CH 133

The War of Gods and Demons – Part 1

Warning: This chapter includes mature content (Non-explicit sex)

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The whole demon city was shrouded in darkness, the air filled with a black and red demonic aura. From above, one could faintly see the scattered yellow lanterns, glowing with an eerie light.

On a circular black jade bed, a human's hands and feet were shackled and attached to long chains, secured to the bedposts in each of the four corners. His thin body was slightly curled into a ball, and his eyes were closed as if he were asleep.

Because each shackle was wrapped in soft cowhide, his hands and feet were unharmed, and his slender ankles were like heavenly jade, warm and beautiful.

The door was pushed open from the outside, and the Demon Lord lingered at the entrance for a few moments before gingerly closing it and walking towards the man on the bed. He stopped at the edge of the bed and looked quietly at the man's serene profile, unable to resist bending his tall body to kiss the corner of his forehead.

Just then, the man suddenly woke up and lifted his shackled hand to slap the demon's face, and the room resounded with a crisp slap accompanied by a muffled clang of chains.

"Get lost!"

Mo Zun's red pupils darkened and a creepy hostile aura emanated from his body. Ning Zhiyu had seen the look of Mo Zun's anger many times, and each time he thought the other party would kill him, yet it did not.

Mo Zun appeared on the bed in a flash, pinned Ning Zhiyu's hands to the head of the bed and leaned in to kiss him on the lips. The kiss was tinged with murderous intent and the strong smell of alcohol, so fierce that it looked like he wanted to swallow Ning Zhiyu alive. Ning Zhiyu had nowhere to run, but he would not let him take advantage of him, and bit down hard on the demon's tongue.

Mo Zun grunted, and the fishy sweet taste of blood spread through their mouths. His blood was poisonous to the human race, and when Ning Zhiyu touched a bit of it, he felt paralysed and had no strength to resist.

Mo Zun licked the blood from his mouth, his rough kiss gradually grew gentle, and his palms slid up Ning Zhiyu's naked legs, gently parting them.

Ning Zhiyu was wearing a thin white robe, with nothing underneath, making it easy for Mo Zun to do those disgusting things.

He used to like to say disgusting things in bed, but in recent years, knowing that Ning Zhiyu was unlikely to change, he had stopped making a fool of himself and mostly just kept his head down and let Ning Zhiyu beat and scold him.

As their bodies mingled, Ning Zhiyu's robes were already dishevelled, revealing his deep collarbones. Mo Zun bit down on Ning Zhiyu's shoulder, moving very slowly and with restraint to avoid hurting him.

Ning Zhiyu's breath trembled as his dark eyes looked up at the man above him with full hatred, his palm pinching Mo Zun's neck, "Go away, beast... beast..."

His strength was completely unthreatening to Mo Zun, who allowed him to pinch him. He raised his hand to cover Ning Zhiyu's eyes and lowered his head to kiss his lips, "Don't say anything... don't say anything."

The dim firelight swayed on a candlestick not far away, reflecting the young, flamboyant face of Mo Zun, the right side of his face slightly swollen and looking quite a bit worse for wear.

No one in the entire Demon Realm dared to lay a hand on the Demon Lord, except for the man on his bed, and every time he came out of his bedchamber, it was not uncommon to have more than a few scratch marks or slap imprints on his neck or face.

Ning Zhiyu knew that Mo Zun was drunk, because when Mo Zun came back for lunch today at noon, he told him to die.

Most people who gave their feelings would turn into a fool in front of the one they loved, including this demon. Knowing how much he hated him, he still had to do something completely unnecessary again and again to try to change his mind.

For four years, Ning Zhiyu had tried countless ways to provoke Mo Zun, hoping that the other side would kill him. He had long wanted to end his filthy, unpleasant life, but no matter what he did, it was to no avail; Mo Zun's way of venting his anger was always to violate and possess, which made Ning Zhiyu feel humiliated.

Yan Yuan was dead, but Mo Zun was still alive; when Ning Zhiyu thought of this, all that remained in his heart was monstrous hatred and despair.

The hand around Mo Zun's neck grew weaker and weaker, eventually dropping to the edge of the pillow. Ning Zhiyu looked upwards in a daze and said, "Why don't you die..."

Mo Zun's movements stopped in response, and he was quiet for a moment: "You want me to die that badly?"

Ning Zhiyu rolled his eyes to meet his demonic red pupils and said softly, "Yes, I want you to perish, your soul to be scattered, to disappear from my sight and from this world forever."

Mo Zun was drunk but not too profoundly. His eyes were slightly chaotic, and he looked at Ning Zhiyu wordlessly for a moment, then stopped looking and went on with what he had not finished doing.

However, even if the souls are not compatible with each other, after four or five years of mingling, there will inevitably be pleasure on both sides. Ning Zhiyu's cheeks gradually flushed a thin red, and the corners of his forehead were wet with sweat. He gritted his teeth and did not allow himself to make a sound, panting intermittently, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

"Go to hell... go to hell, all of you demons in the entire Demon Realm, deserve to die..."

"You don't deserve to live in this world..."

The sound of chains shaking kept ringing in the room as Mo Zun's palm touched Ning Zhiyu's face and he lowered his head to kiss away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

"Don't cry."

"Don't cry..."

When he was sober, Mo Zun would not have put his dignity on the ground for Ning Zhiyu to trample on without reservation, and the two of them were more at war.

Although Ning Zhiyu was imprisoned, he was never the one who was at a disadvantage, because Mo Zun cared about him, about everything about him, about who his eyes were looking at and who he was thinking about.

The reason why he was imprisoned here was to prevent Ning Zhiyu from escaping and being torn apart by the lower demons outside, but also to prevent him from killing himself.

When it was all over, Mo Zun briefly removed the restraints from Ning Zhiyu's hands and feet. Ning Zhiyu was so tired that he no longer had the strength to lift his fingers, and he was wrapped in Mo Zun's arms from behind. He looked at the wavering candle flame not far away, and his eyes were filled with dead silence.

“Mo San, kill me."

“Kill me."

Mo San was Mo Zun's name; he was the third in his family, with two older siblings above him, named by his parents as Mo Yi and Mo Er respectively, and he was naturally called Mo San.

Demons are divided into elementary, intermediate and advanced. The elementary demons are the least intelligent and most tyrannical, with strange and ugly looks; the intermediate demons are ugly and have some brains; and the advanced demons are those that can take on human form at will, like Mo Zun.

The more handsome and beautiful the demon, the stronger its spiritual power.

When he was born, Mo Zun was the strongest of the three brothers, but ever since he was a child, he did not like to read and he had a headache when he read a book, so he could not read very many words. His two elder brothers, however, were well educated and knew astronomy and geography. When they came of age, they discussed changing Mo Zun's name to something nice, but they did not want to reject their parents' original intention, so they chose to use a character with the same phonetic sound, Mo San. (Angel: The first Mo San and this Mo San used two different San characters.)

His parents were killed in a battle between the gods and the demons 100,000 years ago, and that is why Mo Zun later had to break through the heavens.

Because he wanted to take revenge.

However, before he could take his revenge, his two elder brothers were slaughtered in the second battle between the gods and the demons. Half of the people of the Demon Realm were slaughtered, along with his two sister-in-laws and several nieces and nephews. Therefore, the blood feud between the gods and the demons will never disappear.

Unless one of them perishes forever.

"What if I tell you that Yan Yuan is not dead?” Mo Zun spoke slightly hoarsely in Ning Zhiyu's ear.

Ning Zhiyu was silent at first, then turned around stiffly and grabbed Mo Zun's collar, "... What did you say?"

Mo Zun's palm slid from Ning Zhiyu's back to the back of his waist, and he closed his eyes, "It's nothing, go to sleep."

Ning Zhiyu put his hands against his chest and tried to push him away, however the difference in their sizes was too great to do so. In his exasperation he slapped Mo Zun across the face, his chest heaving as he coldly said, "Don't touch me, I feel sick."

Mo Zun grabbed Ning Zhiyu's wrist, opened his red pupils to look at the man in his arms, and said quietly, "You only know how to scold me, if Yan Yuan were to hold you like this, would you not be rejoicing in your heart?"

He asked with extra seriousness, as if he was really hurt.

Ning Zhiyu's heart was greatly pleased. He stared expressionlessly at Mo Zun's handsome face, which was almost demonic, and slowly came up to his ear to say, "You can't even compare to half a strand of his black silky hair."

Mo Zun's body stiffened, "What if I wasn't a demon..."

Ning Zhiyu smiled faintly and asked lightly in return, "Do you think I loathe you because you are a demon?"

"If you want me not to hate you, that's fine… if you kill yourself, I will not hate you."

As if Mo Zun could not understand his words, he calmly raised his hand to straighten the messy hair at the corner of Ning Zhiyu's forehead and said, “A'Ning, teach me to write your name."

"You're not worthy." Ning Zhiyu waved away his hand.

Yan Yuan used to call Ning Zhiyu ‘A'Yu', and Mo Zun didn't like being like his love rival, so he took it upon himself to call Ning Zhiyu 'A'Ning', but Ning Zhiyu wouldn't answer most of the time.

It was all just his own one-man show.

Ning Zhiyu was lying with his back turned and was about to fall asleep when he heard Mo Zun, who was hugging him from behind him, say, "The war between gods and demons is imminent, if I win, you will be my queen, okay?"

It seemed he was really drunk and confused.

"I hope you die."

Mo Zun was silent for a long time before he slowly said.

"I won't die, if I die, you will be taken back by Yan Yuan, and there is still A'Lie between us, the gods can't tolerate him."

A’Lie was the child that Ning Zhiyu was forced to give birth to.

He had the same red pupils as Mo Zun.

Ning Zhiyu hated Mo Zun, hated this cruel world, and couldn't muster up any love for that disgusting little bastard.

He whispered, "Then you'll die together."

Mo Zun wordlessly circled Ning Zhiyu's waist and stomach, their bodies fitting closely together. His forehead rested against the back of Ning Zhiyu's snow-white neck, and he closed his eyes and spoke no more.

The day the gods came in, Ning Zhiyu was imprisoned on the bed in the Demon Lord's bedchamber, when he heard a strange, loud sound. A wave of intense red light exploded over the Demon Realm, and countless low-level demons were torn apart on the spot, screaming heartbreakingly.

The Demon Realm's boundary shattered.

Ning Zhiyu jerked awake from the bed, propping himself up in cold sweat and sitting up, the chains connecting his hands and feet to the bedposts shaking continuously. He dreamt of Yan Yuan's tragic death on Earth at the hands of the Demon Lord, and sat in shock for a long time.

Ning Zhiyu looked back and saw that the door had been carefully pushed open and then a little head peeked in, crying out in a delicate voice for his mother.

He didn't know if it was because he was tossed around too much when he was in his womb, or if it was because he inherited his demon father's stupidity, but this child was not very clever. He knew that Ning Zhiyu hated him, but he still came up to him like his father, shamelessly and annoyingly.

The little dumpling was oblivious, holding a large bowl of beef noodles that didn't match his own size, and walked to the bedside, struggling to raise his hand to hand it to Ning Zhiyu.

"Mother, eat the noodles..."

The noodles were fresh out of the pot, with steaming rising from the top, and the little dumpling's fingertips were a little red from the heat.

His upbringing was taken care of by Mo Zun himself. Today, perhaps Mo Zun was busy and had not dressed him, so the little dumpling had his waist-length ink hair draped down, and the little black brocade robe he was wearing was not very neat, with a messy collar, just like a child without a mother to take care of him.

He had a mother, but he didn't love him.

Ning Zhiyu withdrew his gaze, not even looking at that tender little face.

"Go out."

"Mother, eat..." The little dumpling held the bowl and came closer, looking at him expectantly.

The voice was thin and soft, like the tip of a needle gently tickling Ning Zhiyu's heart. Ning Zhiyu abruptly raised his finger towards the door, his tone was heavy: "I told you to get out!"

The thick chain attached to his wrist knocked over the bowl that the little dumpling was holding up, spilling the hot noodles all over his face. He let out a short cry of pain, wiping his face with his small hands in panic. His whole face soon turned red, and his hands were shaking reflexively.

Ning Zhiyu didn't expect such a result, and for a moment looked blankly at the little dumpling by the bed.

The little dumpling rubbed the soup stains off his hands on his clothes, it was so painful that he couldn't control the force and rubbed off a layer of skin. His pupils were originally red, but the redness in the corners of his eyes was not very obvious.

"... Mother doesn't like noodles."

He looked down at the mess on the floor and waved his little hand, and the broken bowl and food residue disappeared.

"Then A'Lie will go ask the cook to make something else..."

After saying that, without waiting for Ning Zhiyu to answer, he turned and headed outside, poking his head in before closing the door and whispering for his mother to wait for him.

He did not know that it was not that his mother did not like the noodles, but that he did not like him.