The wine and roast meats from the banquet were whisked away in an instant. King Roc, King Liontusk, King Gloomape, and Nine-Headed Wyrm all sat in rigid rows within the hall.
The hall’s warmth and bustle vanished, leaving only a heavy, expectant hush.
King Gloomape stroked his chin and let out a sigh. “We haven’t crossed paths with him in years. Why would he suddenly send someone now?”
King Liontusk gave a snort and a wry chuckle. “Isn’t it obvious? Word’s gotten out—Six-Ears Damon has shown himself. The monkey’s other soul is loose, and it’s bloodthirsty. With Lord Many-Eyes’s paltry strength, if Six-Ears sets his sights on him, there won’t even be scraps left—he won’t get a chance to run. How could he not be worried?”
As he spoke, King Liontusk shot a meaningful glance at Nine-Headed Wyrm, as if to say: see, this alliance was the right call.
Nine-Headed Wyrm sat throughout, his brows tightly furrowed, lost in silent doubt.
King Roc traced the carved patterns on the table and mused, “If you ask me, of all the factions that split from Blossom Mountain, Many-Eyes’s branch is the slipperiest. All these years, they’ve barely clashed with anyone, yet their drills are constant—always preparing for war, who knows what they’re plotting? I’ll handle the envoy when he arrives; you two, keep quiet for now.”
“Understood.”
“Got it.”
The two Demon Kings answered at once, while Nine-Headed Wyrm remained motionless, still seated like a statue.
"The envoy has arrived!" came a shout. Outside the grand doors, three figures appeared in the distance—the leader was Many-Eyes himself.
With just one glance, King Roc's eyes narrowed to slits.
He actually came in person—what nerve.
Everyone present exchanged glances.
The moment he stepped across the threshold, Many-Eyes's gaze landed on Nine-Headed Wyrm, causing him to hesitate for a split second.
After a brief pause, he smiled faintly and said, "General Nine-Heads is here too?"
He walked steadily into the hall, with two little demons behind him carrying three boxes.
Along the way, the Demon Kings glanced at Many-Eyes, their looks not just unfriendly but tinged with mockery—as if watching a fish jump onto their own chopping block.
Here in Lionback, with the three of them together and a host of demon armies outside, Many-Eyes probably wouldn't even have a chance to run.
Nine-Headed Wyrm said nothing, remaining seated without even glancing at Many-Eyes, as if he didn't exist at all.