C1 The Weakest Great Demon King Clan in History

This cavern was an immense subterranean grotto.

Countless stalactites hung from above, resembling the fearsome fangs of giant beasts. Embedded in the cave's walls were chunks of dark green, semi-translucent crystals, each the size of a fist, casting an eerie green glow that shrouded the grotto in a sinister ambiance.

Over a hundred individuals were seated in meditation, their garments mere tatters barely clinging to their bodies.

Yet, the most striking feature was not their attire but the horns on their heads. Each person, regardless of age or gender, sported a pair of horns.

These horns curved like crescent moons, ivory-white and etched with spiral grooves.

Zhang Heng gazed around in astonishment and trepidation, his eyes twitching uncontrollably as he inwardly ranted, "Have I somehow crossed over into the world of Pleasant Goat? Why does everyone have goat horns?"

With that thought, Zhang Heng couldn't resist reaching out to tug at the horn of a young man beside him.

"Surprisingly solid. I can't even pull it off."

Zhang Heng marveled at the vividness of this dream.

He then noticed the young man turning to him with a look of annoyance, babbling away.

Zhang Heng was certain the language was foreign to him, yet he understood every word.

"Quit it, Zhang Heng. The fearsome human braves are annihilating our kind. The treacherous demons have reneged on our alliance, and our Demon King Clan is teetering on the brink of extinction. The elders are about to make a crucial announcement for our survival. Can't you keep still for just a moment?"

That was the gist of the young man's speech.

Human braves... formidable and mighty?

The Demon King Clan reduced to being hunted by humans, facing the direst of straits?

This was absurd.

"This place isn't the den of Pleasant Goat; it's the domain of the Demon Clan. Ah, the horns of the Demon Clan. This concept is spot on."

Zhang Heng's face was blank as he remembered his little brother's words. Suddenly, as if possessed, he touched his forehead and froze for exactly 3.3 seconds. Internally, he began to rant, "I can't believe it, I've grown horns just like them!"

"Hey, hey, is this dream using the wrong script? I'm clearly human, so how did I end up as a Demon King? This dream is way off base!"

"And since when isn't the Demon Human Clan the big boss in every story? When have they not thoroughly thrashed the human protagonists before reluctantly logging off to collect their boxed lunches?"

"How come the Demon Human Clan looks so down on their luck now that it's my turn?"

While Zhang Heng was bewildered by his wild thoughts, the little brother beside him suddenly tapped his horn and whispered, "Watch out, Zhang Heng. The elder is coming. We're not exactly favorites as half-human, half-demon hybrids. Don't give him any reason to come after you."

"Don't worry about it," Zhang Heng replied nonchalantly, thinking to himself, "It's all just a dream, yet it feels so real. Am I really trying to fool myself?"

At that moment, the little brother and everyone else around straightened up, sitting with rigid posture.

From behind the high platform in front of them, a demon elder emerged. His horns curved like massive scythes, and his white hair was neatly combed back. A braided beard hung from his chin, and he leaned on a staff crafted from some beast's bone as he made his way onto the platform.

This was the elder the little brother had mentioned.

Observing the elder's robe—still intact but patched—Zhang Heng mused to himself, "This garment is a step up from what the others wear. Well, it's at least good enough to run for the head of the Beggar Gang."

With a loud thud, the demon elder struck the ground with his bone staff, silencing the cavern.

Then, in a tone heavy with sorrow, the elder began his address, "Five years ago, in the Western Region of the Human Pofreyae, the Demon City in the Black Sand Region was completed. My demon brethren and I were full of ambition, but less than a month after moving in, we were raided by human braves an average of 1.3 times a day. Within a year, our clan lost 60,000 brothers..."

"May the Devil Emperor bless us! Those spineless demons claim we're beyond salvation and suggest we surrender to the humans, but I disagree. Our destiny should be in our own hands. You are the youngest among us, with the least amount of demonic energy, making you the best candidates to masquerade as humans and infiltrate the Valiantheart Academy..."

Zhang Heng watched the Demon Elder's impassioned speech from below the stage, his face a picture of bewilderment. "What in the world—A demonic twist on 'Infernal Affairs'?"

To what extent had the humans oppressed the Demon race for them to resort to such a desperate strategy?

And why did this dream seem to be growing more vivid by the moment?

Onstage, the Demon Elder tapped his bone staff again, and two brawny Demon warriors stepped forward.

Together, they hoisted a colossal cauldron.

The cauldron was as large as a hillock.

Inside, a black, viscous liquid bubbled away, producing sinister, shiny bubbles and emitting an indescribably odd and foul odor.

Zhang Heng watched as the warriors set down the cauldron and brought over a stack of large bowls.

They ladled the mysterious liquid from the cauldron into each bowl.

The warriors then distributed the bowls, brimming with the unknown substance, to the seated Demon race members below the stage.

Once everyone had a bowl of the enigmatic liquid before them, the Elder spoke again, "This is the Devil Devouring Soup, concocted with the collective might of our race. Drink it, and for half a month, you'll be able to conceal your demonic essence and assume human form, undetectable by humans."

"The Valiantheart Academy is currently welcoming new students. If you can gain admission within half a month and learn the human cultivation techniques, you'll be able to blend seamlessly into the human world. You might even rise to become a formidable and esteemed Valianthe. No longer will you need to live in fear of being hunted by human braves, constantly on the run and hiding in the shadows..."

"Drink this bowl of soup, and you will become a brave of the human race. If you choose not to, I won't hold it against you. Now, the choice of your path is yours to make."

With these words, the elder, clutching his bone staff, gazed down expressionlessly at the assembly below the platform. Flanking him, two demon warriors stood, their faces equally devoid of emotion as they surveyed the crowd with icy stares.

Below the platform.

Zhang Heng eyed the bubbling Devil Devouring Soup before him, its odd, foul stench wafting up from the bursting bubbles. He silently scoffed, "They have the nerve to present this slop? Even my dog wouldn't sniff at it, yet this old man expects me to drink it!"

"To drink or not to drink?"

Suddenly, a tall, gaunt demon to his left spoke up, "Elder, I would prefer to stand guard by everyone's side, to share in life and death with the elder and my demon brethren through thick and thin. I..."

"So, you've decided not to drink?" The tall, gaunt demon was about to continue, but the elder cut him off mid-sentence.

Biting his lip, the demon finally spoke, "Elder, I ask for your forgiveness."

"I don't blame you," the elder said, casting a glance at the tall, gaunt demon, his voice as cold as his impassive face.

As he spoke, a demon warrior who had been standing on the platform silently appeared behind the tall, gaunt demon.

The demon, feeling relieved at the elder's words, bowed deeply in gratitude.

But as he bowed, a sharp bone blade thrust from behind him, protruding through his chest.

With a slight twist of the bone blade, something inside the demon seemed to rupture.

Dark red blood began to pour from his nostrils, eyes, ears, mouth, and the wound itself.

In an instant, the tall, gaunt demon was devoid of life.

The elder's eyes narrowed, his gaze serpent-like and somber as he stared at the lifeless face of the demon, his demeanor detached as he murmured, "I don't blame you. I never blame the dead."

Below the platform, the demon warrior nonchalantly flicked his bone-blade hand, and the body of the tall, gaunt demon was discarded into the corner like a lifeless hound.

Blood from the tall and skinny demon splattered wildly, drenching Zhang Heng's face.

The instant the blood touched him, Zhang Heng's face contorted in horror. "No! Why is the blood still warm? This can't be just a dream; it's too vivid!"

"Could it be that I've actually transmigrated?"

On the platform, the elder's gaze swept over the crowd. Zhang Heng couldn't tell if it was his imagination, but it seemed like the elder's eyes lingered on his face unusually long.

Then, the elder addressed everyone with a congenial tone, "Any more questions?"

Next to the elder stood the warrior who had slain the tall demon, his pale bone blade still dripping blood.

Witnessing this, Zhang Heng, along with the other demons below, shook their heads to show they had no further questions. They even boasted they could down three large bowls of Devil Devouring Soup in one breath without gasping for air.

"Very well, I wish you all smooth sailing at the Valiantheart Academy! A toast to you, brave ones!"

The elder, seemingly out of nowhere, produced a wine glass and raised it with a flourish.

Below, Zhang Heng and the others lifted their bowls, gulping down the tar-like Devil Devouring Soup, feigning eagerness and desperate thirst.

At that moment, Zhang Heng stopped his complaints. He was sweating profusely, drops springing forth like post-rain bamboo shoots, but he didn't bother to wipe them away, instead muttering to himself, "I'm done for, truly done for this time! I, Zhang Heng, have actually transmigrated! As a human, I've ended up in the body of a demon, and now I'm being coerced into spying on the human race."

As someone who barely scraped by in kindergarten math, the thought of his complex and embarrassing situation was overwhelming for Zhang Heng.

Just then, a bone-chilling scream echoed through the cavern.

Zhang Heng looked in its direction and saw at least a dozen people lying on the ground, writhing in agony.

Their bodies turned pitch black, and more bizarrely, it seemed as if an invisible maw beneath their skin was consuming their flesh and blood.

Their figures were rapidly withering away before his eyes.

In no time at all, these individuals had become emaciated, lifeless husks.

The individuals before me clearly couldn't endure the potent effects of the Devil Devouring Soup. It had consumed not only the demonic energies within them but also their very life essences, leaving nothing behind.

Gazing upon the dozen or so withered, pitch-black demon corpses strewn across the ground, the elder on the stage let out a sigh. With a voice laden with boundless sorrow and resolve, he declared, "What joy is there in living? What hardship is there in dying? The ascent of our demon kind is the sole desire of my life!"

Upon hearing these words, the faces of the others grew somber, and they chanted in unison, "What joy is there in living? What hardship is there in dying? The ascent of our demon kind is the sole desire of my life!"

Their voices echoed powerfully through the vast cavern.

Zhang Heng remarked, "I feel like I've stumbled into an incredibly intense multi-level marketing scheme."

Ten days later.

Only five days remained until the effects of the Devil Devouring Soup would fade.

It was the 14th of June in the year 995 of the Pofreyae Era.

In the Western Territories of the Pofreyae Empire, within the Lanta Protectorate, the Valiantheart Academy stood proudly on the banks of the Crystalflow River near Elmaserine.

The grand white jade arches rose high at the academy's entrance, exuding grandeur.

As it was the season for new student enrollment, numerous hopefuls had flocked to the academy, each aspiring to join and become a human brave, a slayer of demons and devils.

At that moment, Zhang Heng, the very target of such demon-slaying ambitions, stood amidst the bustling throng, his arms crossed as he gazed up at the imposing Valiantheart Academy of Lanta. He silently affirmed, "Valiantheart Academy of Lanta, I have arrived. I believe this day will go down in history."

Yet even he was uncertain about how humanity would remember him in the future.

Would he be remembered as the protector of the human race?

Or as its destroyer?