Origin Ridge.
Withered Grass Slope Plains.
Patrol squads generally consisted of seven lesser demons.
Their cultivation was low, roughly equivalent to the fifth or sixth layer of Qi Refining.
As such, most barely resembled humans.
The only resemblance the rat demon bore to a human was that both now walked on two legs.
A weasel demon led the squad.
It had a pointed muzzle and a face covered in yellow fur. Narrowing its eyes, it could not help complaining:
"Patrolling these wide-open plains... patrol my ass. No one would launch a surprise attack from here anyway. If a bunch of lesser demons like us really ran into some Golden Core powerhouse launching an attack, we'd be gone before we could make a sound. What's there to patrol?"
Their captain's remark quickly gave the squad something to talk about, and they began offering their opinions.
A little lizard in the squad, short and carrying an old broad-bladed saber, said hoarsely:
"If they didn't send us to our deaths, how would they show off their authority as demon kings?"
The rat demon sighed at that. "Before there was a Demon Kingdom, our lives weren't ours to control. Now that there is one, our lives still aren't ours to control. Didn't I come all this way for nothing? Back home, I at least had a lady rat I was going to marry..."
A stocky little wild ox demon with horns on its head spoke up, sounding rather simple and earnest:
"You can't put it that way. If the Demon Kingdom really takes root, we'll never have to hide here and there or run whenever we see a human again."
As those words fell, four of the seven demons laughed.
The lizard, the smallest of them, laughed loudly and patted the wild boar demon