Chapter 387 The Demon Kings Summit
[Layland Kleinhaus' POV]
'Fuck, I am pissed!' I mentally snarl as I caress Winerva's hair.
My desire to tear the head of the white-haired bastard of a Demon King is still strong, but I reign myself in. I have behaved outrageously enough. Although these eight Demon Kings don't want to face Ilschevar directly, there is no reason to provoke them. Our kingdom is steadily growing. It will be wasteful to send it into another war.
Calming my pounding heart down, I retract my killing intent and reign Mana in. The Demon King's Companions can now breathe normally again. They are looking at me as if they want to thank and curse me at the same time. I don't care and they should understand it if my derisive snort is any indication.
I remove myself from the center of the meeting space and stand on Ilschevar's right. Valeria glances at me and flashes me a soft smile, prompting me to return the smile. Only now that I can face her. My mind was too clouded by rage to properly face her just a few moments ago. I didn't want to accidentally direct my anger toward her.
I wish I had Luxia with me to put Winerva's mind at ease. This is a harsh world, but I bet what she experienced still traumatized her. Not anyone could survive torture and remain normal; let alone survive an experiment. What I saw in that laboratory was horrid. All of those displayed skins belonged to Winerva. I am sure they weren't taken from her while she was sedated.
'Fuck, I still want to rip that motherfucker's head off!'
My Mana almost flares again, prompting me to reign it back in. I still have some energy to battle a Demon King. With [Pride], I can be an unstoppable killing machine, given that I don't die in the first strike. I only need to withstand ten strikes or maybe less to overpower my stronger opponents. I get a power-up each time I withstand a strike, which reinvigorates me. I am confident in my ability to take the white-haired twat.
Unfortunately, I can't do that. Not now, at least. The Demon Kings Summit should be the most civil discussion platform for Demon Kings. It is a platform to show off their strongest force but not to harm each other. I have caused enough ruckus, so it is time for me to save Ilschevar's face. I am sure he doesn't care about it, but nothing is wrong with keeping up a front.
"What an insolent successor you have, Ilschevar. Barging in like he owned the place, disregarding his superiors, and even destroying my table! I hope you will compensate me for that," the Ilschevar copycat, Havelar Primagna, grumbles. He is more pissed about his table than many other things.
I turn my head to the black-haired Demon and look at him in mild interest. He glares at me intensely, causing me to quirk an eyebrow. I have a reasonable suspicion that he and Ilschevar are related. Their gaze and demeanor aside, their uncanny resemblance in appearance screams, "We are twins!" I guess that is the reason why he doesn't like Ilschevar much.
'A jealous twin, aren't we?'
As if knowing what I am thinking, Havelar frowns. He says nothing, so I turn my head away. My curiosity has been satiated. I turn my attention back to Winerva. Fortunately, even without Luxia's help, she can still rest peacefully. The scene puts my heart at ease, but I still think ripping that white-haired bastard's head is a good exercise.
"This is a matter that Rusceus brought upon himself, so I should refuse to compensate you for what happened," Ilschevar speaks up. "However, given that Rusceus has just lost his successor, I am willing to cover the compensation for him. As much as I loathe his action, he is still my sibling, after all."
No one makes a face. Ilschevar is the only one smiling 'sincerely.' Despite how well their poker face is, I can tell their stomachs twist and turn at Ilschevar's statement. They are aware of how fake it is, but they need to put up a front. The entire meeting is a joke given the layers of masks covering their faces, but they still go along with it. It is sickening. That is how Demons are.
"I have to thank you for your benevolence, then," Rusceus mutters neutrally. "I hope there is no more enmity between us."
Ilschevar glances at me before answering. "That will depend on my successor. I don't hold any grudge against you…not now, at least."
Ilschevar is blatantly threatening Rusceus, but no one bats an eyelash. Ilschevar has enough reason to barbeque the twit, so his threat is reasonable. Of course, no one wants Rusceus' head more than I do. I hate it when idiots are messing with something that belongs to me.
'That's very Demon-like of me,' I blink in realization.
Clap!
Ilschevar clasps his hands, removing the table I split and replacing it with a new one. This one is made from a wood that contains dense Natural Energy. It must be something from the Amizanima forest, given its dark color. I like the design and the intricacy of the patterns. Unfortunately, the uptight Havelar is displeased. The buffoon doesn't have a great taste.
"Are you joking with me? Why don't you just give me a Divine Relic?" Havelar chastises.
"Natural Energy withstands Demonic Mana the best. If any of you get irked, I can guarantee this table will withstand your blow," Ilschevar explains calmly.
'Ah, so that is the case, huh?' I remark mentally.
Havelar grunts but doesn't refute Ilschevar anymore. He proceeds to tell the others to update their situation and I can't pay much attention to that. These Demons are not stupid enough to reveal anything vital to their territories. All they talk about is the war they have with the other races even though Havelar made it clear that he wanted to know more about their territories' development. Of course, he is also no different from them.
I wince slightly when I feel a strain in my Mana Pool. I have used a great deal of Mana for the last week and the backlash has finally caught up. Surreptitiously, I let go of my Dragon Form. My size shrinks rapidly, but I am still the second tallest in this place. The strain subsides, but it makes me feel hungry. I haven't eaten for a week, after all.
My month-long battle with Quetzalcoatl gave me a solution to hunger during a battle: Power-up. Each of them is enough to make me feel full for four days, at least. That was the reason why I could go on for a month straight without resting. Granted, I was not in complete control of myself, but there were moments when I could take control because I felt hungry and tired. The Power-ups I got made me lose that chance.
'Hm… should I ask Ilschevar to hit me strong enough to cripple but not kill me?' I muse, seriously considering its convenience.
In the end, I shake my head. I am missing Millonia's cooking anyway. I also feel sorry for my dismissive attitude toward her, so I am going to use her cooking as a reason to make up with her. Besides, I may not need to eat, but I still want to pamper my palates with the delectable delicacies this world has to offer.
"I know you prize that fuckbuddy of yours, but don't you think it is impolite to carry her around during a Demon Kings Summit?" a purple-haired, pale-skinned Demonness remarks with a challenging grin.
I briefly meet her eyes before disregarding her. The best treatment for someone as stuck-up as the pale wench is to ignore her.
"What a mannerless cretin you are indeed."
Voila, it works.
"This mannerless cretin may step on your throat and force you to watch your prized territories razed to the ground by his army one day. Smart humans like to invest, so I suggest you do the same thing before you do irreversible damage to your future," I quip nonchalantly, reveling in the glare the wench sends me.
"She may be a little harsh, but I do agree with Violet, Layland," Ilschevar remarks. "You may put her down. I can assure you that no one will touch her."
"I will put her down, but that will require me to go back to Antares. Are you fine with that?"
Ilschevar immediately flashes a wry look. I shrug and ignore him. It is not that I am afraid that some idiots will snatch Winerva from me again. I don't want to put Winerva on the ground. She has faced enough bullshit. Having a good rest after a long time of agony is the least I can do for her as compensation for dragging her into my affair.
'Huh. I need to kill that bastard.'
Forcing my budding irritation down, I shoot Rusceus a mild glare. I would have also sneered at him if the love of my life, Valeria, didn't touch my shoulder. I turn my head to her and look at her curiously. She merely extends her hands and gestures at Winerva. I wordlessly pass Winerva to her. She flashes me a small smile before disappearing into thin air.
It is just me and Ilschevar now. Soon enough, I feel a pressure that wasn't on me before. I quirk an eyebrow and take note of every Mana Signature pinning on me. All of the Demon King's Companions are ganging up on me after Valeria's departure, thinking that I will be intimidated. My lips quirk up lightly. I pressure all of the idiots with my Mana, causing their breath to hitch.
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