Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 380: A Bastard’s Mockery

Adam emerged on the other side, the scent of nature striking him at full force. Scents of chlorophyll melded with the damp earth beneath his feet.

Sweet perfumes from ancient flowers and millennia-old trees’ strong odors overpowered the smoke curling from the chimneys of the camp’s makeshift armories. Even the remaining bloody traces of battle had faded, devoured by the fairy forest’s insects and beasts.

But nature couldn’t reclaim its dominion over the wide clearing before his eyes. Felled trees carved into tall buildings and even taller walls rose around him.

Above the pulsing defensive engravings, rows of ballistas manned by Amazons aimed into the forest. Demons, humans, and elves stood guard beside them, bows, stones, and boiling oil at the ready.

He nodded at the soldiers training in neat battalions at the thunderous commands of their sergeants. Though satisfied by his army’s discipline and efficient work, they were too few, too weak.

"Not better than the weakest balor," he muttered, a frown creasing his brows.

"Ah! If they were as tall, at least. No, this weak squad is a rubbish travesty of an army." A voice dripping with mockery echoed behind him.

He turned to face a smirking blond man towering two heads above him. The dark armor, horned helmet tucked beneath his arm and the ornate sword hilt shining red and gold by his waist made him click his tongue. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

"Better than the barbarian you gathered to kill your father. Step aside. I have no desire to speak with you, Mordred."

A low laugh, making him feel insulted for some reason, left Mordred’s lips. "At least these Barbarians were enough to defend our camps. Your army? Crushed on the first day if not for me, Hippolyta, and grandma." He waved his hand dismissively. "I’ve seen foolish kings rule and die beneath my boots, subdued tribes and cities at the strength of my arms, cleaved hauberks and chain mail in the thousands with my blade, yet a minor king unable to build a proper army dismisses my presence? Amusing if we weren’t at war."

Mordred stepped forward, unbothered by rank or strength, his blue eyes sharp like his words. "Don’t talk about what you don’t know. My war against Arthur wasn’t one for kingship or legacy. It was deeper, more ancient, tied to traditions and their disappearance under his foolish rule."

He patted Adam’s shoulder, his voice lowering into a murmur as he passed him by. "That was Grandma’s goal. Mine? No matter who it is, put a worthy opponent on the other side of the battlefield, and I’ll dismember him. Know this, little king. You need me, not the other way around."

"I need no bastard." Adam puckered his lips, his fangs clenched tight as his hand rose.

Little king? Veins throbbed on his forehead at the repeated insults. Mordred’s past didn’t interest him, nor did his boasting. A few punches would surely teach the fool his place—beneath him.

CRACK

As he hurled it, a frozen wall suddenly formed between them, cracks spreading on its glistening surface in a crunching cacophony.

"Are you trying to kill him?" Mab flew from the Gate, her eyes narrowed into slits. "You’re one of us now, so mind your strength!" She flew before Mordred’s clenched fist around the half-drawn Clarent. "Drop your blade, foolish grandson. He’s not your father, not a knight. Insult him, and he’ll burst your head like you would in his stead."

Mordred sheathed his blade, shrugged, and left with a last biting remark. "At least he has a spine. A pity, though. I wanted to add his head to my hunting board. After all, how many can boast to have killed a god no matter how weak they are?"

"Tsk." Adam flipped him a middle finger, grunting. "I don’t place ants on my board, you walking piece of junk."

"Don’t underestimate him." Mab dismissed the cracked wall with a snap of her fingers, her voice heavy. "I made Mordred to incarnate the absolute dominance of the old traditions. You can kill him, but don’t expect an easy fight with your current strength when magic runs in his veins like blood."

She pointed at his right arm, then left leg. "You’ll lose an arm at least, perhaps your leg too."

A deep furrow creased Adam’s brows. Was Mordred that strong? It made no sense even if he stretched his imagination to consider him like an engraved artifact designed to kill Arthur.

Noticing his doubtful expression, Mab shrugged. "Arthur was just the start. He was my weapon against that traitorous freshwater fish, then Oberon. I think you know about the Hydra? I integrated a drop of its blood to Mordred. No matter the wound, he’ll regenerate as long as you don’t vaporise him through and through."

"Freshwater fish?" Adam’s eyes widened. "The lady of the lake? You made him to kill gods?"

What madness was this, and how much did she alter Mordred’s constitution to meet her goals? Still an arm and a leg? ’If he capitalises on the fact that I wasn’t trying to kill and underestimated him, perhaps. But so what? I can’t die either.’

Glaring at Mab, he walked to the edges of the camp. "I don’t have time to waste on him. I’ll relocate the city, then we can start with training."

However, she shook her head. "Not here. You’ll need water, a lot of water. Follow me."

She flew out of the camp, and although confused, he followed.

The soldiers instantly locked on them, arrows and ballista bolts drawn, before noticing Mab’s purple wings. They sighed in relief and watched them bolt above the mystical trees until they became dots in the clear sky.

A moment later, Adam hovered above sparkling emerald waters, the soft breeze carrying the scent of salt to his nostrils. Not far, white sand covered an immaculate shore from which tropical trees sprouted like grass. Didn’t she mean water to sustain his population? "I thought you meant a river. Why the sea?"

"Can I ruin the surprise because of your curiosity?" A smirk split Mab’s face as she flew around him. "Summon your city already!"

"Well..." He scratched his head and retrieved the city relocation ticket. Yet, he hesitated for a second. Wouldn’t his city drown in the sea, or was the sea bed deceptively high?

Despite his doubts, Mab was on his side and she had much to lose by shoving Tiamat into the sea. Or did she expect she would enjoy it because of her attunement to salt water? Doubtful, and her excitement seemed genuine.

Intrigued and his heart drumming in his ears, he ripped the ancient ticket.