After Switching Bodies with the Villainous Demon Lord - Chapter 10

Duan Ze half-ran, half-sprinted all the way there, and even burned a high-grade teleportation talisman in desperation, finally managing to appear in front of the Demon Realm army just before they lost patience and launched a full assault.

From a distance, the entire army looked like a massive black tide, thick with demonic energy that surged skyward, sending birds and spiritual beasts in the nearby mountains scattering in a panic.

Up close, Duan Ze realized the Demon Realm’s army wasn’t as sloppy or reckless as those Yunxiao Sect disciples inside had imagined.

No, this was a surprisingly well-trained, disciplined, and fully equipped force.

At the very front were several dozen three-meter-tall, third-rank bear-lion demonic beasts, all glossy-furred and muscular. Their riders wore black armor, and from what Duan Ze could see, none of them had weak cultivation.

Behind them were three even larger fifth-rank demon elephants, each with four tusks. A platform was mounted on their backs, bearing flags of the Demon Realm that flapped in the wind—majestic and intimidating.

Honestly, if a real battle broke out, the Demon Realm might not even lose. That is, if Duan Ze and Xiao Wuchen didn’t get involved.

Among the three demon elephants, the one in the middle was clearly the most elegant. Atop its platform sat a ferocious dragon throne covered in beast pelts. Next to it stood an old man in a brown robe, clearly the highest-ranking member of this army.

Duan Ze recognized him somewhat. When he first transmigrated into the Demon Lord’s body, this old man was the first person he saw.

Judging by how the others addressed him, this was Lu Cheng—the Grand Elder of the Demon Clan who had served three generations of Demon Lords. He had watched Xiao Wuchen grow up, though their relationship wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.

Lu Cheng’s cultivation was powerful. The moment Duan Ze appeared at the front of the army, those hawk-like sharp eyes of his lit up with joy. He waved his hand, commanding the army to stop. Then, with his robes trailing behind his lean frame, he quickly descended from the demon elephant and half-knelt before Duan Ze.

“Lord, thank the heavens you’re safe.”

Duan Ze glanced around. A moment later, the delayed reaction from the Demon soldiers kicked in—when they realized who was standing at the very front, all that overwhelming momentum from before vanished instantly. Tens of thousands of soldiers dropped to their knees in unison, awaiting their Lord’s orders.

“What are you doing here?” Duan Ze adjusted his sleeves, doing his best to imitate Xiao Wuchen’s classic grumpy scowl.

Hearing that displeased tone, everyone kneeling felt a chill down their spines. They couldn’t help but resent Lu Cheng for dragging them all out to “rescue” the Demon Lord, who clearly looked completely fine.

Cold sweat trickled into Lu Cheng’s eyes, and he blinked rapidly to ease the sting before replying, “We received your message, Lord, and assumed…”

The words “you were in danger” stuck in his throat—he knew saying them might not end well.

“I see. No need to worry—everything’s fine now. The timing isn’t right yet. Head back early.” Duan Ze, of course, knew why they’d come. Still, as the Demon Lord, it was appropriate to ask and show some care for his subordinates.

He bent down slightly, reaching out as if to help Lu Cheng up. “Stand up, all of you. I appreciate your concern.”

But before his hand could touch the elder’s arm, Lu Cheng trembled, his face twitching slightly as his eyes reddened. He sniffled and stood up on his own.

Duan Ze’s hand grasped empty air. He paused, then silently retracted it.

The soldiers around them also stood up in silence—some of them even teared up quietly.

This was the first time their Demon Lord had ever spoken to them like this. That sudden, unexpected warmth pierced straight through their chests. So touched!

Duan Ze: “…?”

“Please, this way, Lord.” Lu Cheng gave a respectful nod and stepped aside. The nearby soldiers quickly parted, revealing the central demon elephant.

The beast had already lowered itself to its knees like some well-trained chauffeur. On its trunk was a flat platform for stepping up—but it was still a bit high off the ground. A waiting servant knelt beside it, arching his back to form a step for the Demon Lord to use.

Duan Ze looked at all this pomp and fuss for just getting on the elephant, and felt incredibly awkward.

He quickened his pace, pushed off the ground, tapped once on the trunk platform, and did a smooth mid-air flip before landing gracefully on the elephant’s back. He glanced down at the servant and then at Lu Cheng, who had stepped on the servant’s back to get up himself, and turned to sit casually on the beast-pelted dragon throne. “Let’s go.”

That look Duan Ze gave him made Lu Cheng’s heart skip a beat. He lowered his gaze and stood beside his Lord, quickly reviewing every possible mistake he could’ve made.

After a long moment, he landed on one truly baffling conclusion:

Was the Lord glaring at him… because he stepped on that servant?

…No way. Couldn’t be.

Lu Cheng stood there, on edge, all because of a single look, while the culprit himself lounged lazily in the soft furs of the throne. His eyes grew drowsy as the gentle swaying of the elephant rocked him into relaxation.

His fingers unconsciously played with the storage ring on his hand. From one perspective, he’d already achieved the goal of going to Cangyu Sect.

Originally, Duan Ze went to get his years of savings—and also to prevent his practice of forbidden techniques from being exposed.

Now the money was secure, and since Xiao Wuchen was occupying his body, he wouldn’t blow his own cover until they switched back.

Feeling accomplished, Duan Ze let out a long exhale. The man beside him, hearing the sound, quickly snapped out of his worried thoughts and turned his gaze forward. “We’re almost there.”

The Demon Realm’s imperial city wasn’t exactly close to Cangyu Sect, but with cultivators like these, crossing dozens of miles in a single step wasn’t a big deal.

Before nightfall, the whole crew had marched back in grand formation.

As they neared, the demonic aura in the air thickened visibly. Duan Ze sat up straighter, shedding the lazy air from earlier. He rose from the dragon throne—he’d been wanting to get a good look at the Demon Realm for a while, and now was finally the chance.

Flicking his sleeves and clasping his hands behind his back, he looked out over the land below.

Lu Cheng blinked in confusion at the gesture.

What’s the Lord doing now…?

The nearby soldiers saw the Demon Lord suddenly rise and immediately straightened their backs, marching with perfect posture, terrified of being singled out for punishment.

The Demon Realm had its own social hierarchy. Upper-class demon cultivators were usually educated, able to control their desires and bloodlust to a degree, and were often powerful. Most of them served as soldiers or officials under the Demon Lord.

Lower-class demons were the opposite—easily ruled by emotion, lacking morals, and solving everything through brute strength. They lived in wastelands, relying on raids to survive.

But regardless of class, whenever the Demon Lord passed by, everyone—high or low—would freeze and kneel in reverence, trembling.

From the moment he re-entered the Demon Realm, Duan Ze had seen nothing but desolation. The land was barren and lifeless.

Occasionally, he passed groups of lower-class demons kneeling on the ground—skin and bones, eyes dull. Further off, others wandered aimlessly through dead forests and cracked soil.

A land steeped in misery.

If I could turn this wasteland into something thriving…

Suddenly, Duan Ze felt his long-dormant civil engineering soul come roaring back to life. Logically speaking, the only difference between the Demon Realm and the cultivation world was spiritual energy versus demonic energy. Anything that could grow there should grow here too.

But in reality, the demons didn’t bother farming. The vast lands had all turned to barren waste. On the way back, Duan Ze had noticed a Nether River running close to the Demon Realm’s border—if the rainy season hit hard, floods were likely.

To prevent disaster, the first step was planting more trees. Once the soil improved, they could grow crops. Solve hunger first, then tackle education.

Duan Ze glanced again at the kneeling lower demons. Real change had to start at the grassroots.

By the time the sky had fully darkened, Duan Ze finally returned to the imperial palace. As he dismounted the demon elephant, he found rows of sedan chairs already waiting at the palace gates, with lines of guards and maids kneeling in greeting.

“Welcome home, my Lord!”

Duan Ze took one look at their pale faces, sweat-drenched temples, and wobbly stances—some looked like they might faint. Frowning, he asked, “How long have you been kneeling here?”

“After the Grand Elder left, we’ve been waiting here since then, my Lord,” one of the guards in front replied.

Duan Ze’s eyes widened slightly.

They’d been kneeling nearly a whole day. What if a real battle had broken out? What if he was delayed for ten days or more? Would they just kneel here to death?

“Everyone up. I won’t be taking the sedan tonight.”

At first, no one moved. They exchanged confused glances, not trusting their ears.

“What? My words don’t carry weight anymore?” Duan Ze added a little steel to his tone.

That did the trick. Everyone jolted like lightning had struck them, then immediately dropped to the ground again, trembling as they cried, “Your servants deserve death! We deserve death!”

Duan Ze pinched the bridge of his nose, headache incoming. “Then get lost already!”

“Yes, my Lord!” Like receding waves, the crowd scattered in seconds.

Duan Ze turned to the soldiers behind him and pointed to a few of the ministers who had previously helped plan the attack on Cangyu Sect. “You three stay. Everyone else, dismissed.”

The named ministers stiffened up at once. After getting off the demon elephant, they huddled in a corner, throwing envious glances at the lucky ones retreating into the distance.

Once the crowd had fully dispersed, Duan Ze stuffed his hands into his sleeves and said, “You go on ahead. I’ll join you in the Main Hall.”

“We obey, my Lord.” Led by the Grand Elder, the ministers dared not think of anything else. Eyes lowered, they scurried off toward the Main Hall.

Duan Ze trailed behind, mentally mapping out the route from the palace gates to the Main Hall.

The palace was huge. By the time they arrived, over an hour had passed. The ministers were drenched in sweat, feeling like the walk had been harder than any battle.

Seated once more on the dragon throne, Duan Ze picked up a cup of warm tea that had been waiting for him, took a sip, and said, “Don’t be so nervous. I only called you here to prepare some things.”

If Xiao Wuchen had discussed plans to attack Cangyu Sect with these ministers, they had to be somewhat trustworthy.

“What do you need, my Lord? We’ll do everything in our power.”

Duan Ze glanced at their respectful faces, took another sip of tea, then set the cup aside and began listing the things he needed one by one.

By the time the meeting ended and everyone left, it was already well past midnight.

Duan Ze had a great memory, and thanks to the guards leading the way earlier, he now easily found his own sleeping quarters. Everything was exactly as he had left it—nothing changed.

He took a quick bath, lay down, started sorting his thoughts, and promptly fell asleep hugging a pillow.

The next morning, the Demon Lord stepped out of his chambers bright and early. He looked at the flourishing mulberry hazel tree growing nearby, then turned to the kneeling minister at his door. The man’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw him, and he pulled a bundle of fresh saplings from his storage ring. “My Lord! I’ve already prepared what you asked for!”

He’s faster than anyone else!

Only for the Demon Lord to frown slightly, lips parting in a hoarse, sleepy voice, “Who told you to prepare these?”

⸻

Author’s Note:

The minister, “So tired… oh so tired…”