflowing with a level of brutality and ferocity no human could ever possess.
"You must be... Solin, or whatever your name was," Muen said, sizing up the demon while stroking his chin. "A legendary High-class Demon. Hmm. I’ve been wandering the Abyss for two days, and this is the first time I’ve seen a so-called High-class Demon in the flesh. You certainly look different from the low-class ones."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
Solin’s body tensed instantly. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword at his back, his armor clattering as he shifted. Until Muen had spoken, he hadn't even realized when this human had appeared.
"The name? A silly-looking demon told me," Muen said with a smile. As he flicked his fingers, it seemed as though shattered souls were wailing between his palms. "But compared to such a minor detail, what I want to ask is... don't you recognize me?"
Muen blinked in surprise and pointed to his own blonde hair.
"I thought I’d be quite famous in the Abyss by now."
According to Muen’s own deductions, if the Kingdom had indeed reached some secret agreement with the demons, then after that exchange competition, there was a high probability the Kingdom would have covertly passed his information to them.
This was something Muen had prepared for before coming here. He had even expected to receive the "protagonist treatment"—being hunted wherever he went. But now that he had finally met a demon of somewhat high status, the guy didn't even know who he was?
"You? Why should I know you?"
A mere human, yet so arrogant.
Solin frowned, feeling that the human before him was far too conceited. However, after hearing Muen’s words, he began to scrutinize him more closely.
After a moment of thought, when Solin’s gaze landed on Muen’s exceptionally conspicuous blonde hair, he finally seemed to remember something. His expression shifted to one of realization... and then shock.
"Right, I remember now... I know who you are!"
"It seems my guess was right after all." The corners of Muen’s mouth curled up into a confident, "all-according-to-plan" smile—
"You’re Campbell’s silly son!!"
Solin suddenly bellowed, "That’s right! That blonde hair—you’re definitely the Lion King’s silly son! The Demon General showed me your portrait!"
"..."
The smile on Muen’s face froze.
"Huh? Silly son?"
What the hell?
Muen was momentarily stunned.
After the previous exchange competition, shouldn't the demons' impression of him be something like 'terrifyingly powerful,' or 'this youth is a monster who must be eliminated at all costs'?
Where did "silly son" come from?
"That’s right, the silly son!"
Solin clapped his hands together, sounding certain. "Though I wasn't there personally, I watched from a distance. That Lion King used to stand before our demon army every single day, shouting about how his son scored an eighty on some exam. To be that excited over a single eighty—if that’s not a silly son, what is?"
"To think the great Lion King has a silly son, and that his silly son actually wandered into the Abyss... I suppose this is what they call destiny!"
Solin grew more excited as he spoke. The demons' greatest enemy, Lion King Lorne Campbell, was suffering the karmic retribution of having a foolish son. To many demons who hated the Lion King with a passion, this was a topic very much worth gloating over.
"..."
So that’s how it is?
Muen’s cheek twitched.
Father...
Muen slapped his forehead, sighing inwardly while wishing he could find a hole to crawl into.
He remembered that scoring an eighty on his magic exam was nearly a year ago. Yet this demon was still bringing it up. It seemed his dear Duke had shouted those embarrassing words not just once, but... quite recently.
In other words, you’ve been broadcasting this like a radio loop in front of the demon army all this time?
The thought of the Imperial and Demon armies facing off—the atmosphere solemn, killing intent piercing the heavens—only for a booming, energetic voice to echo across the Abyss, shouting, "My son got an eighty on his exam!"... Muen couldn't help but tremble with a cold fury.
It was too horrifying.
No wonder even with the Kingdom passing on information, these demons didn't think he was "monstrously powerful" or "a threat that must be eliminated." After being bombarded by the Lion King’s brainwashing "magic voice" for so long, the demon leadership aside, these brainless middle-to-low-tier demons had likely long since adopted this as a fixed stereotype.
One could only say that stereotypes were dangerous. You should never believe a word your enemy says.
Otherwise, the consequences would be severe.
"Fine."
Muen’s expression turned cold as he gave a casual wave of his hand.
"Since things have developed this way, I won't waste any more breath on you."
While he couldn't erase everyone who had witnessed his dark history, it was better to keep it out of sight and out of mind.
"Waste breath? Heh, exactly what I was thinking."
Solin’s smile also turned cruel.
He had only intended to toy with a few rats, but he hadn't expected such an accidental windfall. To think this was the Lion King’s son... if he could capture him, especially alive, it would be a massive achievement. He might even receive more rewards from the Demon General, perhaps even truly becoming...
Solin felt the noble blood within him begin to boil. His mind was already constructing ways to torture this son of the Lion King...
"Haven't you noticed yet?" Muen suddenly asked in a strange tone.
"Noticed?" Solin blinked, confused. "Noticed what?"
"Noticed..."
Muen took a step forward.
It was clearly just a single step, yet Solin felt a sudden moment of vertigo.
When his vision cleared, the Lion King’s "silly son" was already standing beside him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder like an old friend.
"...that the battle you understand has long since ended."
"Eh?"
Solin squeezed the sound out of his throat.
But he suddenly realized that even a simple syllable sounded incredibly muffled. It was as if it were caught in a broken bellows and then smothered by a thick, viscous liquid.
Because that syllable had literally been squeezed out of his "throat."
Gurgle...
Bloody bubbles rose and fell along the smooth line of his neck as his lungs struggled to pump air. Solin reached out blankly, touching the warmth at his throat.
And then.
He felt the entire world tilt.
Objects that were once small compared to his tall stature suddenly became towering. He could no longer look down on others. His cheek slammed hard into the muddy ground, yet he felt no pain.
Because the pain from other parts of his body was already enough to destroy his nerves.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the lower half of his body, from the waist down, still standing there.
The precious armor he wore had offered him no protection at all. Even the cut through the armor was perfectly smooth.
Just like when he used his own blade to slice through the flesh of those frail humans.
"Wh... Why... gurgle..."
Solin couldn't believe it. This human hadn't even drawn a weapon, yet he had been like a fish on a chopping block... deboned and butchered in an instant.
"Is it really that strange?"
Muen looked down at him, his deep azure pupils reflecting Solin’s dismembered state.
"You toy with those you deem weak like they are rats. But in the eyes of someone who views you as equally weak, are you not also just a mere rat?"
No.
Even worse than a rat.
Because even a weak rat would stake everything to struggle.
But Solin... couldn't even manage a struggle.
"...gurgle... it shouldn't... be like this..."
His vision began to dim.
Solin no longer had the strength to even lift his head. His once-haughty gaze finally fell... falling to the very bottom.
And only then did he realize.
Why the camp, which should have been garrisoned by over a hundred demons, was now so quiet. It was a silence of the grave.
Blood. So much blood.
Blood that seemed ready to dye the entire camp red. It flowed from the corpses of demons who had died without a sound, gradually mixing with his own.
As if it intended to drag him down to hell along with them.
*
"You’ve grown stronger again since last time."
Standing behind Muen was the Indra King, whose presence Solin and the other demons had failed to notice from beginning to end.
Solin and the rest hadn't been able to see Muen’s movements, but the Indra King had seen them clearly. And because of that, he could sense that Muen’s strength had seen another significant leap compared to the night of the Great Turmoil in Belland.
"When you’re fighting a cheat-code monster like Ariel, you have to improve a bit," Muen said with a shrug and a smile.
"..."
The Indra King lowered his eyes and didn't respond.
He had also silently observed that battle at the Academy. In his eyes, that girl named Ariel was indeed a little monster.
But what did that make the person who could fight such a monster to a 40-60, or even nearly a 50-50 split?