The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Not long after, a notification popped into his view, signaling the completion of the quest and the accompanying reward. Satisfied, he returned to the group.

Although he was a life professional player, his level wasn't handed out for free; it had been painstakingly earned through countless battles.

Not to mention that several versions ago, Yiye Zhiqu had already summarized the nuances and weaknesses of this game's common skills. Even if he wasn't exactly a combat aficionado, through years of listening to the elite players debate, he had picked up a thing or two inadvertently.

"Impressive, brother," [Emotionally Stable] exclaimed in amazement at the suave return of [Chips in the Office], unable to hold back his admiration. "I didn't expect you to have such a killer move."

"Hehe," [Chips in the Office] laughed sheepishly, his tone dripping with unnecessary flair. "Keep it low-key, it's basic stuff."

Outside the fence gate lay sheer silence, an endless stillness as oppressive as the clouds pressing down from the sky, with only the faint sound of snow falling within the forest to break it.

Everyone present silently stared at Brook's lifeless form lying in the snow, their terror deeply etched into their eyes.

So powerful!

Unbelievably terrifying!

Their most powerful, brave, and battle-hardened warrior couldn't even stand against the weakest skeleton soldier under the Demon King's command...

Not even for one round!

To their eyes, that clash couldn't even be called a battle; it was nothing short of pure annihilation!

As they looked at the emotionless Demon King and the utterly defeated Brook, Village Chief Pierre's face turned ashen, his lips drained entirely of blood.

Especially considering how, just moments ago, he had entertained the thought of making a desperate last stand...

Now, he only felt fortunate that he hadn't acted on it.

Seeing the refugees completely stripped of their will to fight, Luo Yan spoke again with deliberate calmness.

"As you have witnessed, you are to me like mere ants. To take your lives from you wouldn't even require me to utter a single spell. I'm genuinely curious as to why you believe I'd need to resort to schemes or illusions to deceive you..."

"Or, to put it another way, are you even worth such effort?"

Under the piercing gaze of those unsettling violet eyes, Pierre could no longer endure the mounting fear within. He collapsed to his knees in the snow with a heavy thud.

Pressing his forehead against the icy snow, his voice trembled uncontrollably as he spoke.

"Please forgive our disrespect... We truly have no other way out."

He was not alone.

Behind him, the refugees followed suit, dropping their weapons and prostrating themselves on the ground, trembling as they begged for the Demon King's mercy.

Watching the slow rise of his faith value, Luo Yan gazed down at what he now considered his future subjects, an imperceptible smile curling at the corners of his lips.

Fear, after all, was also a kind of faith.

At least now, these desperate souls no longer hoped for Saint Sis's salvation, but instead begged for his forgiveness and absolution.

This was the first step toward "selling one's soul to the Demon."

Next, he would make them realize that "selling one's soul to the Demon" wasn't as despairing as they had imagined—the Demon King's magnanimity exceeded all their expectations.

Saint Sis's representatives in the Mortal World had cast them out into the biting snowstorm, while the Demon King's acolytes treated them like kin.

Luo Yan turned his attention to the two children standing by the fence wall. With a smile, he nodded at them, signaling them to find their parents. He then watched as they ran into their father's embrace.

Dave, rising from the snow, held his two children close, sobbing uncontrollably in gratitude for the miracle bestowed by the Demon King.

Having his children, lost in the storm, returned safely to his side—undoubtedly a miracle!

And so, Luo Yan gained his first believer among the group of refugees.

Prostrate in the snow, the refugees sneaked glances at Dave, who was now embracing his children, their expressions showing faint surprise.

They hadn't expected that the two children were, in fact, alive—not some form of deceptive demon illusion.

Unbelievable!

The Demon King truly hadn't harmed them?!

Everything before their eyes utterly upended these refugees' understanding of the world, shaking the faith built upon that foundation to its core.

"I can offer you shelter, as long as you are willing to become my servants."

"I will provide you food and warmth, help you through these most difficult times, but you must toil at sunrise and pray to me at sunset."

"Step through this door, and our covenant is forged. Those who are unwilling, I will not force; you may leave my lands freely and go wherever you wish."

The commanding voice reverberated through the snowy forest.

Andy, nestled in his father's arms, lightly tugged at Dave's clothing, whispering softly in his ear.

Without a shred of hesitation, Dave rose from the snow, carrying his two children, and walked toward the open gate with an expression of devout sincerity.

Perhaps seeing that Saint Sis had not delivered divine wrath, the others prostrate in the snow began to rise one by one. Following the example, they made their way toward the gate.

Including Village Chief Pierre.

Soon, the snow-covered ground was left with only one person.

Lying in the snow, Brook closed his eyes, awaiting death's arrival in resignation.

But once again, events unfolded contrary to his expectations. The commanding and ominous Demon King didn't crush him like an insect. Instead, he tossed a bottle of magic potion onto the snow beside him.

The deep green liquid radiated an incredible aura of vitality, drawing a stunned expression onto Brook's face.

Then, the authoritative voice descended upon him.

"You have two choices: drink it and swear allegiance to me, becoming my servant. Or, ignore it and follow the one who has never answered your prayers."

The answer required no deliberation.

All his fellow refugees had chosen to join; Brook had no reason to feign nobility, especially as he wasn't particularly devout in his faith.

Moreover, he was already utterly convinced of this Demon King's power.

To serve such a lord was, if anything, an honor for him.

As he laboriously drank the potion, Luo Yan spoke again, his tone gentle yet undeniably commanding.

"I will temporarily entrust your soul to you."

"Should I ever sense betrayal, I will reclaim it."

Leaving those words behind, Luo Yan turned away and vanished into the flurries of snow like dissipating smoke.

The task requiring the Demon King's personal attention had been completed; his life professional players would naturally take care of settling the newly admitted NPCs.

As for the matter of proselytizing, Luo Yan wouldn't need to concern himself with it—he'd leave it to the acolytes of the Guardian Clan.

Perhaps it wouldn't be long before the Great Graveyard welcomed a new batch of human acolytes.

This kind of missionary work was, after all, humanity's specialty...