Demi-human Girls Completion Manual Chapter 1502 - 70: True Nature (3)

Perhaps it was just those ancient Demon Gods using Little Demons to fill in numbers, or cursing the other races to turn their offspring into Little Demons, thus spreading this rumor.

I still remember the first time I met Elliog, she mentioned this saying, asking Fisher if he wanted her to carry Little Demons.

This sentence had a double meaning, but now Fisher roughly realizes that Elliog was merely teasing him at the time.

Apart from Little Demons, there is a higher class known as Demon Servants, which come in many forms and shapes, much like their Upper Demon Gods—hardly seeming like one species. The Enchanting Demon is one of them.

But Fisher mentions this because Demon Servants are not like the sealed Demon Gods. They can freely roam this world, so how could they long lack the absorption of Fallen Self?

"Ah, we... according to human classification, are indeed Demon Servants. More accurately, we were once servant demons under Lord Sidi and Lord Celeos, but that was a very long time ago. My name is... Mitra, a servant demon of Lord Sidi."

"No, what I mean is, since you aren’t sealed, how have you gone so long without absorbing Fallen Self?"

Upon hearing this, Mitra and her sisters kneeling beside her, trembling, showed an indescribable expression, which caught Fisher’s attention, prompting him to raise his hand and ask again,

"Won’t tell?"

"We’ll speak! We’ll speak!"

Mitra saw him raise his hand again, afraid he would use the previous method to absorb their souls, she raised her hand immediately to plead, hesitantly explaining to Fisher,

"Actually... we did leave before, but were later driven back and forbidden to go out anymore..."

"Driven back? Who forced you back, and why?"

Mitra cautiously glanced at Fisher, seeing him appear human, she couldn’t help saying,

"You know, Lord, that we demons, whether the Demon Gods, servant demons, or Little Demons, live off Fallen Self. But Fallen Self is not food to us; it’s more like some uncontrollable... [nature].

"We don’t die from not absorbing Fallen Self for a long time, but it brings us unimaginable pain—beyond what any other race could endure. It’s like living with the pain of suffocation without breathing, or longing to drink without quenching thirst... and the stronger and older one’s imagination is, the more apparent this becomes.

"As servant demons of the Love and Desire Gate, we are naturally passionate about lust and drawn to it, needing to gain ’food’ from it; other methods don’t suffice. I, along with my sisters here, have been servant demons for a millennium, which makes us relatively aged, thus our internal nature becomes increasingly difficult to suppress...

"Therefore, unlike those young servant demons who can endure, we inadvertently went overboard in human cities, causing the Lord to drive us back and prevent us from going out again. Until today, it’s already been a full three years..."

She cautiously glanced at Fisher, recalling something and spoke with some resentment,

"Those Demon Gods, relying on their tremendous power, can indulge themselves to the fullest to satisfy their nature. But we, the weak ones, must obey their orders, unable even to gratify our nature freely, fearing exposure to humans, ruining the plans of the Demon Gods...

"Ha... staying in this dark, desolate place for three years, we suffer the torment of our nature day and night... some brothers and sisters have gone mad and died because of this. We... we just want men, even a little... just give us a little will do..."

As she spoke, perhaps thoughts raced through her mind, her complexion flushed again, as if since Fisher arrived, the sparse Death Lord has been thoroughly drained, becoming less appealing, especially when compared to this handsome, strong Lord before her.

Mitra’s right hand, kneeling on the ground, unconsciously caressed downward, her look of unfulfilled desire or hunger showed the torment her nature put her through, and her recent demands from the Death Lord were just a temporary fix, wholly unsatisfying...

The Death Lord is a half-dead zombie, his obsession with death has suppressed almost all other desires, and though he once had a beloved, they have long since passed. He didn’t seem like someone who could forget their love. Naturally, he couldn’t provide sufficient Fallen Self.

It’s this Mythical Rank Lord instead; ah, to savor his Fallen Self would be worth dying for...

But as Mitra thought this, a green Seal suddenly appeared in her uncooperative gaze, etched onto the chest of the man before her.

The intense presence of the Demon God, that striking crown symbol...

That is...

"Lord Paimon! You’re Lord Paimon’s Blessed?!"

Mitra’s face turned pale, even more terrified than seeing Fisher moments ago, as if mentioning that name could obliterate her soul in sheer horror.

In the shocked gaze of Fisher’s group, they suddenly noticed the Enchanting Demon before them lose control, almost losing her human form, the flame on her tail growing weaker...

"Lord Paimon... we didn’t mean it... please stop testing and torturing us..."

"During our time in Nali, we really couldn’t help it... so we did... we didn’t mean to ruin your plans... forgive us..."

Fisher furrowed his brows, watching Mitra’s head suddenly bang on the ground, bowing towards him, seemingly pleading with him, or the existence she mentioned.

But his thoughts were entirely caught by the information in Mitra’s words, quickly asking,

"Paimon... wait, what did you say, where did Paimon send you previously?"