492 Forge a new Road (2/2)

Talroth leisurely replied before crossing the carpeted stairs to reach his purple throne and sit within. The words gave Malkam no relief. Worse, he trembled while his face twisting in a succession of horrid grimaces. From Talroth's tone, it didn't take a genius to realize that the Southern King firmly believed Konrad to still be alive. Those were tragic news.

With an abrupt spin, Malkam turned to face Talroth who'd already closed his eyes to fall in silent cultivation. That throne was the equivalent of a cultivation mat, and one of Talroth's most precious commodities. But seeing the leisurely look his father boasted, Malkam felt confusion add to his apprehension.

”How can you remain so relaxed? The situation is horrible. In the past, we only had to worry about the likes of Dolgron and the Overlord, but now that that monstrosity appeared, all have become inconsequential. Unless he perishes, in the future, won't we all have to grovel before him? But that is only one issue. More importantly, he clearly brings with him enemies that the combined might of Heaven and Hell can't afford to offend. Being linked to him will undoubtedly lead us into a catastrophe. And for what? The right to kiss his boots?!”

Malkam snarled, unable to comprehend how the shrewd Talroth could allow things to progress in such a manner. Clearly, he'd been paying attention to Konrad's growth. When it stepped into dangerous territory, why didn't he stop him?!

”My Crown Prince is well-known for his filial piety. How could he have his father grovel? Also, what are you worrying about? Let's assume for one second that those Primordial Entities realize the connection. Do you think they will care for ants of your caliber? I'm not trying to bring down troop morale but we're talking about entities that most likely look down on Overgods.

Perhaps to them, letting us breathe in their presence is an incommensurable glory. How could they bother with trampling you?”

Talroth replied without opening his eyes, causing the trembling Malkam to flounder in indignation. Indeed, his father spoke true. Before the likes of the Chthonian Primogen and that woman, even the Overlord couldn't raise any waves, to say nothing of an early-stage Legendary God such as he.

And having always been proud of his bloodline and cultivation talent, Malkam couldn't endure this truth.

”I know what you're thinking. You were born one million years ago at the Minor God Rank, honored as the only true Pureblood Demon of the second generation, and after one million years, finally reached the Legendary God Rank, but are forced to accept that you're not qualified to scrub your 258 years old brother's shoes.

I admit, it's a harsh blow. But look at it in a different way. If in less than three centuries, he can trample the Overlord and the Warden, in another three hundred years, perhaps that woman won't be able to resist ten of his moves. You will soon be a relative of the Omniverse's Ruler. Isn't that a good compromise?”

Talroth inquired with a taunting smirk. Those words were the last straw, and Malkam snapped.

”Loads of horseshit! Who wants to spend eternity in the shadow of a bastard? Royal father, although the world gave you the title of Lord of Lust, in truth, you are the Father of Domination. All demons descending from you yearn to trample all. It's in our blood...because of you!

All along, you've coveted the lordship over Hell and the rest of the Three Realms! I refuse to believe that you, of all people, can accept living in the shadow of your son!”

Malkam bellowed while indexing Talroth for emphasis.

But little did he expect that the echo of those words would only produce a mild sigh from Talroth's lips.

”Alas, I am a Son of Hell and cannot go against its will. So long as Hell's Will stands, we are its puppets. Even if by some majestic miracle my strength caught up to that of those entities, Hell's Will could still control me.

That being the case, instead of yearning for what we cannot have, we might as well forge a new road.”