Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT) novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The venerable one

In the shrouded darkness, the nearby villages were dead silent. Their doors and windows bolted shut as though abandoned. The rivers that were once lively with fishermen casting their nets, women washing clothes by the banks and children jumping in for a swim were now still and lifeless. Mountains held their breath, their ancient contours etched with trepidation.

What were they so afraid of? The blood-red moon hanging high in the night was all telling. It was an ominous event that only took place once a year and for centuries the rivers would be turned to blood and bodies would be strewn all over the villages with the choking smell of death lingering in the air.

But over the past decade, there had been no incidences except for the ghostly sounds of gongs and drums coming from beyond the mountains. It was for this reason that some villagers didn't temporarily leave but they were still huddled in their homes not daring to breathe too loud.

Beyond the mountains at the forest's edge was a mist-shrouded valley. The mist was like a sinister veil clinging to every twisted tree and withered blade of grass. The air itself tasted of decay, a poison seeping into the very soil. Here, there was no life, its last breath stolen by the insatiable maw of darkness.

The thick mist coiled around ancient stones and gnarled roots. Its tendrils reached out like a parasite seeking something to devour. This was the gateway to the northern demon realm. Any foolhardy mortal who dared venture here would find themselves ensnared.

The mist would wrap around their limbs, their breath stolen, their senses dulled. They would stumble deeper, eyes wide with terror until the world outside faded to a distant echo. And then, they would be lost, never to be seen again.

Far beyond the mist was the infamous demon realm. The streets, despite their ominous backdrop, were filled with life. It was a great disparity when compared to the valley of death. _{freewёbnoνel.com}

Demons of all kinds walked over the cobbled paths, their grotesque forms swaying to an otherworldly rhythm. Horned imps with eyes like molten gold danced alongside sinewy demons, their skin shimmering in the eerie glow. The scent of incense and roasted meats hung heavy, masking the underlying decay.

The parade was a macabre carnival. Gongs and drums reverberated, their rhythm discordant yet intoxicating. A procession of demons, their faces painted in grotesque masks, pushed a large statue. It was a twisted model of their demon king. Its eyes glowed with malefic intent, and its fingers clutched a serrated whip its length, sinuous and cruel, bearing jagged edges that seemed to hunger for flesh.