Demon Lord: Erotic Adventure in Another World - Chapter 715

Capítulo 715: The Empire’s Darkness

The constant drip of water interrupted Brando’s light, disturbed sleep. His eyes opened to find himself still trapped in the dirty, damp darkness. A faint torchlight flickered through the iron bars that blocked the room.

“Nn… what’s going on?”

Brando’s hoarse voice bounced off the walls, causing the people curled up in the room to groan or complain. He glanced at the shared latrine, squinting.

He’d been brought to this small stone jail without a window a little over a month ago, at least, that’s roughly how long he guessed from the length of his matted beard.

Distant voices reverberated from the long tunnel.

When he pushed his face close to the bars, his body shook from the comfortable cold. Inside a room with seven men, the heat from their bodies could get unbearable. The icy iron pressing against his body, no matter how rough or painful, was a slight comfort.

‘Martha, where are you!?’

Once the pirates kidnapped him, he was dragged into a cheap temporary prison, where dozens of others like himself awaited their bitter future.

They served scraps of fruit and waste for food, while water was lukewarm and dirty… At first, the well-bred merchant suffered greatly. But the longer the time passed, the less he cared. He fell to the level of eating little insects that crawled into the jail for a little boost.

‘The women were given better conditions, but I haven’t seen her…’

After a week in the pirates’ care, a well-dressed man with a seedy face appeared and started to check each of the prisoners. In the end, only Brando and four others were taken from the pirates’ bay.

‘I don’t know where we are…’

The moment they were cuffed and transported to another boat, they were hit over the head and by the time Brando woke up, he was in this bronze cave.

Down the hallway, he could see at least ten jails equal to the one that held him, with at least seventy men all suffering.

“Are we going to sell them to that Imperial as gladiators?” A low, gruff voice spoke in the distance, but thanks to the demon blood from Asmodeus, Brando’s hearing was superior to most humans.

He closed his eyes and focused on the mana in his abdomen before pushing it to his ears, nose and eyes to boost three of his senses further.

“Well, is that for us to decide? The Viscount paid quite a lot of money for this batch, and his territory war with that arrogant baron will start in a few months.” The second voice was equally rough, but sounded at least moderately educated.

“The boss has the last say, but did you see that woman?”

‘Hm?’

Brando’s heart thumped. Hearing about women always made him think of his beloved wife. Curious if it was Martha or not, he clung to the bars tightly.

“Hey you!” A voice sounded from behind, but he ignored it.

“She came with the previous batch, but the boss was really lucky to find a woman so powerful. I heard that when one pirate tried to “Enjoy” her, she bit his thing off, then smashed his skull with her thighs.”

The first voice became excited when discussing the woman.

“Well, the Viscount did offer her better conditions, but the wench didn’t know how to drink the victory wine and obsessed over her husband being found.”

“Gyahahaha, to think she chose to become a gladiator instead of a mistress. That’s something I can’t help but respect. Oh!” The first male suddenly exclaimed, then steps echoed in the distance. “I should return to my post… damn this place stinks.”

“Yeah, let’s go drinking tonight…”

The guards’ conversation seemed to have ended, but the woman Brando heard about, somehow, he couldn’t stop thinking that it might just be his wife.

‘Martha, just wait for me… I’ve been a fool for too long.’

“Oi, you bald bastard!”

A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, yanking him away from the bars.

Brando’s body slammed onto the nasty ground, dirt mixed with sweat and the leaking urine from the broken latrine.

His eyes narrowed as anger swirled in his abdomen, but he couldn’t start now…

‘Calm down. This isn’t worth it.’

“What?” Brando’s low voice sounded fierce, close to the tone of his most trusted brother.

Asmodeus taught Brando how to protect himself after Baltimore began to recover, and he offered to become a merchant fleet for the Demon Empire and Baltimore. From his voice, to his demeanour and actual power… all was taught by the Demon Emperor himself.

“Tsk, this filthy islander, how dare you glare at me!”

The prisoner with dirty brown hair and missing teeth lifted his foot and stomped towards Brando’s face.

“Fucker!”

Brando flung his shoulder off the ground, rolling to his knees skillfully, while glaring at the lanky male facing him. “Let’s not fight, it’s too hot.” He tried to stop the aggression, but the two people who seemed to know the lanky male stirred, and three of the six men began to corner him.

‘These damn racists!’

People from the mainland despised those from the Continent. It wasn’t something hidden, but unlike Asmodeus. Brando’s skin and features resembled those born in Baltimore or Grigor, and so his skin was more tanned with a light blonde beard.

‘Calm yourself, remember what Asmodeus said… gather the mana, keep it dense no matter how little remains.’

As he clenched his muscles, a swirl of pale blue mana formed inside Brando’s stomach. It split slowly into four thick threads that flowed into each of his limbs.

‘Slowly gather it in your limbs, and watch the enemy.’

A surge of comfort spread through his stomach, thighs and arms as the energy left a cooling sensation before he felt a burst of power.

“Oh? You really wanna go?”

The leading male swaggered forward, his lips curled into a disgusting smirk.

This place was truly a cesspit, and only the strongest got to eat. Because he wanted to keep a low profile, Brando had been ignoring the issues. In that time, two small groups formed in this small cell, and he was the last individual.

“Ah, I do.”

The heroic image of Asmodeus fighting alone was imprinted on Brando’s mind.

He lifted both arms, clenching his fists loosely, his waist low and ready to fight against these three fools. After getting news of his wife, or at least he hoped it was her. Brando needed to stick out like a sore thumb.

To be chosen for the gladiator or territory war.

Although he wasn’t from the mainland, Brando could at least recognise the accents.

‘Right now I am in the south… close to the main territory of the Imperial Empire.’

Even if someone was desperate to find him, there might be some time before he could return. He trusted Asmodeus, but didn’t want him to cause diplomatic issues. After meeting the aloof demon emperor, then became the godfather of his son Leon.

Brando couldn’t betray his king, his brother… the man who saved his marriage.

‘My wife is surely worried about our children…’

Thankfully, their children always stayed with the palace maids during winter. Gretel looked after his daughter and son, along with a few others.

Vibrations of energy formed around his fists as Brando felt relieved.

After all, he could trust his brother.

Now, all he needed to do was fight, find his wife and wait for the right time to escape.

‘Simon taught me how to use swords.’

‘Paul when bragging about his wives, showed me magic. I won’t lose to these thugs!’

The three men shifted closer, while Brando’s eyes narrowed, his vision focused on the trio’s movements.

How their muscles twitched, the shift of their feet.

“Boss, let’s just beat him up.”

“Heh, you’re right.”

The lanky male tapped the floor and shot towards Brando with a fierce jab.

His fist aimed for his jaw.

Just as he got close, Brando’s knee shot up and smashed the man’s chin.

With a cry, the lanky male’s teeth shattered, his stance collapsed, and he fell to the ground. The second thug didn’t wait, his fist inches from Brando’s cheek.

Using the momentum of his attack, Brando twisted his hips and avoided the blow. The force sent the second thug forward, allowing Brando to leap off the floor and knee the man in the face, crushing his nose.

“Phew!”

“Shit, the hell are you!?”

The last thug held a makeshift knife made of what seemed to be bone or some kind of resin. It wasn’t any longer than three inches, but the blade was jagged.

Fwish!

With a series of stabs, the man tried to threaten Brando.

He stepped to the side, then pulled back, avoiding the blade, his mana churning faster with each blow, as the last stab pierced the air beside his head.

‘Now!’

Brando pushed off the iron bars, slamming his body into the shoulder of the last thug, with enough force to lift him in the air.

He grabbed the male with both arms and, with a low grunt and slammed him into the latrine.

Splish!

A slimy wet wave of shit sprayed the male’s face as he gasped.

The tragic sight made Brando feel bad, watching the male swallow several months’ worth of waste… his face turning pale.

But he wouldn’t stop here.

He squatted and grabbed the sharp blade and flicked it around his fingertips. Although small, it could easily kill someone.

With a serious expression, he looked at the three thugs.

“Well, are you done fighting, now?”

‘Asmodeus said that I should meditate to increase my strength…’

Brando closed his eyes and sat down, closing his eyes and with a loud sigh, began to cycle his mana through his body.

With each cycle, even the merchant Brando could feel the effects, a cooling sensation that refreshed his fatigue, the feeling of hunger faded and… the amount increased by a few tiny grains each time.

‘I should have listened to you sooner, my Emperor.’

The trust in his wife and Asmodeus brought a sense of focus to Brando.

His only goal now was to get stronger!