The Demon King's First General
Chapter 78: I Destroyed It

Chapter 78: I Destroyed It

Kizeler dropped his jaw as he saw the trunk cleanly cut in half. It turned into a fine marble in just a single swing.

"That’s ridiculous," he uttered, stupefied. "Can I do that too?"

Then he looked at his finger and tried to gather his energy on its tip, but it dissipated as soon as it left his body.

However, he wasn’t disheartened to see himself fail. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Seconds later, his fist was covered with refined energy.

’I can envelope my body like I usually do,’ he thought.

Then, as he tried to emit more energy into the air, it vanished like he expected.

"But I can’t make a shape out of it, much less a sword," he uttered as he opened his eyes and looked back at the demon.

"Can you show it one more time?" He asked.

Zeno chuckled upon seeing the curiosity painted on his face. Then he raised his hand and moved it back and forth, gesturing for Kizeler to come.

"You must discover it yourself; I’m not so generous to teach others," the demon said.

With his blade now broken, Kizeler stood up and prepared his fist to attack Zeno. He charged into him and aimed a punch into his abdomen, but the demon parried his attack before pulling him to send him at his back.

The human dove straight with his face into the snow, and then he heard laughter loud enough to irritate him.

"This is boring," Zeno said, provoking the human, then he moved his head sideward to dodge a punch coming from behind him.

Kizeler bombarded him with different attacks aimed at his back but none of them hit his body. They were all dodged by Zeno’s breathtaking reflexes.

"Let’s end this," he uttered as he turned around and caught Kizeler’s arm.

The next second, Kizeler found himself flying mid-air away; his body was hurled like a catapult the moment Zeno threw him up. He landed several meters away with his back, sinking in the thick pile of snow.

"You activated your left eye, yet you did not use it; why?" Zeno asked as soon as he walked in the human’s direction.

"It’s pointless to use it against you," Kizeler replied.

Then he stood up and shrugged the snow particles from his clothes.

’Besides, just looking at those lifeless eyes of yours sends shivers down my body,’ he conveyed inside his head, afraid to offend the demon if he blurted his words out.

"Now? What are we going to do next?" He asked upon seeing that the demon was staring at the sky and deep in his thoughts.

"Aside from sleeping, you really do love to stare at the sun," Kizeler commented.

Afterward, he took a glance at the ball of light, but just after a second, he averted his eyes. Its extreme luminance made his eyes hurt like they were burning.

"Did you know that there were two suns before?" Zeno said all of a sudden.

"What happened to the other one then?" Kizeler answered, curious to hear what the demon would tell him.

In fact, since the time Zeno told him about what kind of demon he was, he had developed a manner of listening to his every word, craving new knowledge that was unknown to him.

However, this time, he believed that the demon’s statement sounded implausible. He had lived for twenty-three years without a single instance where someone told him that there were two suns before, but still, he waited for the demon’s reply.

"I destroyed it," Zeno uttered with a straight face, then he looked towards Kizeler and smiled.

"The sky was too bright that time, and I could not sleep at all, so I made it explode into pieces," he added.

His answer almost threw Kizeler off balance; it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard in his entire existence.

"And now you’re regretting what you did, so you were punishing yourself by staring at it; is that what you’re trying to say?" He replied, then walked towards his broken sword.

"I know you’re powerful, but I’m not that stupid to believe such a blatant lie," he whispered as soon as he passed the demon’s position.

Zeno laughed at Kizeler’s remark and directed his gaze back into the sun.

"You’re right; you’re not that stupid because you’re a pathetic fool," he said before leaping into one of the tree branches to take a nap.

Upon hearing the demon, Kizeler chose to ignore what he had said and proceeded to pick up his broken blade.

’Trix will be mad once she sees the state of her sword,’ he thought.

The next second, he went into the monster’s corpses he had killed earlier and began butchering them. He needed their thick fur to validate his completion of the task.

While doing it, he tried to imitate the thing that the silver-haired demon showed him a few moments ago. He channeled his energy into the blade, hoping for it to extend and regain its previous form, but it also turned into a failure. His energy just coated the broken sword, and nothing happened afterward.

"It will take me forever to learn this thing," he uttered, and he resumed separating the fur of the monsters.

It took him a few hours to finish the task at hand. Then he glanced towards the demon sleeping soundly at the top of the tree.

"Should we head back now?" He yelled, but he received no answer.

So he searched for an area with less snow and took a rest while waiting for Zeno to move.

After several minutes of lying down, in the far distance, he spotted a party of five people walking in their direction. It alerted him, and as soon as they came closer, he sat up before preparing himself to attack.

Attacking another mercenary was a common phenomenon during a mission, and the number one reason for that was to steal the loot of the other party.

’Two warriors, an archer, a mage, and a healer. Typical team,’ he thought.

Then he stood up and glanced at the rolled bear fur on his side.

"I hope they’re not here for trouble," he uttered.

. . . . .

Above the sky of the Duskstalker Kingdom, a blue wyvern dove straight into the vicinity of the huge castle. It was daytime, yet the above scenery was still as dark as night.

A woman jumped from the creature’s back, and she patted its head before she started walking at the entrance leading to a huge door.

The place was filled with knights and their heads were protected with helmets that covered the entirety of their faces. Even their eyes were nowhere to be seen in the two small holes in the protective gear.

’This castle is always creeping me out,’ the woman thought as she walked along with the wyvern in the corridor.

Afterward, a black smoke came to greet her, and it transformed into a man wearing a black onyx crown and a dark brown cape with a featherlike design. His serpentine eyes stared at the woman for a few seconds before he spoke.

"Did you meet him?" He asked with a straight face.

The woman smiled and answered. "Oh yes, and your dog is dead."

"I know, a mere clone would not stand a chance against that General." He nodded, then a grin curled at the corner of his lips.

"I’m more surprised that you managed to return in one piece," he added.

Upon hearing his comment, the woman chuckled and resumed her walk.

"Maybe he was in a good mood when I met him, or he fell for my beauty," she replied as soon as she passed the man.

Then, after reaching a few meters, she looked back and called out the man’s name.

"Strannard," She said.

And as soon as the man heard her, he turned around and waited for what she was about to say.

"Do not dare bother me in my room, but please do when Celestine arrives," she stated, then continued to walk away.

Strannard was left there, staring at the woman’s denim-colored hair that was swaying at her back. Then he went toward the window and looked at the dark sky.

’They have the same level of interest when it comes to that woman, though the opposite. One is treasuring her like a family while the other despises her existence for taking away her sister’s attention,’ Strannard thought, and he soon turned into a black smoke and moved deeper inside the castle.

. . . . .

At the same time, in the largest prison underneath the empire, where most of the vicious, captured criminals spent the rest of their lives.

There was a prison cell, unique among all. It was nonidentical from all the chambers inside. Others had basic necessities for living, but that one cell had nothing aside from the demon detained in the place; his arms and feet were crucified in a pillar with sharp blades protruding on its surface, causing them to pierce his whole body.

The room was more like a torture chamber than a prison cell; splashes of blood tainted its flooring and walls, while the foul stench coming from the mixtures of sweat and wounds lingered in the air.

However, despite these harsh conditions, the knights stationed at the prison were still diligent in their duty to guard the chamber.

Then the neverending silence broke as the demon lifted his head; his eyes were blindfolded, and there was a single horn protruding from his right temple. He gazed at the knights standing outside the rebars and whispered with his lips covered with cuts and bruises.

"N-no, Young Lady, d-do not come here," he said, stuttering.

. . . . .