Becoming the Demon Lord: Taming the Demon Queen Begins

Chapter 393 Oh? Smash my head?

The chaotic Demonic Sect had bowed to him, crowning him the Demon Emperor, and solidifying Netherspire Citadel as the most powerful Demonic Sect.

Zalroth's strength was beyond question.

But those deep, pitch-black eyes that turned toward Timothy were anything but friendly.

In fact, there was a faint, unmistakable trace of killing intent in the air.

"What brings you to Netherspire Citadel?"

Zalroth's voice was low and commanding, causing the demonic cultivators on either side to stand at attention, clearly in awe of him.

Timothy responded with a casual calmness, "In three days, the Goddess will hold a summit at Sky Sanctuary, gathering all the sects under the heavens. I'm here to deliver her letter."

"The Goddess's letter?"

Zalroth let out a cold laugh, his eyes now openly filled with icy disdain.

"If Goddess Sylvia had come herself, I might've welcomed her. But you? You're not worthy."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly with those words.

"Timothy of Sky Sanctuary, do you even realize the crime you've committed?"

Suddenly, a large, imposing demonic cultivator, his aura thick with dark energy, shouted angrily from the side.

Before Timothy could respond, another demonic cultivator, eyes bloodshot, glared at him with murderous intent. "You were once a disciple of the Demonic Sect, but you betrayed us and became a follower of Goddess Sylvia. There's only one punishment for that—death!"

"Death!"

The word echoed through the dark, eerie hall, as the demonic cultivators on both sides began shouting in unison.

Thick black mist, as if feeding off their rage, sealed off the path Timothy had come from.

The entire Netherspire Citadel was now suffused with a suffocating killing intent, pressing down from all sides.

"Now you understand, don't you? Do you still think you can deliver that letter to me?"

Zalroth finally spoke again, his voice laced with mocking amusement.

"Of course. If I didn't think I could, why would I have come here?"

Despite the overwhelming hostility, Timothy smiled calmly.

He glanced around, showing not the slightest hint of fear. In fact, it was as if he didn't even take them seriously.

"This kid… he's not even giving us the time of day!"

"Bastard! Do you really think that just because Goddess Sylvia has your back, she can protect you? You came here alone to Netherspire Citadel, and the only thing waiting for you is death!"

"Yeah, kill him!"

Timothy's attitude instantly ignited the fury of the demonic cultivators. Their angry shouts reverberated through the Citadel, and their eyes burned with a desire to tear him apart.

But just then, Zalroth raised his hand, signaling for silence.

Immediately, the entire Citadel fell into an eerie stillness.

"How exactly do you think, in your current situation, that you'll manage to deliver that letter to me?"

Zalroth's lips curled into a cold smile. He seemed curious about Timothy's confidence, but the killing intent in the air only grew thicker.

Timothy smiled faintly. "Oh, it's simple. My plan's simple too."

He paused, then added with a smirk, "I'll just smash your head in, and then I can hand you the letter, no problem. Whether you're dead or alive doesn't really matter to me."

The moment those words left his mouth, the air seemed to freeze.

Even the demonic cultivators, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, stared at Timothy with wide eyes, utterly shocked.

They couldn't believe what they had just heard.

"Smash the Demon Emperor's head?"

No one had ever dared to utter such madness.

And here he was, standing alone, surrounded by enemies, in the heart of Netherspire Citadel!

They had long known about Timothy's past.

Before joining Sky Sanctuary, this kid had been nothing more than a reject, someone even the Demonic Sect didn't deem worthy of being a disciple. Sure, he seemed to have some talent, and his cultivation had progressed quickly, but in just a year? There was no way he could have grown that much.

What could he possibly be relying on to show such blatant disrespect to the Demon Emperor?

"Oh? Smash my head?"

Zalroth, seated on his throne of bones, suddenly burst into laughter, his voice growing increasingly manic.

"Hahaha, it's been so long since I've heard someone say something like that. How amusing."

But just as suddenly, the laughter stopped.

Zalroth's gaze locked onto Timothy, and the killing intent in his eyes intensified, sharp and overwhelming.

A suffocating pressure filled the hall, spreading in all directions. "But I'd like to see what makes you think you have the right to say such things!"

"If I dared to say it, then I must have the right."

Timothy's response was calm, his smile unbothered, as if the oppressive atmosphere didn't faze him in the slightest.

"Hey, you can't just joke around like that!"

In the vast, dark hall, the crushing pressure from all sides, combined with the murderous intent of the snarling demonic cultivators, made Azura's face pale slightly.

She knew all too well that the eccentric Demon Emperor alone was not someone to be trifled with, let alone the fact that they were standing in his stronghold.

Although Azura had always believed in Timothy's strength, in this situation, she couldn't help but doubt whether he could remain as calm as he appeared.

After all, they were facing the most powerful Demonic Sect and a Holy Emperor!

"Don't worry. Just stay behind me and keep quiet."

Hearing the fear in Azura's voice, Timothy gently stroked her soft hair, his tone soothing.

"Wait, do you really have a way to deal with him? But…"

Azura was stunned when she caught Timothy's gaze.

In his eyes, there wasn't a trace of fear.

Not even the slightest hint of hesitation.

Timothy simply smiled and didn't respond.

Because from the moment he stepped into Netherspire Citadel, he had already noticed something.

Beyond the eerie atmosphere, the murals etched into the walls of the Citadel caught his attention—two snakes, one black and one white, coiled around each other, and a chessboard with no pieces.

These images were carved into the ceiling of Netherspire Citadel, surrounded by powerful protective formations.

Clearly, these murals weren't just decorative. They were revered, held in the highest regard by the Citadel.

And the black-and-white snakes and the empty chessboard felt oddly familiar to Timothy.

"The Enigma Chessboard!"

These murals were a tribute to Holy Emperor Aldric, the one who wielded the Enigma Chessboard.

Holy Emperor Aldric, known as the Chess Emperor, was infamous for his arrogance—so arrogant, in fact, that he once challenged the heavens to a game.

The fact that Netherspire Citadel revered the long-dead Holy Emperor Aldric to such an extent showed that they, especially Zalroth, the Demon Emperor, yearned to possess the same unrestrained arrogance as Aldric.

And there was only one way to deal with people like that.

You had to beat them into submission.

Timothy's gaze met Zalroth's, and the aura around him began to rise, swirling slowly.

As it spread through the hall, the eyes of the demonic cultivators widened in shock. Experience more content on empire

That aura—it was unmistakably the presence of a Holy Emperor!