Kobold Wizard's Journal

Chapter 487 Destruction and Rebirth

The low-hanging sky, the restless demons, and the endless expanse of the sky, filled only with the pungent smell of blood and stench.

Ruger stood there, and for a moment, fragmented sentences popped into his mind to describe his feelings. It was as if he were being squeezed by the entire world, with more and more demons gathering, stretching as far as the eye could see. And he was just one of them. He could feel the heartbeats around him, feel the demons trembling uneasy. The four-legged demons would lift their feet and then put them down from time to time. The crowding and stench seemed to connect them into a whole, including him. He took a deep breath, his chest filled with the stench and the smell of blood, as if his heart was beating along with them.

The concept of time has been abandoned. Unlike the oppressive and suffocating feeling of gazing at the abyss sky, standing in the boundless horde of demons, they have become one with each other, as if their minds have stopped working and they are no longer able to think clearly. They wait in place together, and then unconsciously follow the waves of demons, completely unaware of how much time has passed.

After walking a long way and for a long time, the demons gradually distanced themselves from each other.

The stench of blood and decay that surrounded Luger, along with the constant pounding of his heart, was torn open, allowing him to regain his senses and catch his breath.

It was an incredibly strange experience; he had never imagined he would feel this way, nor had he ever been in such a large group.

As Ruger walked, he looked around. There were about seventy demons gathered around him, and they would change their positions as he walked.

The two-headed demon on his left looks similar.

The old demon was behind him, just like before, except that there were even more demons gathered there; at a glance, there were probably over a thousand.

The emotionally stable Mahama remains the old man's mount.

Luger tilted his head, observing his surroundings.

Demons like the Old Demon, who are like blood dominoes, not only gather demons themselves, but also lead at least a dozen demons like him. In other words, a huge demon army with a clear hierarchy has been gathered around the Old Demon.

Looking around, there are many, many beings like the old demon, and even more beings of higher rank. In the demon's words, there are many, many beings with even bigger fists.

At the same time, being around them seemed to be a level in itself, with many strange and grotesque demons walking haphazardly on both sides, some trying to squeeze in, while others walked silently and consciously.

The seemingly endless procession was incredibly awe-inspiring, as if the bloodthirsty aura emanating from the demons was about to twist into a rope and soar into the sky. As the demons moved forward in a loose yet orderly fashion, more demons came from all directions to join them.

Luger looked at the demons who didn't push forward and found it very interesting—the so-called demon war pattern.

These four-legged little creatures, running merrily, are practically self-sufficient, able to keep up with the logistics of the column. They sense the lord's call and follow along, becoming food for the column when needed, and needing no care at all otherwise. They're perfect—they drink blood when thirsty and eat meat when hungry.

Of course, in every war, some of these stupid and weak demons will successfully transform and escape ignorance. Those who are too lucky may even gain extremely powerful strength. Such changes in fate are inevitable on the demon battlefield, and this has happened every time.

The demons walked sparsely, seemingly tireless.

"Without wizards, relying solely on ordinary superhumans, humanity would never be a match for the demon army in war," Ruger sighed inexplicably.

The momentary, inexplicable feeling quickly passed. Luger glanced at the two-headed demon in the distance who had also found a mount, but after thinking for a moment, he made no move and continued to use his feet to feel the earth between the 751st floor of the abyss.

He recalled that he seemed to have never met the demon lord he served. Ruger scratched his chin, and taking advantage of the chaotic atmosphere among the demon army, he twitched his fingers and summoned a single spirit hair. This was not an ordinary spirit hair, nor was it the great spirit hair god, Miscellaneous Hair Number One, who loved all spirit hairs. It was a demon, or as Miscellaneous Hair Number One put it, the valiant and composed Black Knight Spirit Hair Demon Number One.

To put it simply, this guy likes to daydream and doesn't like to talk.

But Black Knight Demon Number One is not stupid. Its intelligence ranks among the top in the current group of spirit beasts. After it came out, it did not randomly emit mental energy fluctuations, but quietly hid in Luger's body, being extremely obedient.

The demon army continued its march day and night.

The appearance of the Spirit Hair Demon I added a touch of fun to Ruger's life.

He observed the changes in himself, and also the changes in the valiant Black Knight, Demon One.

Strictly speaking, he was an imposter; the Black Knight was the real demon, a mutant demon among mutant demons, perhaps even the only one of its kind in the world. If the wizard Zorn had transformed the fairies he had tricked into demons, then there would be some similarities between the two, but the Black Knight's unique nature would be absolutely one of a kind: the demonization of a single spirit hair.

As the group moved forward, Luger once again witnessed the terror of the demon lord.

It can gather countless demons here, and keep these chaotic creatures moving forward without stopping to eat, since demons won't starve to death easily anyway.

And this was not yet a true lord.

He is just one of the few competing in this tier.

Of course, demons are always tearing each other apart within the rules, yet there are no rules at all. They are born into the rules, yet they are in utter chaos. Perhaps their fists are the only thing they can think of worth obeying for even a moment.

Some demons will simply grab any lesser demons walking by and stuff them into their mouths, without stopping during this process.

Ruger glanced back. In this situation, at least Mahama was safe as the old demon's mount, perhaps even safer than him.

Scattered demons, like converging streams, flow into the vast ocean of demons.

As Luger teased the spirit hair, he was swept along by the waves, as if being pushed forward.

It's accurate to say that they were moving forward day and night, because there is no distinction between day and night in the abyss except for a few special levels.

Demons in the abyss have no concept of time; everything is chaotic. They wander aimlessly, simply following their instincts. This is the early stage of most ordinary demons, and it is only at the moment of their metamorphosis that things begin to change slightly.

For them, war, which represents death and destruction, represents transformation and rebirth.

(End of this chapter)