After returning to the Royal Palace, Chen Yu sat on the Throne and had Silver Sparrow pull up all intelligence regarding the Demon King Cult from the Empire's borders over the past month.
The Gel Network's intelligence screening was highly efficient. A massive amount of scattered information was extracted, categorized, cross-referenced, and compiled by Silver Sparrow from the logs of signal amplification towers across various regions. Eventually, a relatively clear propagation path map was woven before him.
The earliest location where the Demon King Cult appeared wasn't the Valley City-States, but the already-declining Burning Capital—the city founded by demons.
Tracing further back, the earliest scattered descriptions of the "Pitch-Black Demon King" actually came from the other side of the Abyss fissure.
In other words, the birthplace of this cult wasn't the Empire, nor the Golden Radiance Valley, but the Abyss.
The demons he had banished back to the Abyss had, in turn, made him their object of worship.
After absorbing this information, Chen Yu distilled a concerning inference from this absurd fact.
Could this be the demons' new strategy against the Empire?
If they couldn't win through battle, they'd resort to cultural warfare—using idol worship and twisted propaganda to tarnish the Slimes' friendly and kind-hearted continental image, making the entire continent believe their Empire's leader was truly a pitch-black, evil, world-ending Demon King.
This kind of indirect counterattack was far more insidious than a frontal charge.
Wow, these demons were truly wicked.
He planned to dispatch the Shadow Royal Guard to investigate the Abyss fissure and see what this Demon King Cult was actually stirring up in the Abyss.
.....
Time went back to half a month ago.
A demon legion marched slowly under the blood moon of the Abyss's first layer.
Calling it a legion was generous; it looked more like a group of stragglers. Most demons bore fresh wounds, and not a single piece of equipment among them was intact.
In the middle of the formation walked over two hundred Fear Demons, noticeably larger than the common demons. Their armor was relatively intact, but their morale was visibly low.
Walking at the very front were Azazel and Balthazar.
These two Fear Demons towered a head above their subordinates, their ram's horns gleaming with a faint dark-red glow under the blood moon. But their pace wasn't much faster than the defeated soldiers behind them.
Still, what right did they have to complain? It was lucky enough to have survived at the hands of that Demon King.
Yex marched near the back of the formation, his iron hooves crushing the black gravel of the Abyss wasteland. He looked up at the blood moon.
He was grateful that the Gel Demon King had kept his promise and returned his soul.
But the more he felt this way, the first thought that surfaced in his heart wasn't "Hooray for freedom," but an indescribable sense of emptiness.
Maybe, the moment his soul was returned, he had secretly hoped that Demon King would break his promise and keep his soul gripped within the gel?
Perhaps being enslaved by a Demon King was proof of strength, just like the two Greater Demons ahead of him.
But he had gained his freedom and lost his value. That Demon King hadn't even given him a second glance.
This, ironically, stung his heart even more.
What could be more humiliating for an Iron Cavalry Demon, once renowned and fearsome in the Burning Legion, than being treated as a useless piece of trash?
Worshipping something powerful was as natural as breathing for demons.
Outside the Abyss, power was the only measure of all things. Every demon's instinct automatically bowed to a more powerful existence.
Yex realized he wasn't the only one tormented by this thought.
Ever since they began retreating deeper into the Abyss, sporadic discussions about that Demon King had started among the demons in the wandering group. Their tone held no resentment, only awe and fear.
The remnants of the New Sun cult followers who had fled back to the Abyss with the stragglers were even more silent and even more abnormal.
They huddled in tattered cloaks, staying awake all day and eating nothing, simply trailing at the very back of the formation. Occasionally, they would numbingly look up at the blood moon that never set over the Abyss's first layer, muttering under their breath.
Muttering words like New Sun, Pitch Black, Demon King.
Azazel and Balthazar, however, had no time to dwell on the emotions of these stragglers.
These two Fear Demons were preoccupied with a far more practical problem.
They were currently in the Abyss's first layer, and Casaric's territory also had a presence here.
They had been trapped in the Bottomless Hell for centuries and had long lost track of the power structure on this first layer.
If they were to run headlong into Casaric, now a Legendary, the consequences would be dire.
Azazel rasped, "We can circle around Casaric's fortress. Find a remote corner and claim it first."
"Even if it's just an abandoned watchtower, as long as we hold out for a while and return to the deeper Abyss, Casaric might not find us later."
"The problem is, we don't even know where we are," Balthazar said irritably, swinging his axe to drive away Abyss mosquitoes.
Azazel suddenly remembered something. He raised his head, his gaze falling on the silent Iron Cavalry demon marching at the back of the formation.
"One of Casaric's former generals. This one should know the way."
Yex stopped in his tracks instinctively under the gaze of the two Greater Demons.
"Do you know the way? How big is Casaric's territory on this layer? How many fortresses does he have? Roughly how many troops?"
Yex snapped back to reality and answered hoarsely, "I've walked every road on the Abyss's first layer. But this damned place is all the same—nothing but barren land and black stones. It's impossible to tell the direction."
"All I know is that Casaric's territory isn't large, only two or three Abyss fortresses. Maybe we haven't been that unlucky..."
Before he could finish, an imp scout flying ahead came rushing back, its wings flapping in panic and haste.
"Reporting to the great Azazel! Ahead... ahead, there seems to be an Abyss fortress!"
Balthazar stepped forward, grabbed the imp, and lifted it to eye level. "What flag?" he rumbled.
The imp trembled. "It... it looks like a coin... and a staff... Yes, a coin and a staff crossed together!"
Yex's purple face turned black.
That was the flag of the Burning Legion. The Abyss's first layer was vast, yet their luck was so terrible that a random walk had led them straight back to Casaric's territory.
Azazel and Balthazar reacted faster than him. The two Fear Demons spun around simultaneously, their terrifying roars shaking the stragglers from the rubble.
"Turn back! Now! Immediately!"
The Fear Demons of the Fear Legion began to retreat in disarray, grabbing imps still gnawing on bones and running back.
But before the straggler formation could fully turn around, another imp flew back from ahead.
This imp was even smaller than the last, flying crookedly, but its expression was far more excited.
"Reporting to the robust Balthazar! There are no powerful demons in the fortress! It looks like they all ran away!"
The conflicting reports from the two imps left Azazel and Balthazar in doubt and hesitation. They exchanged glances, suspecting a trap by Casaric.
Both brothers then fixed their gazes on Yex, planning to send him to scout.
"Yex, it's time for you to do something for the legion."
"Yes."
Yex dared not resist. He hefted his spear, pawed the gravel with an iron hoof, then began to run, heading in the direction the imp had indicated.
Not long after, the outline of the Abyss fortress rose from the horizon.
At first, it was just a blurry black silhouette. As he ran closer, details gradually became clear.
The fortress was built from the black volcanic rock most common on the Abyss's first layer. Cracks between the stones were filled with cooled magma, making it look like a single giant volcanic rock had been roughly split and stacked together.
Classic Burning Legion style: crude, practical.
But strangely, not a single torch was lit in this fortress. The lookout towers were empty, where sentries should have stood. The moat of magma surrounding the fortress had completely cooled, its surface crusted over with a layer of gray-black volcanic rock.
The main gate stood open, one half of the door lying crookedly on the ground. Half of the once-imposing iron rivets on the door had been pried off.
On a pile of rubble by the gate, a few imps were fighting a group of Abyss mosquitoes over the remains of a demon carcass.
Yex slowed his pace. His iron hooves casually crushed a few imps blocking his way as he cautiously entered the fortress's main gate.
The interior of the fortress was even more barren than it had appeared from outside.
Anything of value had been looted clean. Only garbage that even demons wouldn't touch was scattered everywhere, along with the corpses and broken swords left behind after the riot.
In a corner, a few demon grunts were gathered in a circle, kicking around the head of an Undead with its jaw smashed off as if it were a ball, having a grand old time.
Hearing the clatter of hooves, they looked up. When they saw Yex's towering figure standing at the corridor entrance, the demon grunts scrambled back in terror.
"Ge... General Yex? You're not dead?"
Yex walked over, reached out, and grabbed the grunt nearest to him. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "What's going on?"
Mentioning this only made the demon grunts more panicked. The one in his grasp was trembling so hard his teeth chattered.
"Lord... Lord Casaric is dead."
Yex's pupils contracted sharply.
A Legendary Warlock, an existence in the Abyss that would require several same-level Greater Demons to suppress—how could he die so easily?
"How did he die?" Yex pressed, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the imp's neck.
The imp squealed in pain, while the other grunts quickly chimed in, explaining for their comrade.
Their arguments were chaotic, but the content was strikingly consistent: Casaric was indeed dead, reduced to less than ash.
As for how he died, the rumors in the fortress were too chaotic. Some demons said he was cleaved in two by that Demon King. Others said he was blasted to ash by a single cannon shot from that flying metal castle.
Then, the grunt holding the Undead's head suddenly interrupted with the most absurd death he had ever heard.
"The demons who fled back all said Lord Casaric was sat to death by the Slime Demon King."
Sat to death.
Yex fell silent.
His first reaction wasn't amusement, but deep terror and reverence.
If even a Legendary demon could be sat to death, just how terrifying was that Demon King?
However, with Casaric dead, it meant they no longer had to flee.
After receiving Yex's report, Azazel and Balthazar occupied the ownerless Abyss fortress that very day.
They reactivated the fortress's lava core, refilled the cooled magma moat with bright red magma, lit torches on the watchtowers, and incorporated the grunts who only kicked Undead heads into the Fear Legion.
Over two hundred Fear Demons of the Fear Legion took over the fortress's defenses.
This was their first true foothold since leaving the Bottomless Hell.
Though it was just a remote fortress that Casaric, in his lifetime, wouldn't have deigned to inspect personally, having a fortress in the Abyss's first layer meant they were no longer wandering stragglers.
But every demon knew they wouldn't stay here long.
The Fear Demons didn't dare discuss this openly, but that Demon King had killed even Casaric. He would eventually lead his Demon King's Army into the Abyss.
Soon, the fortress's magma pool was refilled with surging red magma. A few inferno demons submerged themselves into the depths, leaving only the tips of their horns visible. Bubbles churned around them, and they let out hoarse sighs of contentment.
Yex was summoned by the Azazel brothers to the camp by the magma pool.
"Yex, you know what we're thinking." Azazel looked down at him from on high.
Balthazar, at his side, also gazed down. The massive forms of the two Fear Demons blocked most of the magma pool's fiery light, casting Yex entirely in shadow.
"Tell us, how you got your soul back," Azazel said.
"Or rather, the method to submit to that Demon King," Balthazar added.
Yex looked up. "You want to submit to that Demon King?"
Azazel let out a raspy laugh. "We are the incarnation of fear. The only one we can follow is the true master of fear—the king that fear itself dreads."
"Beneath the Demon King's shadow, we don't have to shrink here, fighting over territory with those nameless little lords."
"We can follow the Demon King's Army and conquer every corner of the Abyss, those ancient cities we dare not even approach now."
In their eye sockets, Yex saw a fire hotter than magma.
They had made the most instinctive demon judgment: decide to submit to a more powerful and evil Demon King.
He recognized that look. The expressions of those New Sun followers as they wept and drew symbols by the bonfire were, in essence, no different from the fanatical flame burning in Azazel's eyes.
"Perhaps we could establish a cult." Yex's words were almost blurted out.
After saying it, he was stunned for a moment himself. But then, as he followed this sudden thought, his reasoning became clearer.
"The Demon King might not necessarily need an Abyss army. But he will surely need a cult in the Abyss to spread his fear on his behalf."
The Azazel brothers' eyes lit up.
"How do we do it?" The two Fear Demons spoke in unison.
"Maybe those followers know."
The few surviving New Sun followers were hauled up by the Fear Demons and forced to kneel before Azazel and Balthazar.
Their eyes darted around in terror, their bodies trembling, as if they thought they were about to become the demons' dinner.
When they heard Yex mention "establishing a cult for the Demon King," the followers reacted with confusion or fear.
Only one male follower suddenly raised his head, revealing a wild, blazing gaze.
The light in his eyes was so bright that even the inferno demon soaking in the magma pool felt it was a color only magma could possess.
He paid no heed to the wounds on his knees, even forgetting the fear of the demons. He crawled forward on his knees, spreading his arms towards the night sky where the blood moon hung, as if he could embrace that moon that never fell with his bare hands.
"I know! I know everything!"
"The Demon King has enlightened me."
"The great Demon King! The true form of the New Sun! The ender of the Old Age! The supreme Pitch-Black existence!"
"I was once a follower of the Old Age, a remnant of the New Sun, lost in that despicable false cult for decades. Until that day, on the ruins of the Royal Capital, I saw him with my own eyes—the supreme Pitch-Black existence!"
"In that instant, I understood! The Old Age and the New Sun are the same lie! Light is false! The sun is false! Only the Pitch-Black Saint is the one true truth of this world!"
"Your confusion, your bewilderment, your ignorance—it all boils down to the same question."
"What is the Demon King?"
"I thought for half a month, and finally understood! The Demon King is the saint closest to the essence among the Three Saints and a Slime!"
"His body is the Saint-Slime—the selfless and righteous Slime Emperor, the sovereign of ultimate goodness walking upon the earth!"
"His original form is the Saint-God—the supreme Slime God, the ancient existence silently watching all things at the junction of the Astral Realm and the Abyss!"
"His spirit is the Saint-Spirit—the great and terrifying Slime Demon King, the incarnation of Pitch Black, the true word of the New Sun, the king of chaos and evil!"
"We do not worship the Slime Emperor. That is the Saint-Slime, the false mask of ultimate goodness. He is not the one we should follow!"
"We also do not worship the Slime God. That is the Saint-God, the silent watcher. He does not need our faith!"
"On the contrary, they might even be our enemies."
"What we believe in, what we follow, what we are willing to sacrifice everything for—is the Saint-Spirit! The great Demon King! The true Demon King!"
The New Sun follower beside him, who had been silent all along, suddenly looked up. His eyes were filled with disbelief.
He opened his mouth to rebuke this heretic. But before he could utter a single word, an iron hoof came down.
Yex withdrew his hoof, scraping the residue off its sole on the stone floor. He cast an approving look at the mad follower who was still spreading his arms towards the blood moon.
"Well said. We don't worship a slime. We worship the Demon King. The true Demon King."
Far from finding anything wrong with it, Yex felt the statement was fundamentally correct.
This made him understand a principle: Leave professional matters to the professionals.
Azazel and Balthazar stood up simultaneously from both sides of the stone platform.
The towering forms of these two Fear Demons blocked the last fiery glow from the magma pool, pressing the fortress's sole light source behind them, leaving only the two blazing lights in their eye sockets.
"Long live the Demon King!" Azazel raised his giant axe.
"Long live the Demon King!" Balthazar's fist pounded against his own breastplate.
Every demon raised their hands, roared, and joined this impromptu celebration in the loudest way they could find.
"Long live the Demon King!!!"