Chapter 128: The South

On this day, the Demon Realm silently changed masters. Yuan Wuzhu, the Demon Lord of the North, was dead, and Master Zhi of the Immortal-Slaying Pavilion ordered her subordinate, Wang Yili, to take his place.

Few people knew the details of how Wang Yili, in a state of utter disbelief, had nearly shouted "Long live the Master"—"nearly" because she was so choked with tears and snot that she couldn't speak.

Countless eyes turned toward the new "Demon Lord" who held the actual power behind the scenes. If this new Demon Lord wanted peace, she would have to negotiate with the South for a long time. It was a threat... but clearly, that person felt it was best to root out the threat directly.

Sure enough, the next day, before the South had even received news of the change in the North, they met with a cataclysm. Despite their rigorous defense, they were broken in a few strikes.

The strike was even more awe-inspiring than the one the people of the North had seen cleaving ten thousand mountains. They looked up, almost as if gazing at a vertical sky, ignoring the chronic ache in their necks. Instinctively, they stopped their work; even those in the midst of slaughter felt a sense of phantom-like shock.

Unprecedented emotions filled their bodies: fear, humility, excitement... and submission.

The denizens of the Demon Realm usually only saw their own small corner of the world. Due to their fierce and cruel folkways, many stayed in one place their entire lives, never venturing far. They had seen the sun, but never sang of it. Now, this sword light, which forced back the solar wheel with an aura that covered the sky, seemed to linger in their minds forever. Even from the North, people could see a second white sun appearing over the distant South.

The sword Qi was chilling, but if it had carried the moral weight of a "judgment" or "execution" like the righteous cultivators of the immortal sects, the people of the Demon Realm would never have viewed her as one of their own. If it had been tainted with the original sins of desire for power, rage, or sloth—even a drop of it—they would have merely seen her as a powerful enemy to be unseated in the future.

Yet, beneath that aura, this light was so clean it was empty, to the point that everyone was initially incredulous.

—After all, she was clearly engaged in a power grab.

She was an anomaly among the three realms, stirring the heart.

Like a god.

The deity swung a sword, devoid of sorrow or joy. Those the deity eliminated even harbored the doubt: "Do I even exist in her eyes?"

One person, one sword, swinging through the nine heavens with leisure.

Yet she did not possess a shred of ethereal grace or casualness. Rather than being free and easy, she was more like frost and snow, glancing at you lightly without ever noticing your shadow.

As time passed, the entire land echoed with earth-shattering roars. The sun lost its luster, its divine throne usurped by a brighter light; the gold fled, leaving only white beneath the firmament.

"—"

At the edge of the Southern Realm, a person stared dazed at the commotion in the distance. Even as the intense light stung his eyes and forced tears to flow, he refused to turn away. He opened his mouth but found he could make no sound to disturb this "miracle."

Around him stood a group of plainly dressed people who had emerged from their houses, appearing like the common subjects seen everywhere in the Demon Realm.

Only appearing so.

The hems of their robes bore red markings like flames. Within the houses, faint laughter echoed from beneath the floorboards. Several sacrificed followers had already bled out in the darkness, closing their eyes joyfully to sleep forever with this crude dwelling.

"...What a pity," a woman whispered, staring straight at the unextinguished white light.

The others remained silent. They knew what she pitied. She pitied those cultists in the basement who thought they had gained everything; they had died too early to see this sight that washed away the world.

Yes, while the ignorant in the Demon Realm were prone to forming wrong perceptions, those perceptions were born of their sincere and true will. Thus, this feeling of being unable to approach, unable to form a thought, and unable to harbor the slightest intent of transgression was called "willing submission" by this group of evil cultists who worshipped darkness daily.

Do not underestimate any hidden faction in the Demon Realm. Every gathered force has eyes like hyenas, sharp and fixated. It is best not to become carrion in their eyes; even the strong occasionally die from a neglected fishbone.

"We need to investigate."

The territory of the Southern Demon Lord was truly massive. This Demon Lord seemed to have a particular fondness for expanding the range of his "home," causing Zora to spend quite some time during the destruction.

Naturally, she was unaware of the impact this had. The prolonged duration of the attack, combined with the fact that the Southern Demon Lord’s territory wasn't floating but distributed in the center of the South, meant anyone could see it.

Perhaps even if she knew, she wouldn't care.

Zora destroyed almost half of the Southern territory—because that Demon Lord’s palaces covered half the South. Some of the Pavilion Master’s subordinates seriously suspected the Southern Demon Lord usually had to fly just to get around his house. A small portion of the populace was taken into the palace for labor, but the majority lived outside, their houses built so densely they were squeezed together, leaving little wasteland.

Clearly, the subjects here were cramped by their own Demon Lord; the moment they stepped out, they were like sardines flowing into a river.

He Songning initially had nowhere to set his feet. Waiting outside the battlefield for Zora to finish, he noticed Vane standing beside him, completely unaffected by the crowding. Primarily, the masses had a premonition that they would be injured if they got too close; a sixth sense prompted them to leave a space around him, fearing they would provoke him.

Vane was observing the surroundings. The commoners living here had poured out of their homes, all looking toward the site of the explosions. He captured an abnormal, subtle excitement and frenzy in some of their eyes, their breathing slightly quickened, their faces heating up and turning red.

The entire alley was exceptionally quiet; no one moved. Despite the crowding, everyone had a place to stand. He Songning sensed an unusual atmosphere and remained silent. He looked at Vane, only to see the youth slowly narrow his eyes and reveal a tiny smile.

He Songning: "..."

He wasn't stupid. He could sense the different vibe from the Southern people. On the surface, they were like any other denizens of the Demon Realm, but there was an underlying difference. The current silence was bone-chilling.

"..." He Songning slowly exhaled.

This Demon Realm was strange everywhere, yet not so strange. In fact, he was now realizing Zora’s extraordinary aura more vividly than he had in the North. Many people might not be able to imagine what "stunning" truly meant; in truth, a person of power who truly fits one's ideals can command belief the moment they are met.

The alley where He Songning stood was close to the palace. The walls surrounding the vast structures had long since half-collapsed, revealing the massive scale and former glory of the interior.

A moment later, the victor was decided. The head of the Southern Demon Lord was kicked out of the palace gates, rolling to the feet of a silent commoner. That commoner looked down, as if confirming something, and immediately knelt.

This acted as a signal. Nearly sixty percent of the people knelt on both knees at the same moment. There were millions in the South, and now millions bowed their backs and knees.

Around He Songning, some knelt, while others did not. Perhaps this was a surrender to a new king. Vane looked at those who knelt, and then at those who didn't.

He Songning: "So, now we..."

Vane: "Naturally, we go to welcome the Demon Lord."

He Songning: "...Right."

You changed the title so fast.

He Songning’s lip twitched.

They took to the air, followed by a group of subordinates. Upon reaching the palace, He Songning breathed a sigh of relief, only to see Zora pondering something amidst the ruins. Her thinking expression was identical to when she was solving problems back at the sect.

Zora looked down at her palm. While fighting the Demon Lord and his subordinates just now, she had sensed something. Their power manifested strangely. If one didn't look closely, it seemed no different from demonic Qi, but unfortunately, they were too weak; Zora was forced to notice the deeper surges in that power.

"Mhm..." Zora thought for a moment.

Could it be related to the evil spirits?

"Master... Zhi," He Songning paused, changing the address, inside a hall where the roof had a massive hole. "What now? Do we find someone to take the place again?"

He wanted to subtly suggest that the South was different from the North. If they put up a puppet whom the masses didn't respect, that puppet might meet a cataclysm the moment Zora left. After all, in the commoner areas outside, he had truly felt the abnormality of the people on this land.

Zora glanced at He Songning, then at Vane. The youth with the ponytail gave her a slight smile.

Zora turned back to He Songning and said, "You stay here."

"Oh... ah?" He Songning was stunned for a moment, his eyes widening. "Wh-what?! I’m to be the Demon Lord?"

"Yes. I don't like it here." Zora looked around; there wasn't a trace of the evil spirits. But the sensation during the battle hadn't been an illusion. Even if she were to investigate, she shouldn't do it as the Demon Lord; the target would be too large.

Besides... being a Demon Lord involves a lot of work, especially since this place was just broken and was a mess. Mhm... and investigation isn't exactly mandatory; they'll appear eventually anyway.

Zora thought to herself. By then, Vane had already stepped forward to stand by her side. She tugged at his slightly messy hair ribbon, watching his face with downcast eyes as she thought, like looking at a beautiful, satisfactory doll.

He Songning was dumbfounded. He, a sword cultivator of the immortal realm, usually the picture of impartial justice, was now going to become a Demon Lord! ...Oh, a puppet.

He stammered: "N-no, I-I definitely can't do it!"

Zora didn't pay any mind to his refusal. Hearing this, she turned toward the servants who were waiting quietly after clearing the bodies. She pointed randomly at one: "Mhm... then you—"

"Wait! I'll do it, I'll do it!" He Songning interrupted hastily. He watched as that demon's eyes went from glowing with light to suppressing resentment, bowing his head submissively.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief. After all, he knew the nature of the servants here. If she truly put that person on the throne, even if they couldn't escape Zora’s control, they would surely harm many more people. If it had to be someone... let it be him!

"Then you must sign a contract," Zora said flatly, glancing at Vane. The youth produced a contract and smiled: "If you please."

He Songning: "..."

Meeting Zora’s clear amber eyes, he suddenly broke into a cold sweat, truly realizing where he was. This was the Demon Realm, and his Junior Sister—perhaps "Senior Brother" was merely a word she said casually—was already one of the top figures here.

In the past, she didn't care about him. Now that she truly looked at him, if he didn't meet her standard for being "harmless," she had to have a layer of insurance. He took the contract and found the contents weren't cruel; they all revolved around Zora’s safety.

It wasn't that he couldn't betray the Demon Realm, but that he couldn't betray Zora. It wasn't that he couldn't harm the people of the Pavilion, but that he couldn't harm Zora. Not even the thought was allowed.

There was a time limit, however: ten years.

He signed it. Not out of force, but conversely, out of deep consideration. The Demon Realm had ostensibly fallen into Zora’s hands, and He Songning knew she wasn't a person who loved slaughter, nor was she someone easily deceived or enticed. In the cultivation world, she might have needed time and methods to win people over, but in the twisted and violent Demon Realm, she was the best guide.

Zora glanced at the contract, and the old paper turned into stardust, dissipating into the world. The contract was established.

One month later.

The Demon Realm was eerily stable.

The governance of the North was proceeding systematically, while the South remained the same; the populace here seemingly needed no change. Anyone who mattered knew that the Demon Realm was almost entirely unified, as the North and South were now considered one entity. The Demon Lords were no longer the Demon Lords of the past, and there was someone who existed above them. Some called her the Demon Sovereign, but some still called her Pavilion Master.

While He Songning was working himself to death in the South, he encountered countless assassination attempts. To the point where a large crowd of commoners gathered at the newly repaired palace gates, roaring that they needed a master who had truly defeated the Southern Demon Lord, not an incompetent fool.

He "Incompetent Fool" Songning: "..."

I'm working like a dog every day; if you can get Zora to do this much for you, I'll admit defeat.

In the end, it all came to nothing.

He Songning was very worried. When Vane came to investigate as Zora's eyes, he asked a question.

Vane: "Understood. I will pass the message to her."

He Songning: "And how do you think Zora will react?"

Vane only smiled without speaking.

He Songning: "..."

Fine, I get it.

For the ten-thousandth time, he told himself that the crowd at the gates wasn't the same as the commoners a human emperor managed. They were truly base thugs. In handling affairs, he clearly realized the difference between the Demon Realm and the human or immortal realms. This South was truly... too strange. His sixth sense had warned him from the start. He had never touched the actual power of a ruler—like meddling in any affair of the Southern demons—but the palace interior itself was enough to keep him running in circles.

Vane returned to the Pavilion and recounted the events impartially. Zora gave an "oh," not caring at all. In her view, the Demon Realm's conclusion that the strong rule was correct; that was how she got there. So how could she be coerced by a group of people with insufficient strength?

As for the moral constraints of a ruler? The Demon Realm simply didn't have such a thing. A human emperor needed to be mindful of filial piety, fearing the insults of all scholars under heaven, while the Demon Realm was the complete opposite.

"Also, He Songning seems worried that those people will cause trouble and declare themselves kings."

Zora: "Then let them declare it themselves. Kill those who want to harm the Pavilion. If they simply want to break away, then whatever."

The Demon Realm was not the human realm. A Demon Lord's existence for so many years was actually less about governance and more about "deterrence" and "protection." Breaking away was fine, but if they were eaten alive by the hyenas roaming outside, it wasn't the Demon Lord's fault. The Demon Lord wouldn't feel offended and wouldn't act at all; naturally, the protection of deterrence would be gone.

There was orange juice on her hand. Before she could wipe it, a soft warmth licked it clean bit by bit. Zora looked down. The youth kneeling on one knee had just withdrawn his tongue, his face—becoming increasingly eye-catching—filled with a smile. His deep black eyes curved slightly, melting his sharp edges; his features were like ripples on water, spreading a cloud that made one daze.

Zora felt her finger was wet. she looked at her hand. In the next instant, Vane produced the softest handkerchief and wiped it clean again.

Zora: "What's the point of that?"

Licking it just to wipe it again?

"Because the obstacles in the Demon Realm have mostly been removed."

So?

Zora tilted her head.

Vane kissed her fingertip again, a soft touch.

"Lately, you've been constantly dealing with those ants. Your gaze doesn't stay on me for long."

As he spoke, he didn't leave her fingertip. As he opened his mouth, Zora occasionally touched the moist red inside his lips, feeling the movement of the lips and the warm breath when he spoke. She looked over naturally. After a moment, she realized this was likely the first time she had clearly seen the shape of his lips. She had known his appearance, but Zora never looked closely at a person's features unless she was bored.

It was as if the youth were enticing her to discover parts of him, showing them to her so her gaze would stay there and find something new.

The youth said: "I'm a little lonely, as a lover."

If he were an ordinary person, she would know he was acting spoiled, but Zora only thought this was a perfectly serious self-report. Thus, she handled it seriously.

Zora: "What do you need me to do?"

Vane: "The North and South have transitioned smoothly. I've finished all the Pavilion's affairs. There are no major threats in the Demon Realm currently. You don't want to be constantly bothered, and you don't care about others anyway."

"...So," he said softly, "spend a few days with me—just the two of us, no third living creature needed."

Zora was very precise: "How many days is 'a few days'?"

Vane smiled, as if he had known she would ask.

"Until you say stop."