Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 941- The Shadow Lurks (4)

It could be said that he had invested quite a lot of resources into the black ogre clan to win this battle. Their failure had caused him a big loss that would be difficult for even a being like him to recover from.

"And besides, have you forgotten the entity that lives in the forest? As long as that ancient tree stands, it is nigh impossible to completely capture the forest"

 In fact, the real reason why the forest hasn't been occupied by any demons from the Demon continent so far other than the delicate truce was the existence of the protector of the forest.

An Ancient Titan Treant who had reached a very high level and had stopped the advances of the demon time and time again. It was for his existence coupled with a few others that the Ghastly Winding Forest was still standing.

"This…" As someone who fiercely competed with Gekford for the claim over the forest, how could Arctaurus not know it?

 He knew very well how ridiculous that old monstrous tree was who had lived for a very long time. The Ancient Titan Treant was the main reason he was so afraid to invade the forest.

That said… "If nothing is done, we will become a laughing stock to the whole world". Nôv(el)B\\jnn

 In the last Hexennacht, It wasn't just his pride that had been wounded—it was his authority, his reputation. For a Demon Duke to lose in such a public fashion, and to a Demon Earl no less, was an unforgivable slight.

He had been made a fool in front of the entire Hexennacht, and the other demons had witnessed his downfall with a mixture of surprise and amusement. The insult lingered, festering like an open wound.

Every time he thought back to that night, the memory burned brighter, the shame deeper. It was not just a loss; it was a disgrace, a mark on his reputation that could not be erased.

Gelford silently agreed, he also felt the same. Though in his case, it was more of a personal Vendetta and revenge than any other.

Initially, Gelford hadn't given the Demon Earl much thought. From his perspective, the latter was just another ambitious upstart trying to rise through the ranks by latching onto more powerful allies.

When he saw the Demon Earl standing with Oswell, the prodigy, he had written him off as a leech—someone with no real strength of his own, simply riding the coattails of more established demons to gain recognition.

To Gelford, the Demon Earl was just another fool trying to make a name for himself in the Demon World pretending to be someone worthy of notice. The Demon Earl's audacity at Hexennacht had only solidified Sargel's poor opinion of him.

To challenge the Demon Lord's authority and try to claim the coveted Ghastly Winding Forest was the move of a desperate opportunist, and in Gelford's mind, the Demon Earl was bound to fail spectacularly.

He had watched, expecting them to be crushed under the pressure of the high-ranking demons present and the sheer difficulty of his bid. However, surprising everyone, the latter managed to claim the territory which he had coveted for many centuries.

Although extremely discontent and unresigned by this verdict he had no choice but to accept it. That's right, although he abhorred the demon who hid behind powerful allies to get his way, his impression of the Demon Earl hadn't reached the point where it became incorrigible.

No, in the beginning, despite his disdain, Gelford had even harbored the idea of recruiting the Demon Earl into his faction—the Blood Moon faction. After all, having them under his control would, in essence, would allow him to indirectly claim the Ghastly Winding Forest for himself.

The young Demon Earl would be nothing more than a puppet, and Gelford could pull the strings from behind the scenes. It would have been a tactical victory, and the other party could have been a useful pawn.

He didn't see the Demon Earl as a real threat—more of a minor nuisance who could be brought to heel.

So what changed his stance from recruiting the demon to directly destroying him?

 It was the news that Sargel received after the Hexennacht that solidified his stance not only against the Demon Earl but also against the idea of ever allowing him to live.

The latter had killed his son.

Gelford seethed with barely contained fury as he remembered the news he got from his daughter Delphyne who went to visit the dungeon of one of his sons recently.

That's right, other than the two sitting beside him, he has one more son or rather had. Gelgar, his son... a failure of a son, a disgrace to his bloodline, and a constant reminder of weakness in his lineage.

Gelgar had never lived up to his expectations—too reckless, too weak, and too brash to consider one of his won.

In truth, Gelford had long considered him unworthy of inheriting the family legacy, and had even stripped him of his titles and resources. He was a shame to be called his own.

That said, despite all of Gelgar's shortcomings, despite the embarrassment he brought to the family, Gelgar was still his blood.

In this cutthroat world of demons, power was everything, and to allow his bloodline to be insulted in such a way was a humiliation that he could not ignore.

It wasn't even that Gelford grieved for Gelgar—no, far from it. Gelgar's death in many ways was just the natural conclusion to a life filled with blunders. He had long accepted that Gelgar was too weak to survive in the harsh world of demonkind after all, the latter was just a Demon Viscount without any potential to ascend higher.

If the latter had just died in some corner quietly Gelford might not have even cared. But this? This was different. This was public. This was an insult.

A Demon Earl, no less—someone so far beneath him in status—had dared to kill his flesh and blood, no matter how weak and insignificant that flesh may have been. It wasn't just a personal vendetta anymore; it was a matter of reputation.