Lord of the Truth - Chapter 1856

Chapter 1856: The demons’ joy
“….!!!” Thousands of Demons froze, their eyes wide, their claws gripping the edges of the ground, gates, and walls. Shock and disbelief rippled through the crowd.

The King —their sole protector, the singular force that had kept this terrifying creature alive against all odds— had just torn off its arm as if it were no more than a fragile, brittle leaf fluttering in the wind.

“Too soft… too soft for a Demon,” Sakaar muttered under his breath, tossing the white Demon’s severed arm into the air several times before hurling it far away. It spun through the air, landing with a wet thud among the stunned masses behind him, who flinched instinctively at the sight.

Then, without a flicker of hesitation, Sakaar lifted Leosar by the upper half of his neck, holding him firmly and unwavering. “If I raised a dog, it would have acknowledged my favor. If I raised a lion, it would have licked my fingers every day,” he said coldly, his voice low yet dripping authority.

“Aggh….”

He then spun Leosar so that his back faced him, the muscles in his hand tightening, his grip unyielding.

“Is this… the back I have protected for you all these years?”

Baaam!

The King’s fist struck like a cannonball, shattering the lower part of Leosar’s crimson armor with unrelenting force. His spine crumpled under the blow, and the impact tore through to the other side, ripping a jagged hole in the pale, smooth flesh of his abdomen. The sound of cracking bone and splintering armor echoed through the corridors, vibrating in the ears of every Demon nearby.

“Ggh!! Ggghhhh!!!!” Leosar’s single eye filled with blood and tears. Shock, pain, and disbelief twisted his features. He had dominated weaker Demons, bullied a few minor Kings, and assumed his strength made him untouchable.

Yet nothing had prepared him for this. His body trembled uncontrollably as he realized, too late, the overwhelming difference in power. Not even the King had unleashed his full potential—the Blood Sea had not even been summoned.

Is this… what death truly feels like?

But Sakaar did not deliver the final blow—at least not yet. Instead, he pulled his hand back from Leosar’s shattered back, flicking it sharply to remove the slick blood. His left hand still gripped the white Demon’s neck from behind. Leosar hung limp, utterly powerless. His legs and arms dangled, incapable of movement; his entire body now only obeyed the weight of gravity.

Fear burned in his single, wide eye. Every thought racing in his mind was consumed with the inevitability of death, yet he said nothing.

Leosar understood perfectly: any sound from him now would only accelerate the end.

Meanwhile, Sakaar scanned the carnage he had wrought. He cast a slow, deliberate glance over dozens of fallen Demons of every rank—armored warriors, female fighters, and young cubs alike—before exhaling sharply.

“Give them a proper funeral. Consume their bodies, and leave nothing for the worms,” he commanded.

“Yes, my lord!”

“Yes, King!!”

“Thank you for defending us, King!!”

“Long live the King!!”

The Demons moved cautiously, dragging the corpses forward. Their steps were hesitant; despite the duty of eating the dead, their faces reflected neither joy nor pride—only grim acknowledgment of necessity. Some grimaced at the stench, the sticky blood, the grotesque reality of their actions, yet they obeyed. It was mandatory.

Normally, Demons did not consume each other. They gained no power from the flesh of their own kind, and the taste was bitter, rancid, and unpleasant to say the least. But when hunger was unbearable and there was nothing else to eat, they would swallow, forcing their bodies to survive.

In this case, the practice was not just survival but ritualized respect among the Nihari nests. Eating the bodies of the dead was considered an honor—a way to protect the sanctity of their territory. Corpses decomposed rapidly into putrid blood, attracting swarms of worms and insects while contaminating the soil for decades. For Demons who relied on hiding in forests, these dead patches could reveal their existence—and such a revelation was strictly forbidden.

So, with a mixture of disgust and reverence, they ate. They filled their bellies reluctantly, performing a duty passed down for generations. This practice had continued for centuries, persisting even to the present day.

Sakaar, satisfied that the Demons were occupied with their grim duty, took one last sweeping glance before turning his attention fully to Leosar. He grasped the white Demon firmly, lifting him away from the gathered crowd, guiding him toward a specific path. Leosar’s body remained limp, trembling only slightly under the weight of fear and the overwhelming power of the King.

Every motion, every step, every detail of this moment was etched into the minds of the observing Demons. They witnessed the sheer authority and unstoppable might of their King—the one who could destroy, punish, and control even the most dangerous of their kind without hesitation. Fear, respect, and awe intermingled in the air, a suffocating cloud that clung to their senses as they followed at a careful distance.

And in the middle of it all, Leosar, powerless and humiliated, could only feel the truth of his insignificance—and the terrifying reality of Sakaar’s dominance.

——

Outside the underground city—

Poof

Sakaar hurled the white Demon’s limp body aside as if he were discarding a worthless sack of garbage, dust rising as the body skidded across the rough ground. He straightened up slowly, his sharp senses flaring as he began scanning the dim surroundings, making sure no hidden threat lingered nearby.

Woosh

A powerful gust of wind spiraled downward as an armored Demon plummeted from the sky and landed with enough force to crack the stone beneath him. “Your Majesty.” He examined Leosar with visible confusion for several long seconds before lowering himself into a deep bow. “Thank you for responding to our pleas, O King of Kings!!”

Bam

Another armored Demon crashed down almost immediately after, armor clattering. He rushed toward Lyosar to inspect him, while a booming laugh echoed across the cavern. “AHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Zorka,” Sakaar called out, his tone firm. The laughing Demon—one of the Demon Kings tasked with shielding the entire underground city from enemy bombardment—snapped to attention. “Leosar attacked me. And the words he spoke weren’t his own. They weren’t the words of a Demon. It’s painfully clear that Kaelforn tampered with his mind with words during the time he kept him.”

“The Emperor of Shattering Meteors?”

The laughter died instantly. The Demon’s expression hardened into something cold and dangerous. “Even if this pale piece of shit deserved to die, Kaelforn daring to manipulate one of us against to hurt you…? Shall I bring you his head right now, Your Majesty?”

“Not yet,” Sakaar replied, voice low. “We still need him to complete the mission. But I will not allow this insult to pass unnoticed.” He tilted his chin toward the far horizon. “Find the largest army under the Shattering Meteors Empire. Track their movements… and orchestrate their complete annihilation. Leave no survivors—erase them.”

“Understood.”

The Demon King struck his chest in a rigid salute, then shot eastward like a burning meteor.

“Your Majesty…” The remaining armored Demon shifted uneasily before speaking. “What will you do with him now? Even if his mind was manipulated, he still carries responsibility for what happened.”

“You’re right. He cannot stay among us.” Sakaar nodded once, final and absolute.

“…!!!”

Lying on his side, feigning unconsciousness, Leosar’s heart clenched in terror.

King Sakaar was not a ruler who forgave wrongdoing.

Leosar had lived among them long enough to know—he had seen the king’s methods, knew his iron principles. The king would never simply order him healed and released. For Sakaar to say he could not remain with them… meant only one thing:

Leosar’s life was already forfeit.

“May I do it myself?”

The Demon King bowed low, plucked a tiny pebble from the ground, and pointed it toward Leosar like a miniature weapon. “Please, Your Majesty? Grant me the honor?”

“…”

Sakaar blinked in surprise.

The Demon King could crush Leosar effortlessly with a single step—yet he chose a pebble? To kill him slowly? To make him suffer? How exactly did he intend to end him with something so small? To what extent did this Demon desire to savor the torture?!

“Go,” Sakaar ordered instead, raising a hand. “Summon several Shadow Swords for me. Strong ones. If possible, bring His Highness Theo himself. That would be ideal.”

“Shadow Swords?”

The Demon King dropped the pebble in disappointment, shoulders sinking. “I can retrieve them, certainly… but do not expect His Highness Theo to come.”

“Why?” Sakaar narrowed his eyes. “This matter is severe.”

“You may not be aware, Your Majesty…”

The Demon King stepped closer and lowered his voice, tension thickening the air.

“…but something very bad has occurred in Young Sector 99…”