Foreign Land Reclamation By a Vegetable-growing Skeleton Chapter 1160

Chapter 1160: Chapter 724: Can the adult give me a punch? Chapter 1160: Chapter 724: Can the adult give me a punch? “Trying to run?” The Little Demon King threw a punch, hoping to explode his opponent.

Ange's left hand flickered with black light, he blocked the Little Demon King's fist and punched the projecting thought from the opponent.

However, Ange's attack didn't seem to hurt the opponent, as the thought successfully shrank back with the remaining force and disappeared without a trace.

The Little Demon King, shocked, looked at Ange's fist and then at his own, hardly believing it–Ange had just blocked his furious attack?

As a powerful Ancient God Hunter, the Little Demon King was confident in his strength, even surpassing that of the Great Devil.

Yet now, his furious punch had been blocked by Ange? He had always thought these plane beings relied on strange skills to ambush him; could it be that their power exceeded his?

But then, the Little Demon King realized something and angrily said, “Why are you stopping me?”

Ange stopped him and then threw a punch himself, trying to show off wasn't like that at all, and it had no effect, letting the opponent slip away.

Ange said, “Projection, explode, useless, find him.”

Negris translated, “That was his projection; even if you explode it, it's useless. It's more important to find his location.”

The Little Demon King said, “How can it be useless? I explode his projection and then go kill all the demons. Without the blood sacrifice, he won't get any energy, right? Can your punch find his location?”

Even the Pink Hem, who found Ange's interruption puzzling, shuddered at this and ears perked up. Was this the Little Demon King's method?

Now looking at Ange differently, excitedly said, “Lord, you've saved the demons of three planes, I'd do anything for you… except math problems.”

Ange nodded.

The Little Demon King froze. What did the nod mean? Kill all the demons?

Negris quickly translated, “Yes, yes, yes, hitting him once can find him. Little Demon, your method is too simple and crude. Killing all demons might work, but what harm does it do to the impostor? At worst, he'll just relocate and start afresh. Are you going to search day by day to kill?”

“Isn't that too easy on him? Who knows what embarrassing things he might have impersonated you doing? Like standing on his hands in a skirt at a crossing, running naked in a bustling market, or playing the erhu and singing love songs under a Cowman Aunt's window–how embarrassing! You can't let him off so easily, can you?”

The Little Demon King was furious, but then paused at the last bit, “A Cowman Aunt? I could do that; it's not embarrassing.”

Negris retorted irritably, “What if it's a Cowman Uncle then?”

The Little Demon King exploded in rage.

After calming the Little Demon King down, Negris turned to Ange and asked, “What happens when you hit him once?”

“Goddess of Beauty Fist,” Ange replied.

The Devil King of Purgatory was panicking; his identity was exposed. He had hidden for over a hundred thousand years, impersonating the Devil King of Purgatory, relying on the blood sacrifices of demons to accumulate power, enjoying freedom and comfort, only to be unexpectedly exposed and fall into the hands of the Little Demon King.

All it would have taken was not to directly clash with the Little Demon King, and his chance of exposure would have been tiny.

Demon blood sacrifices, feeding power to the Devil King of Purgatory, seemed a fine thing, right? The Little Demon King might not receive it because, as an Ancient God, he disdained these powered beliefs, maybe they just dispersed?

Who would have thought he, the middleman, would consume all the power?

Even if someone told him directly about the blood sacrifice, the Little Demon King would likely remain unsuspecting, deeming the blood sacrifice useless and advising not to bother next time.

Even if demons temporarily followed the Little Demon King's orders to halt the blood sacrifices, after a few years, once things cooled down, he could just impersonate again and easily restart the sacrifices.

However, what he had never anticipated happened; he had collided head-on with the Little Demon King without any defenses, all because of a horse cursing him?

“Kvada, whose horse is that? Its mouth stinks too much; don't let me catch it, or I'll stuff all the filthy things into its mouth,” the faux Devil King of Purgatory muttered.

Now that his existence had been exposed, the Little Demon King certainly wouldn't let it go, but then again, the enemy couldn't find him. What would they do when the time came?

“They'll probably gather all the demons to help them search,” the faux Devil King of Purgatory muttered, having no idea that the Little Demon King's method would be much simpler and more direct: “Thankfully, I've always been a demon.”

While speaking, the faux Devil King of Purgatory rose from his throne and walked to the platform in front, gazing into the distant Void.

From this raised platform, one could see a majestic palace, featuring a towering main hall surrounded by concentric auxiliary halls, corridors, and the like, forming a very complex and ingenious architectural complex.

The Goddess of Beauty would recognize this place; it was the largest among the three great Demon Abysses–the Blood Pool Demon Palace of the Blood-colored Abyss.

The other identity of the faux Devil King of Purgatory was indeed the Blood-consuming Monarch, Kelerite.

Looking at the pitch-black Void and pondering all the possible changes, Kelerite finally revealed a smile: “Even if you truly discover my identity, it's no big deal. Ancient God Hunter? Hah, I wonder if you can withstand a single blast from my Blood Pool Demon Palace.”

At this, Kelerite snapped his fingers, and a spark burst from between them, spreading some sort of message.

Soon after, a group of high-level devils and Great Demons flooded in: “We greet the Monarch.”

Among the high-level devils and Great Demons were several Lava Demons, some looking almost identical to Turus.

Kelerite waved his hand: “This time, I want to expand the scale of the blood sacrifice, offering up more flesh and blood to seek protection from the Devil King. Do any of you have objections?”

The other demons uniformly shook their heads, one Big Head Demon asking, “Monarch, to what scale should we expand?”

Kelerite answered, “All of it, sacrifice all the elves and humans.”

“Ah? All of it?” The demons were instantly abuzz with surprise.

If it were just about expanding the scale, that'd be understandable–every several decades, as the number of slaves increased, they'd increase the sacrifice's scale; this was common. But sacrificing them all? What about the future?

The Big Head Demon hastily asked, “All of it? So would there be no more blood sacrifices after this?”

“It's fine, we'll just capture more when the time comes. Those elves and humans are everywhere outside; just catch more and continue raising them,” Kelerite said.

“But…” The Big Head Demon seemed to want to say more.

Kelerite then burst his big head with one squeeze of his claw and cheerily turned to the other demons:
“I know that raising creatures for a long time can lead to attachments, making it tough to sacrifice some. I'll allow each of you to keep about twenty or so; offer up the rest. I don't want sentimental feelings to lead you to defy my will, understand?”

Watching the headless corpse of the Big Head Demon, all the other demons nodded their heads faster than pecking chickens.

Several dozen kilometers away from the Demon Palace, in a city, a pink hem spontaneously began to swirl, and as it settled, a group of people and a horse appeared.

The Goddess of Beauty sighed in relief, “Thank goodness, it was almost too much for my skirt.”

Negris quipped, “I've ridden through Teleportation Arrays, Space Gates, World Transfer Stations, World Passages, but I never thought I'd one day travel through space under someone's skirt.”

The Goddess of Beauty threw a coquettish glance at Anthony but dared not say more; the Little Demon King was already fuming and it was better to focus on the matter at hand.

“This is the Blood-colored Abyss. I've already sent back orders–the Pink Abyss has stopped the blood sacrifices and is always on the lookout for anyone suddenly becoming more beautiful. Another one, the Abyss of Fallen, I've also taken care of. Only the Blood-colored Abyss I haven't managed to infiltrate,” the Pink Hem said.

The Little Demon King still found it somewhat unbelievable, “So you're saying, from that one punch of the 'Lord,' it will make it temporarily prettier, and as long as we find the people who have turned beautiful quite suddenly, we can find that impostor?”

Negris and the others nodded in agreement.

The Little Demon King was still half in doubt, but the Pink Hem leaned closer, whispering to Anthony, “Is it really that magical? Could the Lord punch me too?”

Chapter end

Report