Chapter 240: A Name Echoing in an Unattended Corner

Demon Capital, Cabinet Building, Office of the Minister of Military Affairs.

Demon flame lamps cast shadows on the walls, and the desk made of obsidian stood steadily in the center of the room, exuding an unspeakable majesty.

Flame demon councilor Atlan Hefisi, wearing formal wear, walked in slowly, the ruby on his collar flickering with faint firelight, and the sound of his soft leather shoes stepping on the floor was light and steady. That angular face was covered with flame-like patterns, and his pupils flickered with the scorching brilliance of lava. In the dim light of the room, his figure was like a dormant volcano.

Behind the desk, Prince Kelin, wearing a black military uniform, sat quietly in his chair, his eyes that did not get angry but were majestic sweeping over the person who came, and then continued to read the documents in his hand.

His movements were unhurried, his expression calm, although it was a human face, his momentum completely covered the flame demon councilor in front of him, like a continuous mountain range.

As a demigod-level powerhouse, one of the agents of His Majesty Bayeli's power in the mortal world, and one of the six cabinet ministers, he stood at the pinnacle of Hell in terms of both strength and power.

However, when facing councilor Hefisi who was weaker than him, he did not look down on him like 90% of Steel-tier demons facing ordinary demons, but was quite approachable.

"Please sit, Councilor Hefisi." Kelin said in a steady voice, his fingers tapping the table lightly.

Atlan nodded slightly and sat down in the chair opposite.

He had no pleasantries, but went straight to the point: "The hearing has just ended, I am here to report the progress to you."

"Oh?" Kelin put down the documents in his hand, a flash of interest in his eyes, "How is the situation?"

Atlan sorted out his thoughts slightly and said in a deep voice: "The demon king of the Lei Ming County labyrinth performed more strongly than expected at the hearing. He not only promised to solve the mobility problem of the magic crystal cannons within three months, but also requested the Ministry of Truth to investigate General Saibeisi's dereliction of duty in the Battle of Port Sardo at the end of the hearing. His reason is, uh... to seek justice for the eighty thousand fallen soldiers."

When he said the end, Atlan hesitated, because this was indeed very rare.

Kelin raised his eyebrows lightly, his expression still steady as a mountain. He raised his hand to pick up the silver pipe on the table, lit it casually, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled a wisp of white smoke.

"Oh? He actually dared to mention this..." He chuckled, his tone carrying a bit of banter, "We underestimated him."

Atlan observed Kelin's expression and continued: "Indeed, he acted more decisively than I imagined, not letting the logistics officials lead him by the nose at all, and several times took the initiative to make Deputy Official Hakesi who was making things difficult for him very passive. And, the transformation plan he proposed, 'making the magic crystal cannons move, giving it mobility comparable to abyss war beasts', successfully attracted the attention of many military generals, including me... at least for now, the advantage is on his side."

Of course, the premise is that he can round out the cake he drew at the hearing.

If that guy is just bragging, then he undoubtedly did a stupid thing.

Kelin did not respond immediately, but tapped the pipe slowly, letting the ash fall into the silver tray.

His gaze still stayed on the report in front of him, seemingly not fully invested in the conversation, but Atlan knew that Kelin had always been like this—he didn't need too much language, nor did he need to express his position directly, his silence itself was an attitude.

Atlan paused slightly, his gaze deep: "However, regarding the Battle of Port Sardo... I have to say, there are indeed some strange things about this defeat."

Kelin finally put down the pipe, his fingers crossed together, leaning on the back of the chair, his tone flat and calm: "Speak."

Atlan leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice: "It is true that it was windless weather on the battlefield, and it is feasible for the Imperial Navy to use artillery smoke screens as cover, but the strange thing is that if the smoke screen was really thick enough to completely block the view of the highlands, the Griffin Knights should also not have been able to see, and it would be impossible to accurately raid the artillery position in the thick fog. And even stranger is that not a single goblin artilleryman survived after a battle... I find it hard not to suspect that they might have encountered something before they died."

Both of them had been on the battlefield, and this was the biggest difference from those bureaucrats. They could stand in the position of both the attacker and the defender and see things that could not be seen in the battle report.

Atlan's words had two layers of meaning.

The most intuitive meaning can be understood as the combat mages of the Griffin Knights casting illusion magic on the goblin artillerymen and piercing the defensive barrier of the artillery position across a super long distance.

The second layer of meaning is—

Those artillerymen might have been interfered with from the rear, and even the barrier that protected them from abnormal states at critical moments was canceled.

Kelin was silent for a moment, his fingertips tapping the table lightly, as if thinking, and as if testing the other party's patience. The air in the room seemed to become more oppressive, as if a dormant beast was hidden, which might be awakened at any time.

Finally, he spoke slowly, his voice indifferent and calm.

"I know."

Atlan's pupils shrank slightly. He was not surprised that Kelin already knew the inside story, but the other party's attitude—was too calm.

"So," he tentatively said, "how do you plan to handle it?"

Kelin thought for a while and shook his head.

"Not suitable to make a big deal out of it."

Atlan's eyes changed slightly, and he immediately understood Kelin's meaning—

He didn't want to intervene in this matter!

The reason is actually not hard to guess.

The eighty thousand lives themselves were the result of layer-by-layer addition. In order to attract the attention of the rear, I don't know how many goblins and small demons were mixed in the battle report, and maybe even undead cannon fodder with incomplete souls were counted in.

As the Minister of Military Affairs, Kelin certainly couldn't say that these eighty thousand soldiers were not important, but for demons who truly understood the front line, that was indeed a fraction of a larger battle report, not worth writing about.

As for the equipping of magic crystal cannons promoted by Kelin himself, it would not change because of this hearing, and even the dispute between the Logistics Department and the War Department was just the tip of the iceberg floating on the sea. The real game players were the demon king of Lei Ming County and his political enemies in the Demon Capital from the beginning.

No matter which side of the wrestling parties finally laughed last, the impact was just the distribution of the cake, not the overall situation.

Atlan leaned back on the chair slowly, sighing secretly in his heart.

He certainly understood Kelin's position. After all, Kelin promoted the technical popularization of magic crystal cannons, rather than focusing on the victory or defeat of a specific battle.

For the Minister of Military Affairs of the Cabinet, this matter was just a part of the interest, not the core.

He nodded lightly, did not continue to pursue, but changed to a more relaxed topic: "Speaking of which, Lord Kelin, what is your opinion on this kid Luo Yan?"

Kelin's mouth raised slightly, his tone calm but carrying a trace of playfulness: "An interesting young man."

He stood up, walked to the window of the office, overlooking the gloomy sky in the distance of the Demon Capital, thought for a moment, and said slowly: "He is more decisive than I imagined, and can grasp opportunities better. It doesn't surprise me at all that the Partridge family would choose him. As for strength, it might be a bit weak, but that is the least important thing."

Ordinary people in Hell often look at the strength of supernatural power too heavily, but the real ruling class knows very well that although that thing is important, it is not important in an absolute sense.

That thing is like the exam score of the Demon King Academy.

To put it bluntly, they themselves are "supernatural beings", how can fate be determined by supernatural power?

When he said this, Kelin paused for a moment and said in a half-joking tone.

"To be honest, I even feel that the young lady of the Partridge family is not worthy of him, Vivian is more suitable. If he is willing to marry into the Kelin family, their advantages can just form a complement. Especially this young man is a human who grew up in the temple, haha... I'm just joking, don't say it out, Mr. Partridge and I have a very good relationship."

Atlan was sweating profusely, and said hurriedly.

"I definitely won't say it out..."

Kelin smiled and continued.

"I believe, in short, I am still very optimistic about him."

The cake of the high-mobility magic crystal cannon was drawn for the hearing on the surface, and it was not necessarily not drawn for himself standing behind the hearing.

And to be honest, Kelin was indeed very interested in this, even to the point of being unable to help but want to intervene.

You guys who eat inside and out, why don't you stop fighting first, at least let someone make this thing, okay?

Magic crystal cannons that can move on the battlefield and have defense not inferior to abyss war beasts... he could even imagine what kind of expression the Imperial soldiers would have after seeing it.

Atlan frowned slightly and became serious again.

"Do you think he can hold on? By his own strength?"

"I don't know," Kelin shook his head gently, his eyes carrying a trace of unfathomable smile: "No one can predict the future, and neither can I. I'm just curious... how he plans to deal with the conspiracy against him."

Outside the window, the night of the Demon Capital quietly descended, and the quiet atmosphere spread silently in the room.

Today's night was exceptionally gloomy.

A storm was brewing silently...

Demon Capital, tavern in the slum area.

The gloomy lamp flickered on the ceiling, and the Black Scale Tavern was filled with mixed smells—the spiciness of strong liquor, the residue of sulfur, and the dull atmosphere intertwined with flesh and tobacco.

This is where the veterans of the Demon Capital love to gather.

Like the high-tier demons of the Demon Capital, the demons living at the bottom also have their own ways to relieve loneliness, just not as luxurious and elegant as the former's banquets.

Faded battle flags and broken armor hung upon the filthy walls, as if recounting the lingering echoes of countless brutal battles, while the sounds of clinking glasses and boisterous cursing seemed to reverberate with the war cries of the battlefield.

At this moment, the tavern was full of demons or Hell creatures from all over.

Among them were Hell dwarves with old scars still remaining on their shoulders, demons wearing tattered armor with eyes long smoked yellow by the fire of war, and undead officers who were taciturn with fingers wrapped in bandages.

They were either veterans who survived the battlefield, wounded soldiers abandoned by the war, or just mercenaries who couldn't find work.

However, one point is common.

They all contributed their flesh and blood to the war machine of Hell and had their future swallowed by it.

Because night had just fallen, it was far from the busiest time in the tavern, so the atmosphere in the hall was still a bit stiff.

At this moment, in the corner of the tavern, a goblin waiter was skillfully wiping wine glasses, while a demon bartender on the side was looking up at the newspaper nailed to the wall while wiping the table.

——That was the "Demon Capital Daily" and "Abyss Times" that had just been delivered today.

He glanced at the headline of the "Demon Capital Daily":

【Battle Report of the Battle of Port Sardo—Logistics Department and War Department hold a hearing on the mobility of magic crystal cannons】

He curled his lips.

The same bureaucratic tone as always, a bunch of arguments, shifting responsibility, couldn't find a single word that could make people's blood boil, as if the wrangling in the meeting hall of those bureaucrats could let the military boots of Hell soldiers step on the Old Continent.

"Really hopeless." He shook his head and moved his gaze away, just about to focus on work, but soon his gaze was attracted by the headline of the "Abyss Times" on the side.

【Demon King rebukes bureaucrats for being cowardly and incompetent at the hearing, claiming to seek justice for the eighty thousand fallen soldiers at the front line!】

This sentence was simply like a burning flame, exploding in the cold tavern, bringing a trace of warmth that did not belong to Hell to this small nest in the darkness.

"Justice?"

The bartender couldn't help but mutter.

This vocabulary is too rare in Hell, so much so that when he saw this word, his brain crashed for a moment.

Here, there is only the will of the strong, only the power of the winner, what is right, what is wrong, no one will discuss it at all.

Not to mention the veterans at the front line, any living thing or dead thing growing in Hell knows that disappearing on the battlefield is just a matter of course, no one will argue for you, and no one will investigate the reasons behind it.

Anyway, they will be forgotten soon.

At this time, the sound from behind woke him from his daze.

No errors, no omissions, all content is here!

"Is this true?"

The speaker was a Hell dwarf named Buerge, whose red wine-soaked nose was like an overloaded flame crystal.

This guy is a famous drunkard nearby, and he will appear in this tavern every day regardless of whether he has money or not.

The demon bartender who came back to his senses continued to wipe the table, covering up the momentary loss of composure on his face, and muttered in response without raising his head.

"... It is said that it was an anonymous succubus staff member, probably heard some inside story at the hearing. True or false, judge for yourself."

Buerge didn't speak, just stood silently, finished reading the headline nailed to the wall, then looked at the demon bartender and said.

"Give me a copy... that Abyss Times."

The demon bartender looked up at him in surprise, but soon came back to his senses, hurriedly took a newspaper that had just been delivered not long ago and handed it to Buerge.

These guys rarely pay for anything other than drinks, and today they are willing to buy a newspaper?

Really the crystal dome is bright at night!

Carrying the side dish bought for 5 Kaila, Buerge returned to the wooden table silently.

While pouring inferior beer into his mouth, he looked at the content of the newspaper, and the nose buried in the beard twitched from time to time, as if driving away the flies around the beard.

The guests sitting next to each other looked at each other, and their faces showed unexpected expressions.

A goblin veteran teased.

"Really strange, Buerge, when did you love reading newspapers?"

Buerge looked at the goblin with disgust and sneered.

"I've always read it."

A one-eyed demon hiccuped and mocked.

"What are you looking at those politicians' nonsense for? I can guess that it must be some fart words on it with a wine bottle."

Buerge suddenly laughed out loud.

"Haha! Then I can be sure, you must have guessed wrong this time!"

With two flushes on his face covered with wind and frost, he said loudly, as if he was drunk, although he had just started drinking.

Hearing Buerge's voice, the goblin veterans around looked at each other, jumped off the wine table one after another, and gathered around this smelly Hell dwarf.

Not all of them were literate, but they pieced together the content on the headline one sentence after another.

And when they read that key headline, a goblin couldn't help but sneer.

"'Justice'? Is this Demon King drunk?"

"Seeking justice for the 80,000 fallen soldiers in Port Sardo? Ha, don't be funny, I have lived for more than thirty years, and this is the first time I have heard such ghost talk... speaking of which, 80,000 brothers count as a fart."

"That is, that is!"

Buerge shook his head and muttered.

"A bunch of guys without dreams."

Those goblins didn't listen to what he said, just discussed it in a mess.

However, they discussed, discussed... the wind direction gradually turned 180 degrees again.

"But it was at the hearing of the Society... no newspaper would make up rumors there."

"So what? No matter how much you argue, isn't it still those big figures who make the final decision? You believe this?"

"I don't know, but no one has ever mentioned the word 'justice' before, maybe, this time... is it different?"

Someone muttered in a low voice, and the tavern was silent for a few seconds.

Several veterans looked at each other, their originally playful expressions gradually becoming a bit subtle.

They are not naive young goblins, knowing that many words are just political performances, but this time... it seems not so similar to before.

They have seen countless lords, generals, and councilors. Every time the war fails, they either remain silent, or are busy modifying data in the battle report, or fighting for the attribution of responsibility, but no one has ever stood up at the Society and said—to seek justice for them.

This is ridiculous, ridiculous enough to make people want to laugh, but for some reason, people can't laugh.

In the tavern, a goblin with a bandage on his head and missing an ear licked his lips, his eyes a bit complicated:

"... If it's true, then this Demon King is quite unusual."

"It might be true." A demon said in a low voice, recalling the rumors he heard recently, "The goblins in Black Wind Fort seem to really trust him. Before he came, the entire goblin community was soaked in water, and only he really solved their problem."

Regardless of why the goblin community was soaked in water, in short, this problem was indeed solved by the Demon King.

He had also heard more distant legends.

It is said that in the distant Lei Ming County labyrinth, there lives a group of powerful gnoblars. They butterfly swim in the granary, bathe in beer... even if this is a rumor, at least half of it is true, right?

Hell dwarf Buerge slowly put down the newspaper, he looked up at the half-bottle of strong liquor left, was silent for a few seconds, and then slammed the cup and drank it clean.

Then, he slammed the empty cup on the table and said in a low voice:

"... A toast to the Demon King!"

In an instant, the entire tavern fell into silence, and pairs of strange gazes looked at this strange guy.

It took about half a minute.

A certain undead who had been sitting silently in the corner suddenly spoke.

"Count this cup as mine... a toast to the Demon King! Buerge, drink it for me!"

A commotion spread in the tavern, including Buerge who looked at the undead in surprise.

He didn't know the guy's name, only remembered that on the first day he came to the tavern, that undead had been sitting in the corner of the tavern, no one had ever seen that undead speak, so much so that he suspected whether the undead had forgotten its name and the way home... but didn't expect it to even remember its own name.

The demon bartender brought a bottle of beer to Buerge's side and placed it steadily on the latter's table.

Another half minute passed, a goblin veteran stood up and also raised the cup in his hand.

"Damn it, I also... a toast to the Demon King of Lei Ming County! Not for anything else, just because he is a man, daring to smoke those high-and-mighty masters!"

He seemed to have forgotten that the Demon King was also one of the masters, but it was clear that they were different.

They were arguing in the newspaper!

That sharp-voiced sound was like a match thrown into a coffin, lighting the furnace fire with a bang.

The air in the tavern instantly became dry and hot.

With the first, there was the second, and finally, one cup after another was raised.

"A toast to the Demon King!"

"A toast to his damn 'justice'!"

"I'm done!"

Glass cups and metal cups collided, beer foam spilled on the table, like pus after a scar rotted under the dim candlelight.

In the tavern, those veterans who had experienced the vicissitudes of life smiled, and as they smiled, tears flowed out.

They drank not only wine, but also the souls drowned by those impassioned voices.

Those high-and-mighty guys finally stopped just praising their deaths.

But asked whether their deaths were worth it.

The goblin waiter standing behind the bar looked at the people in the tavern in surprise, and couldn't help but be infected by the emotions overflowing from the beer foam.

This night, the bottom community of the Demon Capital began to spread a story.

The protagonist of the story is not the Chosen One of His Majesty the Demon God, nor is it a great commander...

But a Demon King who had never met.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 241 =====