Chapter Forty-Seven: The Eternal Struggle Between the Sacred and the Demonic (Please continue reading~)

Demon King’s Castle.
Joint Conference Hall.

A scarlet vertical pupil opened on the pitch-black blade, radiating a devouring aura. The demonic sword, covered in terrifying runes, swept its gaze across the hall before emitting an ancient and decaying voice:

"Little Fim, little Miguo, Swell, and even Lady Clementine, hehe... It seems I haven't awakened too late."

"The battle with the Hero Minor nearly twisted my blade into a wreck. I had to soak under the magma volcano for a long time before finally waking up."

"During this time, I suppose nothing major happened, right?"

Without exchanging pleasantries, the Demonic Sword Apophis walked over to take a seat at the long table opposite Fim, quickly entering the meeting agenda.

Sewell glanced at Clementine, then spoke in a methodical voice:

"Utilizing intelligence regarding the Hero Minor, we managed to briefly shatter Prince Ota's spiritual pillar. However, his state of mind is as cold as iron, and he completely ignored the orders to investigate this matter."

"During that period, we organized an operation to sabotage the Magus Round Tower's notes, but it was seen through by the Morning Star of that kingdom, who mocked us with a self-igniting counterfeit."

"Secondly, we attempted to destroy Prince Ota's soul source, but his body is as resilient as gold and stone, recovering as if reborn after just a few days of languishing."

"And largely due to the hindrance of that holy mage Lak, we failed to prevent the Hero's Awakening Ceremony from proceeding normally... The combat capability of the newly appointed hero is projected to be exceptionally formidable. She is the younger sister of the Hero Minor, Shana Lake."

Sitting in his seat, the Demonic Sword paused in slight astonishment for a second or two before speaking:

"I... should have only been asleep for a dozen days, not months, right?"

In such a short span of time, you actually managed to successfully orchestrate so many evil acts of sabotage right within the kingdom's core capital?

And even more absurdly, those humans successfully defended against all of them? Without suffering any impact at all?!

Apophis fell into a daze, feeling as though... the times had truly changed.

"Hehe, I am growing old. The resilience of humans... is genuinely terrifying."

"Lord Apophis." Sewell briefly recapped the topics just discussed in the meeting and inquired:

"The critical issue now is to curb the offensive of Saint Rena. However, regarding the holy artifact she wields, the 'Heart of Ice and Purity', we still lack corresponding intelligence."

"Hmm, I understand." The Demonic Sword Apophis chuckled softly, seeming entirely confident.

Turning his head, he looked at Clementine:

"Leave this interrogation to me, Lady Clementine."

...

The morning light filtered through the bars, falling upon the bed, which radiated a warmth that tempted one toward depravity.

"My Lord, I always feel something is amiss with this hero awakening. According to my perception, the newly awakened sacred artifact is... the Sacred Blade of Fire, Darkfre."

"So? What of it?" Beneath the covers, Minor, who had been awake for two hours, stretched lazily.

He rolled over and went back to sleep.

The Holy Sword Artortai shook its hilt earnestly. "As the holy sword that has accompanied the greatest number of heroes and holds the highest seniority, I know the situation of the sacred artifacts and holy relics within the Holy Cathedral inside and out."

"Among all the sacred artifacts, Darkfre belongs to the introverted and timid category. Only someone with an extremely eccentric personality and an over-inflated ego could summon it."

"Heh!" Minor was somewhat amused, peeking out from under the blankets and sitting up: "There's actually someone like that among the hero candidates."

"That is precisely the problem." Artortai spread its hands in Minor's mind:

"Throughout the entire kingdom, there shouldn't be anyone with an ego more over-inflated than yours!"

"Are you insulting me again?!!"

With a gentle creak, the prison door was pushed open.

A fresh fragrance drifted in alongside a drape of emerald-green pleated skirt. Clementine pushed the door open and entered, her high-waisted silk belt embroidered with clusters of green-apple-colored roses.

Minor looked Clementine up and down, struck by a sudden whimsical thought:

"Are you using different colored roses every day to send signals to aliens?"

"Aliens? What are those?" Clementine blinked, looking perplexed.

"Unknown, never seen them. Perhaps they're right by your side."

"An amusing little joke." Clementine covered her mouth and chuckled softly, her eyes curving slightly: "Are you getting used to living in the Demon King's Castle, Lord Hero?"

"Not bad." Minor lowered his head, earnestly counting on his fingers as he replied: "However, it would be even better if you could provide a maid wake-up service every morning, hold a Rent card tournament every week, subscribe to the 8-copper-coin issue of the *Kul Kingdom Food Weekly*, and serve morning and afternoon tea..."

"You do realize you are currently a prisoner of the Demon King's Castle, right?"

"So?"

"So, next is the interrogation time, Lord Hero." Clementine took a deep breath and said.

In the corner, Artortai shouted with fierce momentum: "Vile demons! Whatever evil interrogation methods you have, unleash them all upon my Lord!"

"Ohhhhh! I love this spirit, Artortai!"

"Anyway, my Lord will definitely confess!"

"Hey!"

Amidst their bickering, Clementine shook her head and turned her gaze toward the corner.

"This time, the target of our interrogation is not you, Minor, but... the Holy Sword Artortai."

The words fell.

A look of astonishment appeared in Minor's eyes.

Artortai's blade came to an abrupt halt.

The prison cell instantly fell silent.

"Interrogation? Me?"

Artortai was stunned for a moment, and the next second, it burst into hearty laughter.

The blade rolled back and forth on the floor in a fit of amusement, "Ha! Haha, interrogation? Me? The sharpest and sturdiest of sacred artifacts, the Holy Sword of Light that has cleaved through countless thorns and brambles?!"

"Stupid grand demons, have you truly run out of options?!"

"Let me tell you, standing before you is the Holy Sword of Light that has accompanied countless generations of heroes in slaying vicious enemies, its blade never once dulling by a fraction! The one who fights on the absolute frontlines of justice!!!"

"Not to mention that countless defensive and mental immunity arrays are engraved upon my body, holding a great ideal, my sacred soul is unshakably steadfast!"

The Holy Sword Artortai raised its proud hilt, its spine-symbolizing blade straightening rigidly at that moment. For a brief second, an aura of boundless heroism surged forth as it laughed loudly:

"Who dares to judge me?!"

"Who can judge me?!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Minor looked at the Holy Sword Artortai, rubbed his chin, and nodded in approval.

Well, aside from anything else, he trusted Artortai's attribute as an indestructible holy sword. Ordinary harsh torture might work on humans, but for a holy sword, it was no different from being tickled.

Is Clementine... completely out of ideas? Minor wore a slightly peculiar expression, yet found the scene strangely familiar.

"Oh?"

Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the prison cell, and a rich, dark aura spread across the room.

"It seems you are quite confident, Artortai." A pitch-black blade appeared before everyone's eyes, accompanied by a cold chuckle.

"It's you, the Demonic Sword, Apophis?!" A tremor crept into Artortai's voice. Whether it was his imagination or not, the proudly upright blade seemed to go somewhat limp.

In the room, the holy sword and the demonic sword gazed at each other. The once bright and sacred atmosphere gradually began to wither.

Nearby, Minor, relegated to a bystander, sat on the bed and吐槽 with a solemn expression:

"I smell the scent of a total surrender..."