After the Fall of the Demon Race, Reincarnated as a Demon Girl - Chapter 18

“No… it can’t be…”

Schubert’s voice trembled, his legs gave way, and he slowly sank to his knees. He reached out a shaking hand, fingers slightly curled, filled with immense dread, and gently lifted a corner of the white cloth.

Just one glance, and his pupils contracted sharply, as if an invisible hand had clenched his heart.

Then, as if scalded, he quickly covered the cloth again, as though that could shut out the cruel reality.

Right now, he desperately wished he was wrong, hoped that it wasn’t Luo Oan under that cloth, but anyone else.

But how could he mistake that all-too-familiar figure?

A few hours before the action.

[Schubert, you know? I’ve often wondered why my father couldn’t be like yours. He drinks all day, even gets violent at home. He might as well have died on the railway tracks.]

[A useless failure, driven out of the city.]

Luo Oan drank, his cheeks slightly flushed, his gaze shifting from Lance to Schubert.

[If one day he could think of this family, give everything for what he believes in, then in my eyes, he’d be my role model, my hero. Then drinking this wine wouldn’t feel so guilty… No, maybe I wouldn’t even drink at all.]

[What’s the difference between me and him now? Equally heartless, huh… equally failed, can’t even resist Elbard.]

Since that day when he was held at gunpoint and had his leg broken, he’d started giving up on himself. He realized he could do nothing, like a drowning person… utterly powerless.

[Hah, let’s not talk about this. Hey! Remember when we were kids, I dragged you to play in the ditch, and you fell? Your mother really scolded me hard.]

[And that time we argued, Lance was there too, crying uncontrollably.]

[Honestly, if every day could be like that, I really liked those times, so free… damn Elbard.]

[…Last time we failed, but this time we won’t. We… will become heroes!]

He shook off his lethargy, stood up abruptly, raised his glass to the waning moon above, the drunkenness in his eyes completely gone.

[We must not fail this time!]

[Elbard will die.]

[Everyone will be free.]

[For freedom—]

He drained his glass, no longer wallowing in self-pity, grabbed the magic scroll on the table, memorized how to use it, and rushed toward the breeding farm.

Everyone had their role to play; now he would do what he could.

……

Lance and the villagers surrounded Renith and Schubert, everyone silent. They were mourning the departed Luo Oan, the oppressive grief flowing slowly in the air, as if you could hear the sound of tears falling in their hearts.

After a long while, Schubert could no longer contain his sorrow and anger. Clenching his fists, he pounded the ground with all his might, the dull, powerful thuds seeming to vent his pain and rage.

Schubert suddenly stood up. He knew well that now was not the time to indulge in grief.

Right now, those who oppressed them were still at large. To honor Luo Oan’s spirit, they must reclaim their freedom!

“Please keep this safe for me a little longer.”

Schubert turned to the villagers.

“This is not the time for sorrow. What we must do now is drive those bastards out!”

The villagers, seeing this, raised their makeshift “weapons” and surged into the breeding farm.

Renith followed them in. It was her first time inside the breeding farm. She stood at the back of the group, taking in everything around her.

Her first impression of the breeding farm was how clean it was. Animals raised within the village fences always had a strong, unpleasant smell, the result of infrequent cleaning.

Second was the condition of the cattle and sheep. They all seemed cast from the same mold, most looking very similar. Renith guessed it was due to their diet—strictly measured and varied.

Third was disease. The animals here seemed rarely plagued by illness. Renith saw syringes and bottles of liquid in the corners, apparently specially formulated potions for biological plagues.

Sometimes you had to admit the advanced thinking of the Crossers. Their arrival wasn’t entirely bad.

In the past, no one would have considered these things. Usually, when such problems arose, you’d go to the mage tower and find a healer, but that came at a high cost, one almost no one could afford.

“There doesn’t seem to be anyone here.”

Renith quickly made a round but found nothing. The Crosser here seemed to have hidden or run away.

“Philof?”

Renith called out to Philof, who was resting inside the Codex.

“What is it, Lady Renith?”

Philof rubbed her eyes, looking very sleepy, but Renith knew the little one didn’t actually need rest. She had no idea who she’d inherited this laziness from.

“Please check underground for any hidden passages or the like.”

Philof acknowledged and obediently flew off, while Renith recorded everything in the breeding farm.

Philof worked quickly. She informed Renith that there was indeed a hidden space underground, and the Crosser seemed to have gotten wind of something early and hidden down there.

However, the scene underground was utterly horrifying, too gruesome to bear.

Renith didn’t summon the villagers to follow her but rushed alone toward the hidden passage entrance.

The entrance was concealed deep within the breeding farm, in a room that served as an unused breeding stall.

Renith gently pulled open the heavy iron door. Beneath a pile of straw, she found the hidden trapdoor.

She took a deep breath, used both hands to slowly open it, then slipped inside.

The underground space was vast, nearly a quarter the size of the breeding farm.

Here, the light was dim, and the air carried an indescribable mix of smells—fear, despair, and death.

Unlike ordinary breeding areas, there were no common animal pens but rows of cold iron cages, each holding a trembling figure—a human.

Lector stood at the center of this secret breeding area, dressed in a neat black suit. Matching his attire, his deep eyes gleamed with a cold light.

Lector slowly approached one iron cage. The man inside curled up in the corner, eyes full of terror and despair, pleading in a weak voice.

Lector greedily listened to the trembling cries born of fear, which to his ears were like the most beautiful music, each note stirring the most twisted desires deep within him.

“You will become my finest delicacy tonight.”

Lector spoke softly, his voice like a demon’s whisper.

He ignored the man’s fear, glanced at his watch—three more hours, and Layla would arrive to cook today’s meal.

Unlike Jiros, Lector saw no difference between humans and livestock. This feeling grew stronger after he became a “Chosen One”—he was now a higher species, and feeding on lowly humans was natural.

He enjoyed tasting different humans—children were tenderer, adults had more substance, the elderly were tougher and more flavorful…

Every time his gluttony got the better of him, Lector would come here early.

Listening to the fear, watching the helpless struggles of the captives, their limbs restrained by cold iron bars, every attempt to break free seeming so futile.

Sweat soaked their clothes, hair stuck messily to their faces, the light of hope gradually dying in their eyes—all of this was the most splendid sight to Lector.

Every cell in his body seemed ignited, immersed in this ultimate pleasure.

At this, he smiled, his grin particularly sinister in the dim light.

Here, he was the master, controlling the fate of these “ingredients.” Their fear and struggles were merely catalysts for his twisted desires.

“Oh? It seems we have a guest.”

Lector’s gaze fixed on the empty entrance to the hall. Just then, Renith, clad in a slightly damp light blue robe, stepped unhurriedly to a stop by the doorway.

“Save me—save me—I don’t want to die!”

“I have elderly at home!”

“This guy is a devil!”

Inside the iron cages, the imprisoned humans, upon seeing Renith, seemed like drowning people spotting a lifeline. Hope sparked in their eyes as they screamed desperately toward her for help.

Renith slowly turned her eyes, scanning the surroundings. Every inch of the air seemed filled with her undisguised disgust, which ultimately settled squarely on Lector.

“Do all you ‘Chosen Ones’ enjoy this sort of thing?”

Renith gripped her short wand, slowly raising her wrist. Magic gathered at its tip. She didn’t want to waste words on Lector; someone like him deserved death a thousand times over.

“Non-human lady, your quick temper lacks grace. Actually, we could sit down and talk calmly. In fact… you’re feeling very tired now, aren’t you? We should have a good talk? Right?”

Renith’s fingers suddenly went slack, as if drained of strength by invisible threads. Weariness washed over her like a rising tide.

The incessant chatter from the man opposite now sounded like a blurred, noisy buzz in her ears. Each word seemed obscured by a thick pane of frosted glass, its exact shape and meaning hard to grasp.

“What… non-human? What… tired?”

The short wand clattered to the ground, the sharp sound breaking the silence. Renith’s heart jolted violently, as if struck by a heavy hammer.

“Philof!”

She mustered all her strength to shout as loudly as possible.

Immediately, a golden figure shot out from the large inner pocket of her robe and slammed into Renith.

Renith gasped in pain from the impact, but the sharp sting jolted her fully awake from her daze.

“Is this… Sloth?”