The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Chapter 1668 470: The Farmer and the King (Part 3)

Although the Governor's Mansion in Twilight City remained shrouded in mystery and intrigue, that black cloud only covered the top of the Governor's Mansion.

Ordinary people couldn't even feel its presence.

For example, Burton, who lived in Griffin Cliff Territory, was one of them. He couldn't see it, nor did he care; no matter who became the lord, his village would remain the same, poor.

The happiest moment of his life was at the age of twenty when he found a piece of unwanted good timber in the forest and replaced the beam in his house that was about to collapse.

He still remembers the look in his wife and son's eyes at that time, as if they were looking at a great hero.

Because that memory was too profound, he even remembers the final moments.

At that time, he was resting on the threshold, his wife was hanging clothes in the yard, and his five-year-old son was chasing a butterfly, running all over the place.

The sun was warm, and the air was filled with the scent of grass and soil.

Later, he fell asleep, until his son giggled and woke him up, saying Uncle Rose next door, the blacksmith, was looking for him to deliver a batch of goods to the castle.

He wasn't a knight or a noble, just a cart driver for deliveries. His lifelong pursuit was actually just such an ordinary and warm afternoon.

Unfortunately—

The peace he longed for suddenly disappeared, and he didn't know from which day.

Even though there's a sign of those beautiful days returning now, he couldn't sit idly and rest on the threshold as before.

Because once he closes his eyes, that moment of tranquility would be shattered by bloody nightmares.

Sounds of killing echoed everywhere, women and children cried out in despair. Behind the heavy smoke, there's the distorted, manic laughter of "Executioner" Ah Ka under the flames.

That lunatic said he would kill all followers of Saint Sis, but he slaughtered not just priests and nuns; anyone not joining his madness was tortured.

At that time, Burton was delivering goods to the lord, and both people and goods were forcibly taken by Ah Ka's troops, turning from the lord's driver to Green Forest Army's driver.

That could be considered fortunate.

After all, horse riding was a skill, as was feeding horses; the Green Forest Army could still use him, so they didn't cut him down with a knife.

Those soldiers suffered old grievances, clearly taken by the lord for labor, yet they were chopped up and stuffed into the bloody altar... One mate was even his fellow villager.

These Chaos' Apostles were not only cruel to enemies but even harsher to their own people!

He saw with his own eyes Ah Ka's subordinates hang three Green Turbans who tried to escape on trees, discussing laughably unheard torture methods, like inserting bark under nails, slow-roasting lamb steak... Things humans simply wouldn't think of!

In the army, Burton lived in fear every day, only dared to lower his head and feed the horses well, fearing being targeted by those lunatics.

Finally one day, a man carrying a great sword stood up, followed by a group carrying another flag.

Seeing that invincible army thoroughly defeated, Burton didn't even have time to feel the joy of victory, he immediately escaped in the chaos.

He threw away the turban on his head, and anything that might expose his identity, carrying only supplies he found in the chaos.

He fled like a frightened mouse across the scarred lands of the Earl Domain, until everything settled before daring to return to his village.

When he appeared in rags at his doorstep, his wife almost didn't recognize him.

Until he used his hoarse voice to call out her name, the woman, thin like a reed, burst into a voluminous cry, rushing up to hug him tightly.

He remembers she only said one thing.

"As long as you're alive."

The afternoon when the family embraced and cried was the second most precious moment in Burton's life.

Afterwards, he told everyone he met that he was delivering goods for the lord and encountered green bandits, almost losing his life.

Thanks to Saint Sis's blessing, he fled to the mountains, hiding deep in the mountains until recently daring to come home.

Burton dared not say he also wore that damned turban, that memory was like a dirty stamp on his buttocks, even if he had borne it under duress.

The villagers accepted his story, after all, everyone knew this honest and simple man, never suspecting him to be involved.

Everything seemed to return to peace, besides Burton occasionally waking from nightmares, there was no one to disturb him.

However, peaceful days didn't last long.

Terrible rumors began circulating in the village, saying a group of black-robed troops marched into Griffin Cliff Territory.

Those black-robed warriors were silent and efficient, showed no mercy, like machines that didn't emit steam.

They claimed to be the "Judgement Court" from Holy City, directly responsible to the Pope, capturing all remnants related to "Green Turban."

The chaos invasion was over, yet these capable warriors emerged only recently.

Burton swallowed his saliva, instinctively wanting to avoid this topic, yet couldn't help but feel it had to do with him, ultimately joining the conversation.

"…These guys claim to be the Judgement Court, but they never judge, only kill."

The carpenter back from town lowered his voice, face full of terror, like he had seen an undead.

"The blacksmith from the neighboring village was hanged on the tree at the village entrance, just for repairing a few blades for those Green Turbans!"

"When did this happen?!"