Chapter 94 – Untitled
As the explosion of “the Force of Destruction” came to an end, the entire battlefield became clear. The Rick River flowed backward, and a large pit with a radius of one hundred meters appeared nearby, its surface glass-like. All traces had vanished, leaving only the dark silhouettes of rocks at the edges of the battlefield, and the armor scattered on the ground proved that they had visited this world.
The shockwave carried various relics of the annihilation army: armor, tank parts, charred corpses of colossal beasts, tattered flags, etc., landing on the hillside, some crashing down, some merely falling, accumulating layer upon layer below the slope. From a distance, it resembled a heap of dead cockroaches piled together.
On the ground, one section of land bulged. A vulture jumped out from the earth, wearing a makeshift gas mask—though it did not need to breathe; the mask was more for ritualistic purposes. Before Jima detonated the nuclear bomb, it had burrowed into a cave at least thirty meters deep.
In the distance, a giant dragon pit loomed, with rivers running dry, steam rising. The once invincible annihilation army now lay scattered across the land, with only fragments visible, along with a few fleeing troops barely discernible on the horizon.
The remnants of the fire army remained only here. George felt a deep sense of awe for humanity once again. He turned his head to glance into the distance, unable to discern a clear direction, but saw the silhouettes of soldiers flickering within the distant camp, making a ruckus.
The last troops near the battlefield, unprotected by any cover, weren’t so fortunate. The shockwave swept them and the entangled demon chariot together into the grave. At least, in that way, the scourgers got what they wished for—their deaths set them free, and their souls did not fall into the hands of demons.
George raised his sword, pressing his forehead against the blade, paying his respects. He had a 360-degree view, locking his gaze on the corpse of the demon dragon Mavor. Her body crashed into the mountainside, her tail spread and swaying, shards of rock falling around her, one horn gone, and her wings twisted unnaturally.
In terms of appearance, she was the best-preserved demon dragon George had ever seen, which meant she might still be alive. Perhaps before the nuclear explosion, she had managed to react and used some superpower.
George cautiously grasped the holy sword tightly, mumbling, “Attacking and burning imperial soldiers is a crime that cannot be pardoned. Suspected of arson in the forest is a crime that cannot be pardoned.”
Once again passing judgment, the massive ancient demon dragon, with her injuries, was as trivial compared to the guilt radiating from Jima as a firefly to the sun.
There was no other way. After all, George couldn’t investigate every named individual in the fire army for evidence of crimes; everyone had been wiped clean for two years.
As George approached Mavor, slowing down thirty meters away, he exclaimed, “You can’t play dead here!”
He shouted, changing direction to circle behind the demon dragon Mavor. Her thick tail lay limply on the ground, soft like a rope, a stark contrast to the wooden stick used to whip her before.
Of course, George wasn’t worried about being caught by her tail; he was just being cautious. The simplest and most effective method to trick an enemy into playing dead was when the enemy was actually not dead.
He charged forward and stabbed his sword into her tail, black blood oozing from the broken dragon scales.
Mavor’s body twitched as if shocked, and after several spasms, she shrank down, transforming into human form in a matter of blinks.
Lying on her side, unconscious, she faced George, one horn broken.
George gripped the holy sword tightly, his gaze locked onto her; she was taller than Jima, standing at least two meters one hornless.
Her figure was voluptuous and mature, with a clearly defined and elongated waist, and a dragon saddle wrapped around her waist for riding.
Her clothes were tattered, exposing her fair skin. Blood dripped from her dragon tail, flowing over her suspender stockings, which had many tears, the elastic flesh of her thighs bulging out.
George decided to search for Jima tonight; perhaps there were some grievances he hadn’t settled with her. If she was busy resurrecting, he’d find Jenna and Lia.
He circled to her back, aiming for her neck, preparing to behead her.
Thinking of dragging this gigantic dragon back, purifying her could soothe the earth’s energy and alleviate his dining issues.
“Stop!”
George’s sword didn’t halt.
“In the name of the Heavenly King Ya’Ma!”
George’s blade stopped at Mavor’s neck, golden-haired locks swaying softly as his blade severed dozens of strands of hair.
A knight in full demonic armor, one of the apocalypse knights, accompanied by an ugly pink demon, approached George. It was indeed the Niku Pink Demon General.
An ugly demon.
George asked, “You have three sentences; otherwise, I will execute you.”
The apocalypse knights snorted with disdain, arrogantly staring at the brave one as they replied, “We serve the true Demon King.”
That was one sentence.
The Niku Pink Demon General then jumped off the floating platform, pointing at George, saying, “Man of the King, I come in the name of Great King Jima.”
That was two sentences.
She stated that if Marus, claiming to be the Demon King, had no men, they would abduct one if they could—this would provide him with a surprise.
That made it three sentences.
Hero George asked, “I’ll ask one thing; what were her exact words?”
The man was killed directly; for the woman, they’d drag her back and brainwash her NTR style.
“That’s my wife’s style.”
The Niku Pink Demon General seemed unperturbed, replying, “We all know the traces you’ve left in the King’s army.”
George was relieved that he wore a pig head mask, preventing others from seeing his face.
He stepped aside and asked, “Can you control such a powerful demon dragon?”
“Our master favors the human king.” The Niku Pink Demon General seemed to have a pair of pink shackles added at some point, even pinker than cherry blossoms.
After shackling her wrists and ankles, the Niku Pink Demon General poked Mavor with her staff from a distance, checked on her, and waved her hand in the air.
Five or six small, ugly pink demons appeared together, standing on the floating platform, surrounding the unconscious and unfortunate demon dragon Mavor with parachutes.
For some reason, George suddenly thought of goblins; compared to the demon dragon Mavor, the ugly pink demons resembled small, ugly goblins.
They performed a ritual, continuously chanting spells, rubbing their unattractive hands over Mavor, etching runes onto her exposed skin from time to time.
Mavor twisted her body occasionally but could not break free from the invisible chains.
“Alright.” George had just said that when all the pink demons immediately leaped away from Mavor as if she were a bomb set to explode at any moment.
“I’m leaving.” George put down his sword and began to walk away.
“Wait! Man of the King!” General Yang called after George urgently.
George halted his steps.
“The King said you must protect her.”
“Why?”
“Because she… has she awakened?!”
Mavor suddenly sat up, stretching her hands forcefully, trying to tear the chains apart, which pulled tight with a cracking sound.
The Niku Pink demons scrambled up onto the floating platform with astonishing speed, flying away as fast as they could.
The Niku Pink Demon General quickly lay behind George: “Because we do not have the ability to escort her into the King’s hands; now that you are the favored man of the King, you must be strong—this should be easy for you; extend your hand.”
George extended his hand.
The Niku Pink Demon General hurriedly slapped a wand with a button into his palm.
George swiftly dodged, asking, “Is this harmful to me?”
“Not harmful!”
George accepted the wand: this metallic staff had three buttons; one read “Neck,” another read “Wrist,” and the third read “Electric Shock.”
“Press one.”
George pressed the “Neck” button.
Click.
A semi-transparent chain burst out from the wand, linking to it.
Mavor, furious, yanked at her neck with such force that she pulled George down to the ground, forcing him to sit up and resist.
“Do you know how to use it? Do you know what this is?”
George pressed the electric shock button.
Special effects produced visible blue electric currents, making Mavor’s chest shake; she raised her head in anger and pulled with all her strength, flinging George away, crashing him against the mountainside. He hit the wall, bounced back, and managed to pull Mavor down to the ground.
The Niku Pink Demon General and her group had already taken to the skies to escape.
“Why didn’t the electric shock work?”
“Of course it didn’t. It can only provide a little stimulation to the demon dragon Mavor; the King said that this adds some excitement.”
The wand transmitted a tremendous force again.
George regretted not having beheaded Mavor when he had the chance to stop her.
“What should I do now?”
The Niku Pink Demon General and her group grew distant: “Beat her! Keep hitting her until she is incapacitated, but be careful not to kill her!” they commanded.
Mavor pushed herself off the ground, rising. Her strong, muscular legs could not stand due to the shattered bones from her imprisonment; her eyes turned red, and sparks spewed from her mouth.
Based on his understanding of Jima, if he delivered Mavor into her hands, she would undoubtedly be very disappointed. Even though she was quite depraved, George didn’t like her personality, but… living as a couple meant compromising with each other, right?
Jima complained that he was always doing good deeds, constantly urging him to fall to evil.
George sighed, putting down the holy sword, drawing out the bell, and lunging at Mavor with a flurry of blows.
The two engaged in a melee for ten minutes, ending with George’s victory; he had gained a few more pits in his body.
Mavor panted heavily and temporarily ceased her struggles. George covered her eyes with vines, forcefully treated her knee, and yanked her up from the ground.
He needed to ascertain the fate of the eternal chosen Marus; this affair had already consumed a considerable amount of time.
George tugged at Mavor and sprinted with all his might; Mavor could hardly keep up, ultimately having to hop like a rabbit.
The closer they approached the center of the lava, the more they marveled at the horror of “Terra’s Power.”
The glass-like ground still exuded steam. A humanoid statue could be seen in the stone—shadowy and bloodthirsty—extending its hand, trying to seize something that appeared to be liquid.
George paused for a moment, staring at this dark shadow.
Mavor could not help but whisper, “What is this power?”
“Human power,” George replied. “Terra’s Power.”
Mavor sneered, “Do you think it can destroy my master?”
“It can.”
“Weak.”
George tugged at Mavor once more, and she closed her eyes, hopping with her legs drawn together.
