After the Fall of the Demon Race, Reincarnated as a Demon Girl - Chapter 19

Lector, his brilliant golden hair shimmering, suddenly revealed a trace of barely concealed astonishment in his eyes. His hands began to clap almost involuntarily, and a sinister, eerie smile slowly spread across his somewhat gaunt face.

“Oh? Truly impressive. You’re the first to have lasted this long. Such tenacious willpower.”

Instinct?

Renith caught the word. That must be Lector’s ability. Judging by his earlier actions, his power likely involved stimulating the “instincts” of living creatures.

Without a doubt, Renith’s instincts had been triggered. The drowsiness from moments ago was one of those fundamental biological urges.

“Sleep is a physiological need deeply tied to biological instinct. The vast majority of creatures indulge in this necessary rest to regain strength and consolidate memories. Even if you, miss, are not human, you still require sleep, don’t you?”

Lector took two slow, deliberate steps forward. His tall frame leaned in slightly as he inhaled deeply, almost greedily, savoring the pungent air thick with the mingled scents of decay and blood.

The odor seemed to carry a deadly allure, intoxicating him.

“How do we begin to covet? We covet what we see every day. It seems to be an instinct.”

“Reproduction, seeking benefit and avoiding harm, fighting, fleeing, killing… Each one is etched deep into the genes of living beings. They are the foundations of our nature. And I chose to embrace it—to embrace instinct.”

“Listen. It’s grown quiet all around… Can you hear it? Can you hear the screams and whispers from the darkest corners of your soul?”

In an instant, Renith felt as though she were at the eye of a storm, torn apart by a torrent of intense and conflicting sensations.

She desperately wanted to flee this suffocating reality; a roar within her cried out for the release of bloodshed; a mad impulse screamed in her mind, urging her to charge toward the iron cage in the corner…

Her eyes widened, filled with struggle. The fierce flames licking at her arms brought searing pain, cutting through the chaos and granting her a sliver of clarity.

Meanwhile, the pale-faced Lector stood to the side, observing it all without any intention of stopping. He continued his monologue unabated:

“Have you ever killed a rabbit?”

“Rabbits are easy to kill. Just a quick twist to snap their fragile necks. But I’ve never been fond of such a crude method. I prefer to slowly part their soft fur, then carefully remove their organs, feeling their lingering warmth. Then, I collect their blood drop by drop until the deep crimson liquid fills an entire bathtub, saturating the air with the rich, metallic scent of blood.”

“I enjoy that feeling. And I love that smell.”

He shuffled unsteadily to the edge of an iron cage containing the remains of a woman, long since rotted away. His gaze was calm, but a hint of madness lurked beneath. In his eyes, humans and rabbits seemed no different.

“But killing only rabbits grows tedious.”

Renith’s eyes followed Lector to the edge of the cage. She hadn’t expected that merely turning her head would unleash such uncontrollable impulses within her.

“So you killed people for this?” Renith asked through gritted teeth.

“Indeed, humans are far more interesting than animals. Their instincts are far more complex than those of ignorant creatures. Some beings don’t even understand fear, let alone how to express it.”

“But me? I just need to stand before someone, knife in hand, and they instinctively reveal their fear and cowardice. It’s truly delightful.”

“The most terrifying things are often the most fascinating. Their screams carry a certain beauty—to my ears, they are incredibly melodious. And their organs, still faintly warm, have an indescribable delicacy when tasted.”

“You think you’re right?”

Renith was slowly gathering her strength. Given a little more time, she could unleash a spell to deal with this madman.

“Of course I’m right! It’s my instinct. Following one’s instinct is inherently correct. It’s the truth!”

Lector spread his arms wide, about to turn, when a loud gunshot suddenly erupted behind Renith.

“Bang—”

The bullet whistled past the edge of Renith’s light blue robe and struck Lector squarely in the back.

In that instant, the shackles of “instinct” that had tightly bound Renith shattered. The primal urges that had coiled around her mind and body like vines suddenly dissipated.

“Page 724 of the Codex, fire magic—”

Patterns of flame spread across Lector’s writhing body. Seizing the opportunity, Renith struck him down, rendering him unconscious. She quickly searched him and found a set of keys. Their shape and texture left no doubt—they were the keys to the iron cages.

Once done, Renith turned her head slightly, her gaze following the direction of the gunshot.

There stood a figure, breathing heavily, his hands tightly gripping a musket, knuckles white with tension. His eyes were a mix of sorrow and fury.

It was Schubert.

Seeing Renith unharmed, Schubert felt a surge of relief and was about to call out to her when Renith spoke first:

“Take them and go. Quickly.”

Schubert holstered his musket, hurried over to Renith, took the slightly rusted keys, and ran to unlock the cages.

Renith slowly walked over to the narrow table adorned with vibrant flowers and delicate dinnerware, her eyes carefully scanning its surface.

Aside from two or three books lying quietly on the table, there was nothing else.

She recorded them with her Codex, then quickly skimmed through them. The words were familiar, but the syntax was unusually twisted, likely translated from another language.

After flipping through them, Renith neatly returned the books to their original places.

By then, Schubert had freed everyone. Supporting one another, they followed behind him, their eyes filled with a longing for freedom.

“Let’s go.”

The group hurried out of the deep, dim passageway, as if stepping from hell back into the world. Villagers waiting at the exit rushed forward like heroes welcoming a triumphant return, their rough but strong hands carefully helping everyone out.

The sound of footsteps on the ground was a declaration of broken shackles, brimming with yearning for freedom and the joy of rebirth.

“I can’t believe it… We’re still alive!”

The villagers emerged from the breeding factory, their eyes once locked in captivity now gazing at the sun, tears streaming down their faces.

After putting some distance between them, Renith stopped and looked back toward the breeding factory. Tiny sparks flickered around her.

Meanwhile, deep in the dark underground space of the breeding factory, Lector slowly regained consciousness.

He opened his eyes, scanning the empty, lonely surroundings, a faint sense of relief washing over him.

His lips trembled slightly as he prepared to speak, but in that instant, searing fiery patterns crawled across his entire body.

“No—”

Lector’s eyes widened in terror as he let out a desperate scream.

Then, raging flames erupted from within him, engulfing him completely. The intense blaze illuminated the gloomy underground space, leaving behind a short sword woven from fire.

The shockwave from the first explosion flipped open the book Renith had left on the table, settling on a page:

“Has your lamb ceased its crying?”

Then, the short sword descended, piercing Lector’s corpse. The resulting catastrophic explosion, like an ignited powder keg, radiated outward in a ring of immense heat and force, centered where Lector had fallen.

Flames and shockwaves intertwined into an unstoppable torrent, devouring everything in their path.

In mere moments, the entire breeding factory was engulfed in the violent explosion. Fierce flames raged through every corner of the building, and thick smoke billowed into the sky.

“Scorching Flame Judgment.”

Filoof emerged from the Codex, chanting the closing words of the spell.

The villagers were startled by the explosion behind them. Aside from Schubert and Lance, no one knew what Renith had done.

“Let’s go. To the next breeding factory.”

The group moved quickly, reaching the last breeding factory within an hour. Surprisingly, this one seemed unguarded, which made things easier. They skillfully forced the door open and entered.

Inside, aside from cattle and sheep, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Renith suspected a hidden door, similar to last time, and sent Filoof to search. But after flying several circles, Filoof found nothing.

This place seemed to be just an ordinary breeding factory.

Where were the guards?

The transmigrators?

It seemed they had long since fled.

“Let’s go. Who knows how this guy detected us from such a distance.”

Renith approached Schubert, who was standing by the cattle pen.

At that moment, a faint sadness lingered in Schubert’s eyes, as if he were still trapped in the shadow of Luoan’s death.

Seeing Renith, he snapped out of his daze and quickly composed himself.

“I’ll go organize the villagers to leave.”

Schubert efficiently gathered the villagers, and they hurried back to the village by afternoon.

Lance took the keys from Schubert, planning to retrieve the list from Schubert’s house. Meanwhile, Schubert went to comfort the children gathered in the village chief’s house.

The villagers huddled together, discussing animatedly.

Having heard that the Elbard Manor was well-stocked with food, someone suggested gathering the entire village that evening for a grand feast to celebrate their newfound freedom.

Everyone agreed it was a wonderful idea.

After some thought, Renith realized she had nothing else to do. She borrowed a stool from a villager, sat on the grassy field at the village entrance, and stored her motorcycle and car in the Codex. Then, she enjoyed the evening breeze blowing from the western frontier and watched the sunset over the grasslands.

Recalling the events of the day, Renith carefully examined her body.

A girl’s body really is troublesome.

But being part demon made up for some of it.

Still, demons…

Renith sighed, took out the Codex, and flipped through the book she had seized (copied) from Lector earlier that day.

This book had depth.

And Lector was merely a madman.

A lost lamb.