Chapter 162 The True Lord of Demons

Geraint held his lance ready to guard the flanks, while Gary sat at the front of the carriage acting as the coachman, and the party slowly entered the territory of the Horse Tamers.

Yeran and Qianlong followed behind.

"This Geraint was once the young prince of the Fire Kingdom, known as the 'Red Flame Knight'. Alongside the Crimson Lotus Knight Alfart, he was hailed as one of the Twin Heroes of the Fifteenth District. The Fire Kingdom was reduced to ashes in a surprise attack by the Bone-Swallower death warriors, and he was the sole survivor of the entire royal family. If Charly hadn't rescued him, he would most likely be dead by now," Qianlong recounted the past in a smooth, unhurried tone.

Yeran asked in astonishment, "Senior, how do you come to know such things?"

Qianlong chuckled and said, "In my early years, I crossed the gray zone and traveled through various nations. I know anyone with even a sliver of reputation in these parts, let alone a fellow of equal renown to the Crimson Lotus Knight."

"Ah, come to think of it, Alfart's initial rise to fame was actually thanks to Geraint. After all, the man was the young prince of the Fire Kingdom, an idol in the hearts of countless maidens."

"And now, wearing the mask of redemption and leading the demon hunters specifically against the Horse Tamers, Geraint is probably even stronger than Alfart. See that steed of his? That is the Crimson Flame Steed, capable of walking freely across volcanic craters, far outmatching Alfart's giant dragon..."

"Cough, cough. I mean, how did you find out about Charly saving him?" Yeran asked, catching a sudden bout of gossip-driven curiosity.

Qianlong let out a knowing, muffled laugh. "Speaking of that, it was quite a coincidence. When I was traveling through the various nations, Her Excellency the Divine Envoy had just received the legacy of the previous Heavenly Origin Divine Envoy. We traveled together for a period."

He smiled somewhat lewdly, but quickly reined it in. Pulling back the curtain, he looked at Geraint, who sat upright on his horse beside the leading carriage, and said, "Come to think of it, it's roughly the second anniversary of the fall of the Fire Kingdom now."

"Hey, Senior, don't pull my leg. Who calls it a 'second anniversary of the fall of a kingdom'? Shouldn't it be called a national memorial day?"

"Fine, let's call it that instead. In short, Geraint harbors deep feelings for Her Excellency the Divine Envoy. Back then, when he was gravely injured, the Divine Envoy tended to him meticulously for a full two months. You know, for a young prince who had lost his home, his country, and his innocence, what remained most unforgettable was a gentle and dignified woman like Her Excellency the Divine Envoy."

Yeran burst out laughing. "Gentle and dignified? Her? Senior, stop joking with me."

Qianlong shrugged. The kid clearly failed to grasp the deeper meaning behind his words, so he added, "Pity though. Although Her Excellency the Divine Envoy may seem rather carefree on the surface, she is actually exceptionally clear-headed. Geraint's affection is destined to find no place to rest."

"Oh~" This time Yeran caught the drift. A thought stirred in his heart and a sudden realization flashed through his mind, but he immediately shook his head and cast the notion aside. That was simply too mind-boggling to contemplate...

The wasteland stretched out boundlessly, and before long, they once again encountered the wild raiders of the Horse Tamers, who roamed in small groups to plunder passing travelers and caravans.

It was evident that Geraint and Gary still held considerable weight in the hearts of the Horse Tamers. The fearless and fiercely valiant Horse Tamers all wore expressions of apprehension upon catching sight of them.

Soon enough, they crossed paths with the "Supreme Demon Lord" Attila and his death warriors.

It happened near a cluster of tents close to the wasteland marshes. As if guided by a shared intuition, a towering giant nearly three meters tall, resembling an iron pagoda from afar, walked out of a tent dressed in a bathrobe, gazing intently at Geraint from a distance.

"Is that Attila? So towering!"

Both Qianlong and Yeran stared at the bronze-skinned giant whose muscles were as hard as iron, enveloped entirely in a yellowish-brown aura.

For the very first time, Yeran felt that someone's physical strength might actually surpass his own.

The man known as the "Supreme Demon Lord" possessed a chilling aura simply by standing there, making it feel as though no one else existed within the vast expanse of heaven and earth.

The group of tall, muscular men standing outside the tent were naturally his death warriors. Every single one of the nearly twenty death warriors stood close to two meters in height. Though they intentionally restrained themselves, Yeran could still perceive the reddish aura roiling within their bodies.

They exuded the absolute resolve of do-or-die soldiers.

Yeran estimated inwardly that these death warriors were at the very least on the same tier as Qianlong.

A robed wizard was bowing low beside Attila, murmuring something while casting furtive glances at Yeran.

Qianlong sighed and said, "The title of 'Supreme Demon Lord' is truly well-earned. This man was born to be a warrior and a leader. Do you see that wizard beside him? Every single one of those death warriors was forged by his hands. Once his sorcery reaches maturity and he manufactures even more death warriors using witchcraft, I'm afraid no one in the gray zone will be able to contend with these Bone-Swallowers."

"Witchcraft? Modification?"

Qianlong shrugged. "Similar to the methods used by those madmen east of the Yobo Wastelands in the New Species Forbidden Zone to create bizarre entities, though it remains to be seen who will go further—the wizard or those madmen."

As they spoke, both men watched as the "Supreme Demon Lord" Attila extended his right hand.

A muscular death warrior respectfully handed him a massive bow measuring a full two meters in length. Attila casually picked up a nearly three-meter-long heavy lance from an iron rack nearby and nocked it onto the bowstring.

"What the hell..."

None of them expected him to make such a ferocious move, and both Yeran and Qianlong instantly tensed up.

*Clang-crack!*

Yet, before they could even react, Attila drew the bow to a full moon and loosed two heavy lances simultaneously. One hurtled straight toward Geraint, while the other headed directly for Yeran. The two lances tore through the void, emitting a cracking sound as if igniting the air itself. The airflow along their path could be clearly seen distorting in their wake.

*Clang, clang, clang!*

Gary the swift-swordsman dashed out first, his curved blade and rapid slashes hacking continuously at the projectile. Sparks flew in a cascade from the lance as he barely managed to alter its trajectory. Geraint spurred his horse forward to deliver a follow-up strike, causing black and red flames to detonate in mid-air and scatter brilliant trailing embers. Even so, the heavy lance did not break; instead, with a loud *boom*, it embedded itself deeply into the earth beside Geraint, blasting out a massive crater.

The second lance grazed Yeran's cheek as it shot toward him.

With a cold snort, Yeran stepped down from the carriage. Red aura erupted, pitch-black characters intersected and spun around him, and four bloody steele pillars materialized before his chest. The blood-red moon on his forehead simultaneously opened, and his presence surged to its absolute peak in an instant.

He thrust his heavy lance forward, striking the very tip of the incoming projectile. *Boom, boom, boom!* This clash was even more intense than Geraint's. Yeran was forced backward step by step under the overwhelming pressure, yet under the suppression of his aura, the heavy lance itself disintegrated continuously, rapidly turning to ash from shaft to tip. After retreating ten paces, Yeran stabilized his stance, shook the heavy lance in his hand, and another thunderous explosion echoed through the air as Attila's lance completely vanished into nothingness.

Blood dripped from the web of Yeran's thumb.

"Hahaha! Ugoda!"

Attila smiled with satisfaction and handed the giant bow back to the death warrior beside him.

The wizard also beamed with delight. He knew that "Ugoda" in the language of the Horse Tamers signified a true warrior—the highest form of praise among them. To receive such acclaim from Attila meant that this person's caliber was undoubtedly exceptional.

"Supreme Lord, this young man possesses innate divine strength and peerless valor. If my eyes do not deceive me, he is very likely a descendant of the Blood Moon lineage. If we capture him and forge him into a death warrior, heh heh heh, he will surely far surpass these semi-finished products."

With that, he cast a look toward Yeran, his eyes gleaming with greed.