All Chapters of DEMON KING'S Love Redemption : Chapter 41
- Chapter 50
112 chapters
Chapter 41
"Then don't let them know," Vann countered. "Give me the key, Elric. The key to the Royal Armory’s southern exit. It’s the only way into the Forbidden Forest." Elric’s hand moved slowly to a heavy iron ring at his belt. His knuckles were white. For a moment, Vann thought the boy would draw his blade, and Vann knew with a sickening certainty that he would have to kill him. He would have to murder the only friend he had made in this life to save the woman who had killed him in the last. But Elric didn't draw his sword. He unhooked the ring and tossed it. The iron clattered on the stone floor, sliding to Vann’s feet. "There’s a tunnel behind the weapon racks. It leads to the dry moat," Elric said, his eyes filled with a grief that would haunt him for years. "Go. Before I change my mind. And Vann... if she wakes up and she’s truly gone... if she’s just a monster... promise me you’ll finish it." Vann didn't promise. He couldn't.
Chapter 42
The cave was a jagged, lightless maw, exhaling the scent of wet limestone and the metallic tang of dried blood. Inside, the only illumination came from the flickering, dying glow of a low-grade mana-stone Vann had tossed onto the floor, its pale blue light casting long, distorted shadows against the damp walls. Vann sat propped against a stalagmite, his breathing shallow and rattling. His arms, or what remained of them after intercepting the Spear of Judgment, were a grotesque map of charred flesh and exposed, blackened bone. Every twitch of his fingers was a symphony of agony that threatened to plunge him into the mercy of unconsciousness, but he couldn't afford to sleep. Not yet.Across the cramped space, laid out on a bed of dry moss and a discarded cloak, Freya van Aethelgard began to stir.The sound that came from her throat wasn't human. It was a low, vibrating thrum, like a hornet trapped in a glass jar, resonating with a frequency that made the very air in the cavern
Chapter 43
Vann’s blood froze. He understood those words. It was Ancient Demonic—the tongue of the primordial abyss, a language that hadn't been spoken on this plane for ten thousand years. She wasn't just losing her memory; her soul was being overwritten by an entity that predated the concept of humanity."Freya, stay with me!" Vann shouted, dragging his broken, charred body toward her. Every movement was an exercise in pure, unadulterated torment. He crawled through the dirt, his blood leaving a dark, glistening trail behind him. He reached out with a trembling, blackened hand and gripped her shoulder. The heat radiating from her skin was enough to blister what little healthy flesh he had left, but he didn't let go. "I don't care who they say you are," Vann growled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't care what the heavens have turned you into. You are Freya van Aethelgard. You are the woman who chose to save a monster like me. I will not let you disappear
Chapter 44
The sky had turned into a fresh, open wound. Above the canopy of the Forbidden Forest, the moon hung bloated and heavy, a celestial eye bathed in the visceral hue of arterial blood. It wasn't merely red; it was a pulsating, rhythmic crimson that seemed to drip light onto the jagged peaks and the rotting moss below. The Blood Moon—the Aethel-Kala—had risen, an omen that the laws of the world were fraying at the seams.Inside the damp recesses of the cave, the red moonlight filtered through the cracks in the ceiling like threads of silk. Vann leaned against the cold limestone, his chest heaving. Every breath was a jagged blade in his lungs. His arms, charred by the Divine Spear, were held together by little more than willpower and the residual mana of a King who refused to die. The smell of his own burnt flesh was a cloying, sweet rot that filled the small space, competing with the scent of wet earth."Stay still," Vann hissed, his voice a guttural scrape. He didn't have
Chapter 45
The leader stood up and reached into his robes, pulling out a dagger made of black glass. "If the King is too weak to lead her, then the King is an obstacle." In an instant, the two other cultists vanished into shadows, reappearing on either side of Vann with curved blades drawn. They moved with the grace of practiced assassins, their movements fueled by the very dark mana Vann had once commanded in his prime. Vann didn't move. He didn't even raise his arms. "I may be broken," Vann whispered, his voice dropping to a frequency that made the stones of the cave vibrate. "I may be dying. But I am still the one who taught the darkness how to bite." "Domain Fragment: Grave of the Unspoken." He didn't unleash a full domain—he couldn't—but for a three-meter radius around him, the world simply ceased to exist. The two assassins were frozen mid-air, their bodies turning into grey ash before they could even scream. The
Chapter 46
The borderlands of Aethelgard did not welcome travelers; they merely endured them. Here, the air was a biting mixture of mountain frost and the humid rot of the lowlands, a grey, oppressive mist that clung to the skin like a wet shroud. Vann adjusted the heavy, salt-stained traveler’s cloak around his shoulders, his fingers twitching beneath the thick wool. His arms were still a map of angry, blackened scars—souvenirs from the Divine Spear—but the dark alchemy had done its work. The bones were set, even if the nerves screamed with every sudden movement. Beside him, Freya walked with her head bowed, her face hidden deep within the shadow of an oversized hood. She moved with a strange, liquid grace that wasn't entirely human anymore. Though the obsidian horns had receded, she carried a weight in her stride that felt like a coiled spring. The silence between them wasn't cold, but it was heavy, filled with the unspoken reality that they were now the most hunted pair in the kin
Chapter 47
It wasn't a spell, not in the traditional sense. It was a localized collapse of reality. An invisible, crushing weight slammed down on the village square, as if the sky itself had suddenly turned into lead. The mud beneath the mercenaries' feet exploded outward. The soldiers who were mid-lunge were driven into the ground as if hit by a falling mountain. Armor buckled. Ribs snapped with a chorus of wet thuds. The mercenaries weren't just falling; they were being flattened. The captain, who was larger and stronger than the rest, managed to stay on his knees, but his eyes were bloodshot, the vessels in his neck bulging as he fought against a gravity that didn't belong to this world. Freya stood at the center of the devastation, her hood finally falling back. Her golden hair was whipping around her face in an invisible gale. The "Dosa Reinkarnasi" on her cheek was glowing with a fierce, violet radiance, and for a split second, the shadow she cast on the mu
Chapter 48
The scent of rancid grease and cheap, watered-down ale clung to the damp walls of 'The Blind Pig,' a tavern so dilapidated it seemed to be held together only by the sheer stubbornness of the grime covering its floorboards. Vann sat in the furthest corner, the shadows of the flickering tallow candles pooling around him like a protective shroud. Beside him, Freya kept her hood pulled low, her gloved fingers tracing the rim of a wooden mug she hadn't touched. Even through the heavy wool of her disguise, Vann could feel the unnatural hum of her aura—a restless, vibrating frequency that spoke of the storm brewing beneath her skin. Every time the tavern door groaned open to admit the freezing mountain wind, Vann’s hand instinctively drifted toward the hilt of the concealed blade at his waist. His arms throbbed, the nerves still knitting themselves back together under the layers of bandages, a constant, stinging reminder of the heavens’ wrath. "You should eat something
Chapter 49
Belial raised his poleaxe high, the green light intensifying until it blinded the senses. " Earth-Breaker: Tectonic Collapse!" He slammed the weapon down. The obsidian floor didn't just crack; it shattered into thousands of floating islands, the gravitational pull of the dimension turning into a chaotic mess. Massive pillars of stone erupted from the void, guided by Belial’s will, converging on Vann from every direction. Vann felt his ribs groan under the atmospheric pressure. His current body was a bottleneck, a fragile vessel trying to contain a supernova. He looked at his hands, seeing the bandages begin to fray as his mana surged to dangerous levels. I can't win a war of attrition, Vann thought, his mind working with the cold logic of a strategist. I have to end this in one strike, or this body will shatter before he does. He closed his eyes, ignoring the screaming pillars of stone closing in. He reached deep into the
Chapter 50
The cold within the cavern was no longer merely a matter of temperature; it had become an ontological weight, pressing against Vann’s skin like the crushing depths of an abyssal sea. Between him and Freya sat the artifact Belial had provided—the Amnesia Plate of the Fallen. It was a jagged slab of obsidian, etched with silver ley-lines that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic violet light, mimicking the heartbeat of a dying star. "Are you certain of this, Sire?" Belial’s voice was a low rumble in the corner of the cave, his massive form half-hidden in the shadows. He was sharpening his poleaxe, the rhythmic shink-shink of stone on metal the only sound in the oppressive silence. "Touching the Soul Stream isn't like reading a book. You don't just see the memories. You drown in them. If her soul is as fractured as we suspect, you might not find your way back to the shore." Vann didn't look away from Freya. She was sitting cross-legged opposite him, her hands trembling as