Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest Chapter 414: The Scent of Suspicion

The demon guard asked him to wait, then entered the lounge without giving him a mont to peek through the doorway.

Adam tried to listen, but no sound filtered from the thick walls, so he tapped his foot on the red carpet and observed the corridor’s statues.

Demon busts carved from basalt gazed back at him; tentacles, fangs, and hideous eyes covered their surfaces. On the pedestal, rectangular brass sheets carved in demonic symbols recounted a story, or perhaps the na of who these demons had been.

He shrugged, almost chuckling. "Who would’ve thought I’d end up illiterate one day? Well, not that I had ti to learn any language with... everything."

As his last words echoed in the empty corridor, the door creaked open, revealing the grinning demon.

"I think I have a book or two on how to read. Please accept them once you’re done here." He bowed, gesturing to the wide-open door. "We’re fortunate the captain invited him today, along with two of their shared friends. Don’t worry, I extolled you enough to make their ears bleed, so they’re eager to et with you."

Adam raised a brow. "What did you tell them? You know, to have the sa story, just in case."

The guard nodded. "Nothing much. Just that you were a bloodthirsty demon, that I saw you rip a beast by the gates with your fangs and bare hands, and that the forest you ca from reeked with blood and death. Oh, I also said that your gaze alone froze my blood."

"When did I beco so doom bringer, and how are these complints?" Adam clicked his tongue, face-palming. "I hope you’re joking."

The demon scratched his head, frowning. "Why would I? You didn’t tell your level, so I just told them you were a demon prince who just evolved, too."

His eyes slipped to the side, sweat dripped down his twitching brow, and words spilt out of his mouth faster than he could think. "Anyway, patience is not one of the things we praise them for, so could you please enter before they lt my back with their gazes?"

"Move aside." Adam stepped forward, sighing.

As the demon stepped away with a sigh of relief, the lounge’s interior unravelled before Adam’s eyes.

He saw carpets, standards, and banners woven from brilliant, antique or contemporary threads. So sparkled with demonic patterns, others with humans, elven, or dwarven, making for a beautiful yet appalling diversity. After all, they had to co from sowhere—kingdoms or empires, all reducing to smoldering ashes without a doubt.

Weapons adorned transparent displays. The veneered walls were a deep cardinal red, and the statues’ hands looked like they might move at any mont.. Yet these statues were... concerning, especially their feathered wings, dignified features, and the marble halo above their heads.

’They killed angels, too? Who’s this mayor?’ His eyes narrowed.

This wouldn’t be as simple as exchanging pleasantries. He could feel it beneath his tingling skin. Threats.

On guard, he scrutinised the beige sofa facing a broad window. Through it, he could see two demons in the arena, bleeding, bones broken, yet still fighting.

And watching them while drinking fragrant wine and throwing grapes into their mouths were the four higher demons.

The first demon smirked at him, his wolf fangs gleaming. Raven feathers cascaded down his shoulders into a refined mantle that ended in a reinforced snake’s tail. "The na’s Aamon."

Adam’s eyes widened. Aamon... the legendary prince of wrath and a great marquis. He lingered for a second before he nodded in recognition despite the shadow of doubt that throbbed in his heart.

’They shouldn’t know what I look like, nor that I infiltrated the demon realm.’

He observed the three others, his hand inching toward his God Slayer’s hilt.

The second was a demon wearing a brown hat over his pointed ears and bushy beard. The clothes reminded him of those dieval hunters with leather boots reinforced by tallic plates, broad pants covered in circular patterns, and an elegant shirt padded at the shoulders.

He frowned as the demon leaned over a long sniper rifle, chuckling. "Barbatos of the wild hunt."

A duke this ti? He bit his lip, eyes darting to the last two, icy shivers running down his spine. Would he see Vinéa next? He dreaded the idea. It was too early to expose himself... But he would have no choice but to fight the demon king...

Fortunately, the third didn’t harbor a lion’s head. Instead, he scrunched his nose when he saw an unholy creature—like a twisted parody of his own handso appearance. Draconic wings, a tail, and horns adorned its body, while its hardened, scale-like skin resembled flesh that had burned, writhed, and solidified into a grotesque mockery of scales from which the gut and pelvis protruded.

"The lord of the abyss, Rashaverak." Rashaverak waved his hand dismissively, as if introducing himself was beneath him.

Finally, the last demon rose from the sofa, his draconic wings fluttering as his scaled fingers tucked around his chin. His golden crown tilted slightly with the movent, stopped by his sharp horns.

His green eyes narrowed. "Welco, ’mysterious’ demon prince. I must admit, I’ve been eager to et you—our dear guard just wouldn’t stop singing your praises." His lips curved into a smirk. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? I’m Astaroth, great duke of the demon realm, crowned prince of hell, and prince of accusers and inquisitors."

He pointed at a chair beside the sofa, inviting Adam to sit while excluding him from their circle. For now, at least.

"I’m sure you’ll have many things to tell us, right? It’s been, what?" He gazed at his friends, then shrugged. "An eternity since we got first-hand news from the outside."

Lips twisting, heart drumming in his ears, Adam paled. ’They know.’

He gripped his God Slayer’s hilt, chaotic essence roaring in his veins. Perhaps the demon kings wouldn’t notice his power if he were fast enough. A steely glint flashed in his eyes. ’One strike, four deaths.’