Chapter 261

To the north of the Citadel Republic, beyond the sea known as Kanthera, lies the land now called the Demon Emperor’s Empire, once known as the Demon World. In the past, when numerous Demon Kings roamed, it was not called the Demon Emperor’s Empire but the Demon World, a place that brought tears to countless children across the continent.

The tales of demons kidnapping children in the dead of night have spread so widely that their origins are now hard to trace. The belief that demons would harm one’s family is universal among humans, regardless of status or class.

But upon reflection, the demons have their own land, the Demon World. Why would they meddle in the continent, their neighbor’s land, when they could focus on developing and advancing their own?

The reason is simple: the Demon World is a place so horrifically inhospitable that development and progress are nearly impossible.

“Ugh, it’s cold. So cold. My bones feel like they’re turning to powder. Even after five years of service here, I still can’t get used to the Arctic winds.”

The territory is vast, comparable to several ordinary kingdoms combined, but the problem is that most of it is barren and useless. The southern part, which makes up about a third of the Demon World, is the infamous Sandear Desert, the largest desert on the continent.

The environmental conditions here are even harsher than the Eastern Plains, with years passing without a single drop of rain. Thus, neither demons nor any other creatures can survive. Even the hardy creatures adapted to dry environments have perished.

This place, devoid of even the palm trees and cacti one associates with deserts, is the most lifeless land in the world, a true wasteland. And the remaining two-thirds of the land aren’t much better.

The northern part of the Demon World isn’t directly connected to the Arctic, but it borders the Arctic Ocean.

“What can we do? The Arctic winds blow straight through here. We just have to endure.”

Unlike the Eastern Plains, where the Kalkanmir Mountain Range blocks the cold from the Arctic, the northern part of the Demon World has no such barrier. The Arctic cold strikes directly through the Arctic Ocean.

Thus, the northern part of the Demon Emperor’s Empire remains a permafrost zone, with development progressing at a snail’s pace. No one thinks of farming or herding here. This is a land forsaken by heaven and gods, a place where one could easily freeze to death.

“What is Her Majesty the Demon Emperor thinking? She wants to wage war to seize human lands, but when will that war happen? Instead of attacking the Empire, we’re supporting it. Does that make any sense?”

“Hey, watch your mouth. Some things shouldn’t be said aloud. We lowly soldiers just follow orders and collect our pay.”

Every demon, from Emperor Harmail to the lowliest soldier, knows how barren and desolate the Demon World is. The southern part is unbearably hot, the northern part freezing cold, and the middle third alternates between hot and cold, much like the Eastern Plains. At least farming and herding are possible here, which is some consolation. Most demons live in this area.

They don’t live here by choice. Their ancestors were driven here after losing a power struggle with humans. The beastfolk of the Eastern Plains may not like where they live, but to the demons, their complaints seem trivial. Compared to the Demon World, the Eastern Plains are livable.

Living in such harsh conditions is neither easy nor worthwhile. The demons pride themselves on their resilience, believing that their constant struggle makes them stronger than humans, who are complacent in their fertile lands. Even a lowly soldier takes pride in their martial prowess.

But the higher-ups in the Demon World are well aware of the gap between themselves and humans. Constant hardship doesn’t necessarily translate to strength. Just a few years ago, Yurinel Larkponsia of the human race ravaged the entire Demon World.

Humans have a vastly larger population and resources. The demons have tried several times to reclaim their lost ancestral lands but have always failed. They can dominate humans briefly, but once humans rally, the demons are no match.

“Ha, who doesn’t know that? It’s just frustrating. We had the Hero, the Hero! And we just let her go? I can’t understand it, even if it was a decision from above.”

In the north of the Demon World, in the frozen wasteland, stands a large building. This prison, Alkameth, operates in extreme cold and is the workplace of these two soldiers and a notorious exile site. Once imprisoned here, one either dies or is released as a cripple.

After Harmail took power, she established this prison to assert her authority. The Hero Party was once imprisoned here. The man with the goat-like beard is angry because Yurinel, the Hero, was once in his grasp.

To the rulers of the Demon Emperor’s Empire, he is just a lowly functionary, but to the prisoners, he is like a king. He once smiled at the thought of torturing the Hero and her companions.

But then, the higher-ups ordered the Hero Party to be left alone. Though he acts like a king to the prisoners, he knows he holds no real authority. To those above, his life is as insignificant as a fly’s. He dared not defy their orders, even if it meant holding onto a prize without consuming it.

“If you don’t understand, what can you do? If you publicly defy an order from above, your home will be here from now on. Do you want to ruin your life?”

“Ahem!”

Defiance would mean death or becoming another prisoner. A guard turned prisoner would face a grim fate.

The man changed the subject with a cough.

“By the way, what’s with this damn vibration? At first, it was loud, but now it’s just annoying. Did all those people shouting about the end of the world die? I haven’t seen them lately.”

“Even our pigs are indifferent now. At first, they were startled, but now they just enjoy the vibrations.”

The two guards, sipping warm tea and chatting, have nothing to guard. Who would come to this frozen wasteland to steal anything? When the Hero Party was here, the prison was heavily guarded.

But not anymore. The guards have relaxed, knowing that any escaping prisoners would either freeze or starve. Nothing grows in this frozen land.

Without the rations, there’s no way to fill one’s stomach. The prisoners know that escape is futile. The guards fear nothing but unexpected inspections. They even started drinking on duty.

“Is the warden not coming back today?”

“Of course not. He’s in the capital, trying to curry favor with the powerful, hoping for a better position. Do you think he cares about this place?”

Sitting on the watchtower, originally built to monitor escaping prisoners, they drink cold beer while watching the Arctic Ocean and the drifting ice. The anger in their hearts washes away.

One guard, already drunk, blinked at the island looming in the distance. His vision was blurry, and his face was flushed.

“Did I drink too much? Why does that island look so close today?”

“You can’t hold your liquor. I knew you were drunk from the first sip. Islands don’t have legs; they can’t get closer.”

The other guard, still somewhat sober, laughed and rubbed his eyes.

“Maybe I drank too much too. Why am I getting drunk so fast?”

Was the island always that big? Or was it the alcohol?

Though still too far to see clearly, the island seemed to be moving slightly. The guard put down his glass, his enjoyment of the drink gone.

“Hey, drink in moderation. I’m going to bed. You’re too young to be like this. Back in the day, I drank beer by the barrel.”

“You’re really drunk, spouting nonsense.”

“I didn’t say I finished it.”

Laughing, they left for their quarters. When they woke the next morning, they didn’t need to climb the watchtower to see.

The island was right there, greeting them as soon as they opened their eyes.