Northern Ze Plains.
City of the Bond.
A Silver-armored Maiden wearing the Saint’s Mask stood atop the city walls, her features obscured, but the Sword Intent she radiated was visible to the naked eye.
She was the Hero of the Thirty-Fourth Generation, the Sword of the Bright Moon, currently leading hundreds of thousands of Elite Human Knights to defend this place.
Suddenly, dark clouds pressed down, the sky and earth losing their color.
Twisted and terrifying Demonic Beasts spread across the horizon like a flood, and at their forefront stood a towering Black-armored Giant Knight several meters tall, as if the apocalypse itself had arrived.
It was none other than the notorious Northern Demon King—the Crimson Dragon Archdemon King—descending upon the mortal realm.
Legend had it that his true form was the mightiest of the Ancient Dragon Clan.
If the Silver-armored Maiden failed to hold Phoenix City, the Demonkind would sweep through unchallenged, and the Human Race would know no peace again.
The great battle was about to erupt!
But it ended just as quickly…
The Heroine and the Crimson Dragon Archdemon King clashed fiercely on the city walls, but in the end, the Demon King proved one step ahead.
“Crack!”
A crisp sound rang out.
After only a few exchanges, the Maiden’s Mass-Produced Hero Sword was cleaved in two by the Demon King’s Demon Sword, and a blade pierced her chest, blood spraying as she was cut down from the wall.
Fortunately, her comrades fought valiantly alongside the Elite Human Knights, risking everything to cover her retreat and successfully rescue the Heroine.
Though the Northern Demon King had singlehandedly defeated the Heroine, the Demonic Beasts he brought were nothing but weaklings, failing to breach even the city gates after a prolonged siege.
Despite the Heroine’s shortcomings, her allies were outstanding!
After a brutal day and night of fighting, they managed to hold Phoenix City.
In the end, the Northern Demon King had no choice but to retreat.
—————
“Abbas! Come over here and review this! What on earth were you doing out there?”
Back at the Demon King’s Castle, barely had anyone settled when the Northern Demon King’s Four Heavenly Kings started blaming each other.
“Why didn’t you attack? How could I attack? I was surrounded!”
“The Heroine was weak, the real strength was in her allies.”
“Northern Demon King, you made the wrong choice. You shouldn’t have focused on the Heroine; you should’ve dealt with her allies first.”
“You’re the Vanguard Unit! Why did you just watch from the back instead of assaulting the city?”
“I couldn’t get in! How was I supposed to siege? Should I just bash my head against the wall?”
“You’re the Armored Demon! You expect me, a Succubus, to crash into the gate instead?”
The Northern Demon King’s subordinates began shouting insults and passing the blame wildly.
“…”
Seated on the Skull Throne, the Northern Demon King looked down at the chaotic scene below in the Demon King’s Hall, silent for a long moment.
As for his appearance, he stood over three meters tall, clad in oversized black armor covered with spikes, his true face hidden behind a helmet whose slits glowed with two piercing red lights.
He looked the part of a Demon King, yet strangely ordinary and unremarkable.
No—there was one feature that stood out.
His right hand was bound to a grotesquely shaped, blood-soaked greatsword.
Its decayed blade wriggled with flesh, the guard made of unspeakable chaotic creatures from which dozens of thick tentacles extended, connecting directly to the Demon King’s arm, constantly draining his blood to sustain itself.
This sword was the infamous Slayer Demon Sword Phoenix.
The Crimson Dragon Clan had dominated the Demon Realm for generations thanks to this heirloom weapon.
Each generation’s youngest, strongest, and most talented member was bound by a Coexistence Pact with the sword at birth, pledging blood and gaining overwhelming, unmatched power.
Because the Slayer Demon Sword had an invincible passive skill: the Anti-Demon Skill, making it especially deadly against their own kind.
Of course, it was also very effective against outsiders, having just cut down a Heroine like she was a chicken.
“Silence.” The Northern Demon King finally snapped, his voice cold and sharp.
Over a hundred high-ranking Demonic Beings in the Demon King’s Hall fell silent instantly, waiting for their lord’s words.
But the Northern Demon King knew he couldn’t command respect without explanation.
Being a Demon King was more than just having power; it was a tough seat to hold.
Because eighty percent of the Demons beneath him were bloodthirsty lunatics with no brains or reason, and they never understood what unity meant.
He stood and slowly raised the Slayer Demon Sword.
All the high-ranking Demons stepped back in fear, their eyes wide with terror.
They might not fear the Demon King himself, but they certainly feared this sword.
“What are you trying to do, Crimson Dragon?” one shouted.
At that moment, a huge eye opened on the chaotic guard of the Slayer Demon Sword, emitting a harsh, chaotic voice inside the Demon King’s mind.
“Demon Sword, our bond ends here. Today, before all the Demonkind’s great powers, I sever your control over me.” The Demon King’s helmet emitted a hoarse, ruthless response.
“Haha! Your clan has been my host for ten thousand years! How do you expect to break free?” the sword laughed loudly.
“I am no ordinary Crimson Dragon. I have found your weakness.” Suddenly, the Northern Demon King’s right arm blazed with crimson fire, burning and severing the tentacles that had been draining his blood day and night.
“Dragon Breath? How could a Crimson Dragon grasp magic?” the sword gasped.
“We Crimson Dragons possess the strongest physical bodies of the Evil Dragon bloodline but cannot use magic or Dragon Breath. You took advantage of this to parasitize us. But I am a mutant—I have broken boundaries and mastered Dragon Flame. To deceive you, I bore humiliation and obeyed your commands for decades. But now, I have finally grasped the art to purge you from within me.” The Northern Demon King smiled coldly.
His years of suffering found release in this moment.
Who would want a grotesque parasite attached to their right hand from birth?
“Ugh… You can’t do this… I have loyally served your clan for ten thousand years…” the sword stammered.
“You are a curse—a ten-thousand-year curse—but from this moment, your reign ends.” The Demon King snarled, “Seal Release Spell: Scorching Root.”
In an instant, intense Dragon Flame gathered on the Northern Demon King’s right hand, the black gauntlet glowing fiery red as he gripped the sword’s hilt and squeezed hard.
“Crack!”
A crisp snap sounded as the sword’s hilt shattered, the tentacles all severed.
The massive blade clattered to the ground; its chaotic flesh lifeless, turning to blackened ash—now nothing more than scrap metal.
“Drag it out and throw it away!”
The Northern Demon King waved his hand, the crimson fire in his palm vanishing instantly, radiating undeniable dominance.
Such terrifying power sent chills down the spines of every Demon high-ranking official—who would dare disobey?
None could understand what exactly had transpired, nor what had happened to their lord.
But all knew one thing: he had destroyed the Slayer Demon Sword Phoenix!
They all knelt before the Northern Demon King, pledging loyalty.
Their fear of the sword had now transferred to the Demon King himself.
“From now on, I am no mere weapon bearer. I will restore the glory of the Demonkind. It is my duty as a Crimson Dragon.”
The shattered remnants of the Slayer Demon Sword were dragged away by a few Demon lackeys and tossed into the Abyssal Lake.
It sank to the bottom, never to rise again.
No Demon cared about its fate.
Victors rule, losers perish—such was the way of the Demon Realm.