Chapter 274 Chapter 272 Mother
The Demon King’s Palace.
This magnificent palace is adorned with abundant gold, showcasing the owner’s wealth and poor taste through exquisite craftsmanship.
A long red carpet stretches upward, ending at a walnut wood armchair where the Demon King, Gima, sits with his legs crossed. On either side of him stands a row of beautiful maids, each wearing collars with dog tags.
Demon King Gima has never bothered to remember the maids’ names.
A tall, blonde elf wearing black stockings and a proper maid outfit, along with glasses, approaches.
She is the head maid and says, “The dance is ready, Master.”
“What about the rest?”
“The rest is also prepared.”
At that moment, a bronze bell rings.
Eight maids wearing black and white ballet dresses surround a maid in a pale yellow dance dress as they gracefully approach.
They dance in front of Demon King Gima, their skirts billowing, and their taut, strong legs occasionally lifting. The black and white stockings wrap around their long legs, sometimes crossing over each other.
The lead maid in the pale yellow dress leaps grandly, spreading her arms and legs like a white swan in midair.
Demon King Gima watches with great interest, his gaze fixated below her skirt as it flutters, repeatedly praising her.
At this moment, a slender figure appears at the entrance, bathed in white light, emanating an alluring charm that instantly captivates Demon King Gima’s attention.
She steps out of the white light with a lightness in her step, as if stepping into someone’s heart, causing a tingling sensation. Only when the white light fades does Demon King Gima finally see the face of the unexpected guest.
With waist-length black hair, slightly curved horns, and bright, pale golden eyes, her beauty immediately overshadowed all the maids present, even though she wore proper clothing—a form-fitting outfit with a cloak. The maids bore the sexually suggestive attire favored by Demon King Gima, dancing hard in the performance he loved.
Demon King Gima’s gaze remains entirely on the black-haired succubus.
The black-haired succubus steps through the nine dancing maids. Seeing and feeling her allure, the maids are struck with jealousy, dancing even harder, but in Demon King Gima’s eyes, they have lost all color.
The black-haired succubus halts before Demon King Gima. He pushes aside the lady maid, fearing that such a beautiful maid might fall, he grabs her hand, saying, “Move aside.”
As he looks at the black-haired succubus in front of him, he notices her vacant eyes, as if she were a marionette.
With a thought, Demon King Gima has the black-haired succubus raise her hand, clutching her collar, revealing her delicate collarbone.
Demon King Gima chuckles, “Hahaha, this is truly amusing.”
The world trembles slightly.
Everything around begins to dissolve.
In the distance, a voice can be faintly heard.
“Child, my child, the perfect child.”
Then, a tremendous force rushes from all directions, pushing one out through some narrow space…
…
Outside Le’an Port, a melee is underway.
Though the chivalrous army has lost its base, a substantial mobile force is still present, driving a large number of fleeing beastmen, disrupting the remaining beastmen’s lines. A ground cavalry unit cuts through the chaotic beastmen, charging directly at the Mother of Beasts, engaging her personal guards.
Amidst this chaos, King Richard the Lionheart gathers all his strength, disregarding everything, surrounding the Mother of Beasts, hoping to take down the Mother with the advantage of the extraordinary.
This is perilous; the number of beastmen is far greater than that of the chivalrous army. Should a large group of beastmen lose courage and regain their ferocity amidst blood and screams, thousands of knights would be trapped in the beast horde, becoming easy targets.
The knights fight fiercely, risking their lives, believing devoutly in the lake goddess, trusting that King Richard can ultimately bring victory.
The sacrifices and awareness of everyone lay a foundation for George, who wields a flaming greatsword.
Only he can effectively kill the Mother of Beasts.
King Richard the Lionheart leads Gryphons and Pegasus knights, paving the way for George. Knights continuously fall, engaging in desperate battles with minotaurs in the mud. Pure-white Pegasi, their wings clipped by minotaurs, cry out in agony, falling to the ground.
Fewer beastmen surround the Mother of Beasts; she is already cornered.
“What an opportunity.”
George instantly seizes this chance, brimming with self-confidence. The important people leaving him today have not shaken his confidence in his sword.
He transforms into a streak of light, darting through the chaotic crowd, aimed straight at the Mother of Beasts.
With a flash of his sword, the Mother of Beasts’ right hand and tentacle staff that she blocks with are severed in two, her wound igniting with flames that burn like maggots into the flesh, following the blood vessels, igniting all the way. The benevolent smile on the Mother of Beasts vanishes as she continuously retreats, severing her own arm amid the mess and unable to even curse.
Just as George is about to pursue, he unfolds his light wings, vowing to slay the Mother of Beasts.
Scarred Bull stands firmly in front of him. He is also gravely injured, but like George, he fights harder. He swings an axe at George with a heavy blow, but George deflects it with his sword.
“Get out of the way!”
“Strength contest!”
Another axe swings, but George seizes the opening, executing a sacred slash. It not only deflects Scarred Bull’s strike but also pierces the armor on his bulky arm, buried in flesh.
Flames cling to Scarred Bull’s forearm, climbing up and burning towards his face.
Scarred Bull roars but reaches to force George’s sword through his own arm, tightly clutching it, then lowers his head to forcefully bash his horns against George.
The impact forces George’s head back, his helmet’s leather strap snapping, flying into the sky.
George’s azure eyes reflect the spinning helmet, remembering how Gima had secured the strap around his chin. With burning rage, he raises his hand, tightly gripping the oncoming horns.
Scarred Bull is ablaze, yet this does not hinder him as he pushes with all his might against George.
George wrestles with him, his calves sinking into the earth, constantly being pushed back, leaving deep gouges in the ground.
“You’re stronger than me!”
Scarred Bull’s voice is filled with pride.
A flash of light shines at Scarred Bull’s neck.
Scarred Bull screams in pain, forcibly throwing George off. As George flies away, he instinctively grabs the giant sword he had just pulled from his waist, the very weapon Gregory had left to him as the final key to victory.
“It hurts.”
The entirely aflame Scarred Bull says, large amounts of blood gushing from the wound on his neck.
George grips the knight’s sword in one hand, the sticky blood from Gima’s headband already dried on the hilt.
Scarred Bull lies on the ground, saying, “Mama, it hurts.”
The Mother of Beasts has surprisingly come beside him, bending down, reaching into the searing flames, enduring the burning pain, stroking his forehead, saying, “Soon, it will stop.”
After saying this, the Mother of Beasts activates her extraordinary powers, restructuring and transforming Scarred Bull’s body, severing nerves and blocking pain sensation.
Scarred Bull says, “Mama, I’m stronger than he is.”
“Yes, you have always been my strongest child.”
Upon hearing this, Scarred Bull closes his singed eyelids, peacefully transitioning.
The Mother of Beasts, Vichina, straightens up, looking at George, who is rushing towards her, opening her arms and saying, “The contract no longer binds me; I can finally call you my child, my most exceptional child. I am your biological mother.”
So what?
George leaps up, delivering a powerful, forceful strike aimed at the Mother of Beasts.
He knows Vichina has not lied. As his sword strikes toward the mother he yearns for, it does not hesitate for even a moment.
Because Gregory is with him now, he remembers the old man’s nagging advice—be prepared, no surprises. He has long since imagined that the Mother of Beasts, Vichina, was his biological mother.
The Mother of Beasts reveals a sorrowful expression, casting an already prepared curse.
“You are my biological child.”
Before the words conclude, the curse flows through the unbreakable bond of blood between mother and child, flooding into George’s body.
Simultaneously, the Mother of Beasts frantically injects beastification powers through the parent-child relationship, controlling and distorting George’s flesh.
George’s muscles writhe and change, causing his sword to wobble. What could have been a fatal strike against the Mother of Beasts merely slices off a strand of her hair.
He collapses to the ground, wracked with pain, his hands clutching his continuously distorting head as horns begin to sprout. He presses down on the horns with his palms, the sharp tips piercing his hands, blood flowing down the horns, seeking to embed them into his skull, but he has no means to do so.
At the same time, George’s body expands, hair growing on his face and neck, his armor tightening painfully, his bones cracking with every movement, yet he refrains from shedding his armor. He feels he is human, not an evil, bloody minotaur, and the armor at least helps him retain a semblance of humanity.
The Mother of Beasts sighs, “Child, why must you resist? You are a beastman; even if your heart leans towards humanity, will the knights accept you?”
As soon as she finishes speaking, the straps on George’s Milan armor snap, the constraints of the armor vanish. George’s height immediately increases by half a meter, his clothing bursts, and his body is covered in brownish-yellow fur.
The knights caught up in the chaos exclaim in shock:
“A bull-man! George has turned into a bull-man!”
“He’s a mutant!”
“We’ve been betrayed!”
They do not notice that George suppresses the beastification; he feels distressed and wishes to explain. Instead, he lets out a beastly roar towards the sky.
Seeing this, King Richard the Lionheart immediately orders, “Seize the burning sword, quickly!”
George pulls up the sword. To his bull-man form, the giant sword now feels like a one-handed weapon. He grips the sword, intending to kill the Mother of Beasts, wrestling to calm his raging extraordinary powers as he fights his way to her.
The Mother of Beasts gently says, “How can a child strike against his mother?”
That person who had signed the “contract”—Gregory—has died, and she is no longer bound. Having the supernatural ability to restrain her offspring, after all, the offspring are made from her flesh. As an extraordinary being skilled in manipulating blood and flesh, controlling her descendants is hardly difficult.
Although the contract signed by Gregory had hidden George from danger, it also protected him.
George’s tensed muscles slacken, the extraordinary powers he had gathered dissipating, yet he still pushes himself, walking towards the Mother of Beasts.
The Mother of Beasts’ guards plan to rush forward, to kill this “half-beast.”
“Stop! He will be your brother.” The Mother of Beasts simultaneously points at the knights approaching from the sky, all of whom are injured and fewer than before, attempting to seize the sword from George’s hand.
The Mother of Beasts, Vichina, orders, “Prevent those knights.”
“Mother, he wants to kill you.”
“Child, do not worry. In the end, he will return to my embrace.” The Mother of Beasts looks benevolently at George, who approaches step by step: “It’s just that humanity has taken him away from me for too long; he hasn’t been able to accept the reality.”
Mother’s command is hard to fulfill.
Even though the beastmen are worried that their mother might die at George’s hands, while simultaneously harboring hatred for the half-beast named George, they still part to make way while blocking the knights.
“The beastmen are protecting George!”
King Richard the Lionheart shouts, “George! If you’re still human, quickly throw the sword back!”
George hears nothing, his ears ringing with the sounds of bones deforming. Under the influence of the Mother of Beasts, his body constantly yearns to fully beastify, but his will continuously suppresses the transformation, causing his bones to lengthen and halt.
A knight angrily yells, “He is a traitor! He has betrayed us.”
The knights strive to charge forward. At last, one knight, mounted on a winged horse, rushes beside George, wielding a lance, stabbing towards his back with a roar: “Traitor!”
The lance pierces George, causing him to lose control further. Now, he is immensely powerful, cleaving the knight and his armor in half, leaving only the winged horse alive. When the knight’s blood splatters across his furry hands, George is momentarily stunned, barely realizing what has happened.
“Come to my arms, child.” The Mother of Beasts opens her arms to George: “They no longer want you. Do not resist the power within you; I am your true mother, and it is for your own good.”
The Mother of Beasts’ voice sounds so loving in his ears. It seems that as long as he accepts her, the cold childhood memories will be warmed by a mother’s affection.
He longs to return to his mother’s warm embrace, knowing there are still family members who love him—his biological mother.
No, she must die.
George rejects this comforting suggestion, veins bulging on his forehead, his head splitting as if two saws were tearing through his brain; this pain arises from the struggle of willpower. One hand grips his head while he forcefully hurls the flaming greatsword at the knights in the sky.
“What a stubborn child,” the Mother of Beasts sighs. “Do not advance any further.”
The lower half of the “flesh mountain” quakes, “Another perfect child is about to mature.”
After saying this, her white “flesh mountain” writhes vigorously. A man and a woman emerge from the amniotic fluid; a two-meter-tall bald man stands up. His eyes are black, his face bears several cutting scars, and his lips are shredded, with a scar on his broad chest where his heart lies—he is Demon King Gima.
He blinks in confusion, looking at the half-beast George, immediately recognizing him. His fists clench, his voice filled with hatred: “George?!”
“Good, child.”
Demon King Gima frowns, glaring at the Mother of Beasts: “Why should I listen to you?”
“Because I am your mother.”
Demon King Gima relaxes his brow, murmuring, “Right, you are my mother.”
The Mother of Beasts glances at the black-haired succubus lying on the ground, soaked and motionless.
“Why is she still alive?”
“Just my marionette.” Demon King Gima grins, showing his broken lips, and that smile looks so ugly. “Get up, slave.”
The succubus, Gima, stands up, her black hair sticking to her neck, her eyes vacant.
“Mother, this is my maid; I hope you can forgive her.”
“Only if you get along well with your good brothers.”
At that moment, several Pegasus knights and King Richard II rush towards the Mother of Beasts from the sky, King Richard wielding the flaming greatsword, descending fiercely.
“Seems like the Demon King?”
“Trash that died in one sword.”
“I’ll go first.”
Demon King Gima reveals a cruel smile:
“It appears many are unaware of just how weak they are. Charge!”
With that, Demon King Gima unleashes several punches against nearby weak large horned beasts, one punch caving in skull and helmet, killing them instantly. Before their deaths, they gaze fearfully at Demon King Gima, terror exploding within their bodies, white bones and flesh erupting, flying onto Demon King Gima, transforming into a terrifying skeletal armor.
The Pegasus knights descend from the sky, charging at Demon King Gima.
“Were it not for my reluctance to harm my maid while creating armor, do you think George stands the slightest chance?”
Without a moment of pause, Demon King Gima leaps into the air. No one sees how he ascends; only the proud and powerful knights appear to dismantle in midair, their bodies splattering like broken puppets, exceptionally bloody.
Only one knight narrowly escapes; he rides his horse, spearing a large horned beast with his lance, but turns to see only the blood and bodies of his fallen comrades, as well as the newly arrived Demon King Gima.
Demon King Gima tilts his ear slightly, saying, “Did you just call me trash?”
“Trash!”
The Pegasus knight kicks his horse’s sides, trying to charge forward.
“You’re scared.” Demon King Gima raises his hand to point.
The Pegasus knight’s pupils constrict, realization dawning on him; he understands now that Demon King Gima is strong enough to kill many knights in an instant and even butcher them, leaving him with no chance of victory.
Courage fades quickly, his hand trembles, and then his neck shakes, his head dropping from his shoulders and falling to the ground.
A guillotine, bringing instant death to a fearful enemy.
At this moment, Demon King Gima sharply senses that King Richard the Lionheart, who had rushed alone to face the Mother of Beasts, has reached a dead end, simultaneously facing the Mother of Beasts and five giant horned bulls.
Demon King Gima’s strong body surges forward, swift as a hurricane, crashing into King Richard the Lionheart. An axe spear lunges forward, its edges enveloped in black energy, precisely striking the arm of King Richard, sending the flaming golden greatsword spinning to the ground.
His gryphon valiantly bears King Richard the Lionheart away. Once he retreats from the battlefield, Demon King Gima’s fierce assault has left him with many wounds.
“Escaping like a dog,” Demon King Gima gazes at Richard’s fleeing figure from a distance.
The Mother of Beasts, Vichina, strides forward, reprimanding, “Child, how can you don armor made from your brother’s flesh and blood?”
“Who told them to be so weak?”
At a thought, Demon King Gima’s body quakes painfully.
Demon King Gima exclaims, “Mother! I was wrong.”
“That’s good.” The Mother of Beasts smiles, “How’s the body I gave you?”
“Very good.”
“I will allow you independence in the future.” The Mother of Beasts says, “But someone from your hometown helped me; I owe them a reward—the fragments of the Demon King’s crown. Do you remember where you placed it?”
“Mother, please forgive my unfiliality.”
The Mother of Beasts replies, “It’s fine; I’ve already considered part of you as compensation for them. They will find the crown fragments eventually.”
Demon King Gima glances at George, still kneeling on the ground, struggling against his beastification.
“What an unruly child,” the Mother of Beasts sighs. “He is always refusing to accept that he is a beastman. After so many years apart, shouldn’t a mother and son embrace tightly when they recognize each other? What have humans taught him?”
Demon King Gima sneers, “Hmph, only milk is mother.”
“Has he never thought he is so gifted? Doesn’t that carry a trace of my contribution as his mother?” The Mother of Beasts shakes her head sadly. “I must make him change his mind completely, to cast off his weak human body.”
“Mother,” Demon King Gima says, “I will make him change his mind.”
With that, he beckons to the black-haired succubus, Gima, “Come here, my maid.”
Gima approaches Demon King Gima, her eyes vacant. He lifts her chin, takes a look around, and says, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, so beautiful. Thanks, brother, for knowing I don’t like purebreds, helping me develop so much.”
“You!”
George struggles to his feet, angered, facing the reduced power of his beastification.
The Mother of Beasts taps Demon King Gima on the head, “Why tease your brother so?”
“Only if it works.” Demon King Gima replies, “Besides, I have no grudge against him. He killed me and took my harem, I hate him, I dislike him.”
“Alright, if I exert a bit more effort, George will become a strong and healthy beastman.”
The Mother of Beasts passes by Demon King Gima, walking by the succubus, casting a glance at her, saying, “And send your succubus maid far away; I don’t want to see her.”
“Okay, Mom.”
The Mother of Beasts continuously channels beastification powers to George through their “mother-child relationship,” bending down to look at the half-beast, George, saying, “Why resist, child? Look how ugly you are now. Quickly come to your mother’s embrace. You were taken from me immediately after birth, and I could not even breastfeed you.”
George’s will grows fainter, gazing at the Mother of Beasts’ breasts, hallucinations beginning to form. He forgets his identity, forgets Gregory, Gima, Jenner, and Frost Leaf, as if becoming a child again, wishing only to return to his mother’s arms.
“Mom… Mom…”
In the gentle embrace of a mother, suddenly an axe spear bursts forth, blood pouring out like a low-quality film, gushing uncontrollably.
The Mother of Beasts’ pupils contract, and the voice of Demon King Gima calls out from behind her, “You are nothing.”
Demon King Gima’s body is clearly made of his own flesh; his soul resides within his meat. How could he betray? In Gima’s eyes, isn’t he the most loving mother?
Who would take action against their mother?
“Impossible?”
Injured, the Mother of Beasts has to relinquish the infusion of beastification powers into George. Turning around, she glances at Demon King Gima, whose muscles contort and twist in her eyes, his arms merging into one.
But Demon King Gima struggles, spitting out two words: “You’re scared.”
The Mother of Beasts’ head falls to the ground.
George suddenly awakens; for an instant, his gaze locks onto a large horned beast. He just plunges the flaming greatsword into the ground, hoping to extinguish the flames on it. Like lightning, George retrieves the flaming greatsword, leaping up, brandishing it down toward the Mother of Beasts.
The Mother of Beasts’ head regrows just in time, tilting it back as she faces the vertically descending George, saying, “My child.”
In an instant, George recalls countless lonely nights in his childhood, immersed in the distant forest where a woman’s figure would often appear, gazing at him from afar. The wind blows her hood back—it is the Mother of Beasts, Vichina.
Thank you for watching over me, Mother.
Without a moment of hesitation, George’s sword cleaves down, severing her head, neck, and torso in two.
Her body ignites in flames, Gregory’s residual soul burrows into her wounds, biting and searing her essence…
——————
Three thousand words overdue.
