The Demon King’s Precious Little Angel - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Celoa Lacks Vigilance He fell into a warm

After handling her affairs, Celine hurried back to the forest. She didn’t expect Droville to take particularly good care of the child; in her mind, the fact that the boy was still alive and healthy was an achievement in itself, given that Droville was someone who could barely look after himself.

She imagined Celoa would be terrified of him, likely counting down the days until her return.

However, when Celine brushed aside the withered vines blocking her view, she was met with a scene that was utterly inconceivable.

Droville was sitting against a great tree, his head tilted back against the dry, cracked bark. He looked exhausted. One leg was bent upward to support his arm in a relaxed posture.

His other leg was stretched out flat on the ground, serving as a pillow for Celoa. The boy’s cheek was pressed against Droville’s knee, his body curled up with his hands balled into tiny fists near his lips. He was sleeping soundly—a posture that radiated a complete sense of security.

Celine raised an eyebrow in surprise. She had no intention of waking the boy; it was rare for a child to get such a good rest in this environment, and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin his dreams. She approached them with light steps.

Before she could reach them, Droville’s eyes snapped open with sharp alertness. He shot her a cold glance, but upon recognizing her, he let out an impatient “tsk” and closed his eyes again.

Celine hadn’t seen him this drained in a long time; it was almost a novelty. Looking around, she noticed a pile of broken wooden branches on the ground, each vibrating with residual mana. She knelt down to poke at them, and a stray shard of sword qi immediately sliced her fingertip.

She pressed the wound to her lips, tasting the faint tang of iron.

“With this much power… just how many times did he have to swing his sword to leave this much energy behind?”

She gave Droville a strange look, suspecting the man had spent the entire night practicing his swordsmanship without a moment of rest.

A moment later, Celoa opened his eyes. He looked dazed upon waking, but he recognized Celine instantly. He rubbed his eyes to ensure it wasn’t a hallucination, and his gaze lit up like a thousand stars.

He scrambled to his feet with frantic energy and lunged forward, hitting Celine like a small cannonball. He hugged her tightly, rubbing his cheek affectionately against hers.

“Celine,” he acted like a spoiled child, his voice soft and sweet. “I missed you so much while you were gone.”

Celine’s lips curled into a natural smile. She reached out to rub Celoa’s head, captivated by the silky smoothness of his hair. Unconsciously, her voice softened until it was sweet enough to drip honey. “I missed you too, little Celoa. You seem to have fared quite well these past few days.”

Celoa hummed shyly. He lowered his voice, not wanting Droville to overhear, and began to praise him: “Dro was very good to me. He made me delicious food and took me to play. Most, most, most importantly, he taught me swordsmanship! I feel like I’ve become super powerful all of a sudden!” He spread his arms wide to draw a massive circle in the air, his face flushed with excitement.

Celine couldn’t help but laugh again. She leaned down to pinch Celoa’s cheek, her eyes darting toward Droville as if to say, Look how cute this child I picked up is.

Droville watched lazily but offered no opinion. He simply picked up his sword and fastened it back to his waist.

“Celoa, keep up,” he commanded calmly.

Celine watched as the little fellow—who usually let her poke and prod him without resistance—showed a conflicted expression. He carefully grabbed a corner of her hem and suggested, “Celine, let’s walk first, okay? Once we arrive, I’ll let you pinch me as much as you want.”

Celine found this amusing. She purposely put on a sad face. “But I want to pinch you now. Does Celoa love Dro more since he listens to him so much?”

Celoa panicked. He didn’t realize she was teasing him. He earnestly buried his face into Celine’s hands and even raised his own small hands to help her squish his cheeks. His lips were pouted, and sweat beads of anxiety formed on his nose. Because his face was being squeezed, his voice was muffled and slurry, but incredibly sincere.

“No! I like Celine super much too! You can pinch me however you want, but Dro has big things to do. We can’t hold him back.”

“Celine and Dro are tied for first place in my heart!”

Droville watched from the side with his arms crossed. He frowned with a hint of displeasure, his voice carrying a faint warning: “Celine, stop playing with him.”

Celine waved him off, shrugging helplessly. “The child is so cute. You really don’t understand the joy of this at all.”

She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Celoa’s in an affectionate gesture. “Good boy, I’m not angry with you. Let’s follow Dro together and see him ‘do big things’.”

Droville frowned again at her words. This time, he didn’t wait; he turned and walked directly toward the edge of the forest. Celine took Celoa’s hand and followed.

As the trio moved forward, Celoa carefully observed the scenery. He realized that they had unknowingly reached the outskirts of the forest. In just a few hours, they would be out.

“Isn’t the ‘big thing’ inside the forest?” he asked, puzzled.

In his memory, Carrion Beasts were supposed to be more dangerous the closer one got to the Abyss, which was located at the very heart of the forest. If they were to solve a major problem, they should be heading inward.

He clenched his fists, feeling a bit uneasy. Are they planning to send me out first before dealing with the danger?

Celine shook her head with a smile. “Normally, yes, we would look for them in the depths. But in reality, the Carrion Beasts at the edge of the forest are the most dangerous. Only those who have defeated all their kind and continuously devoured other monsters can successfully reach the edge to move toward the rest of the Demon Realm.”

Celoa’s heart settled. He peered around curiously, trying to spot any signs of a Carrion Beast. To his surprise, the forest seemed normal, as if the monster they were looking for didn’t exist.

Droville suddenly stopped. He glanced back and warned, “I won’t be able to look after you in a moment. Remember to stay out of the way.”

Celoa immediately went on high alert, nodding seriously as he stood on his tiptoes, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Celine remained relaxed, standing in a protective stance near the boy.

Without warning, Droville launched his sword.

The sharp sword light smashed into a pitch-black cave ahead with the speed of a thunderbolt, resulting in a deafening boom. Celoa could clearly hear the sound of rocks tumbling inside.

Then, a translucent, unidentified mass squeezed out of the cave. It looked like a mound of flowing liquid. Except for its immovable core, the rest of its body morphed fluidly. Countless eyeball-like orbs rolled within its transparent interior. It was so clear that Celoa could see its internal organs and the half-digested remains of other monsters.

His eyes widened in shock. He never expected that a Carrion Beast, a creature of the most severe pollution, would actually look so “pure.”

Droville’s brow furrowed, a flash of disgust in his eyes. He swung his sword with increasing speed, sending out arcs of light that wrapped around the beast before stabbing deep into it.

Celoa faintly heard the creature’s pained wail. Several large globs of liquid fell to the ground and began to move—some fled, while others lunged recklessly at Droville.

Just as they were about to touch him, the transparent liquid suddenly turned pitch-black. It seemed to vomit something out; a small hole appeared in its center, and massive amounts of demonic miasma—the Abyssal Miasma—billowed out.

Celine straightened her back, murmuring, “Has it evolved to this extent? To lock the miasma inside its body without being consumed by it?”

Celoa, standing by Celine’s side and watching Droville intently, immediately corrected her. “No, this isn’t evolution. It’s regression. Their souls have been completely eroded. The miasma has its own consciousness; when it can’t fully control a monster, it chooses to erode the body instead, sucking out life force to strengthen itself.”

“If the monster’s body can carry the power but the spirit is too weak to resist, the miasma occupies the body and turns it into a puppet. The monster no longer absorbs power for itself when it eats; it provides everything to the miasma.”

“So, the Carrion Beasts at the outskirts are the failures. They are essentially just the miasma itself. The successful ones must be near the Abyss, where a monster might actually dominate its own body while actively containing the miasma.”

Celine rubbed her chin and nodded thoughtfully. “Celoa, that’s amazing. You’ve given me a perspective I never considered.”

Celoa hadn’t expected to speak so much. As soon as he finished, he realized what he’d done. His face turned bright red, and he lowered his head in embarrassment, wishing he could squat down and turn into a mushroom.

But the joy of being praised overwhelmed him. He couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. He hid his face from Celine and let out a soft, silent giggle.

The Carrion Beasts at the outskirts were indeed not hard to deal with. The miasma possessed only basic instincts—raw power without the wisdom to use it. In combat, they were actually less threatening than the first one Celoa had encountered.

Droville withdrew his sword. Around him was a vast expanse of black residue—all that remained of the slain beasts. He tilted his chin toward the cave, and Celine understood instantly. The three of them entered to investigate.

“Ying… ying… ying…”

Celoa heard the weak cry of a young beast. He looked up alertly, observing the dying cub lying in the grass from a distance. Recalling the low-intelligence nature of the miasma, he tentatively threw a stone at it.

There was no retaliation. The cub looked at him with pure, innocent eyes. Even when hit, it only let out two small whimpers.

Celoa let out a breath and carefully reached out his hand, intending to pick up the poor creature.

At the very moment his fingers were about to touch it, the cub suddenly lunged upward. Its eyes were filled with a thick, murderous malice.

Celoa’s pupils contracted. He instinctively squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled back.

But the expected pain never came.

Celoa fell into a warm embrace.