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This Demon King is Not So Bad
Chapter 30 How about voluntarily giving some blood, free of charge?

Chapter 30 How about voluntarily giving some blood, free of charge?

Buster spread his legs and ran towards the squirming figure on the ground, looking like a real dog.

Perhaps it was due to the various stray dogs they had encountered along the way, but when Buster reached the shadow, he instinctively did a pretty good impression of sniffing with his nose, then turned to Murphy and let out a series of barks.

Murphy and Byron were galloping towards the scene on horseback, and Murphy couldn't help but feel Buster had quite a knack for his canine role. Dismounting his horse, Murphy found a little girl, no older than ten, lying on the ground. Her small form had been obscured by an adult-sized coat, misleading him from afar to perceive her as a squirming unidentified creature.

"She's badly hurt, but not dead yet." Murphy turned the girl over to find several alarming wounds. Had he not checked for a pulse at her neck, he might have declared her gone.

As a five-level entity, Buster had the combat prowess of an untrained adult man. Murphy instructed Byron and Buster to stay alert while he considered how to save the child. Being a Demon Lord, Murphy's healing spells were specialized for demons and useless on humans. Converting a young girl who was still alive into an undead or skeleton wasn't exactly Murphy's style either. Pondering the options, he thought of Life Drain, a unique ability he possessed.

[Life Drain: A high-level necromancy spell that draws life force from nearby living beings and absorbs it.]

This skill was peculiar because Murphy had found that it could be considered a dual mid-level skill fusion: one part Life Force Strip from another being, and one part Self Absorption of Life Force.

In this world, a creature's vitality is effectively its HP—the health bar. But, detailed distinctions arise as different races possess different types of life forces.

Murphy, the Demon Lord, could absorb almost any kind of life force, which made the skill incredibly useful when he was on his last legs. But other beings didn't share this luxury. Suppose Murphy drawn life force from Byron and given it to the girl, she'd be a goner even if she were a hero reincarnate.

Murphy only needed to extract enough human life force and transfer it to the girl for her swift recovery from the brink of death. But the challenge was finding a human willing to make a blood donation in this desolate wilderness.

"Your Majesty, something's afoot," Byron’s steady voice alerted. Murphy had told them to be informal and use names outside but, caught off guard, Byron reverted to formality.

Footsteps approached rapidly, and a group of twenty or so men wielding clubs, large swords, and hammers emerged from the dense forest.

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"Boss, we've found 'em!" yelled a voice that sounded like a duck had gotten hold of a megaphone.

"Show some damn respect, you've found the runaway brat, not your damn boss!" retorted a bald brute, his thick arms wielding a giant axe, emerging from behind the loudmouth.

"Right, Boss. We've found the brat, and also stumbled upon an adventurer, a bard... and a dog," quacked the duck voice, smug as if the trio and their pet were already done for.

The bald behemoth shimmered like a beacon under the sun. He pushed through his men, looking past Byron, and addressed Murphy directly, "Boy, sing me your best tune. I'll make sure my axe cuts quick and saves you some pain."

Murphy, holding the girl, looked up at the towering figure and said, "Ever heard of donating blood, Lightbulb?"

That must’ve struck a nerve. Lightbulb—no, Baldy—raised his axe to give Murphy a close shave, but to everyone’s shock, the metal corroded at breakneck speed, crumbling into dust as brittle as a cookie.

"You whelp, you a magician or something? What spell is that?" Baldy, visibly shaken but not panicking, demanded to know.

Murphy chuckled softly, "I'm in a bit of a rush at the moment, let's have a proper chat soon, shall we?"

No sooner had Murphy spoke than Lightbulb felt a sudden weakness in his legs and flopped to the ground, paralyzed and uttering panicked whimpers, unable to tear his eyes away from Murphy.

The bandits stood in an odd limbo, unsure whether to advance or flee. Their leader had collapsed mysteriously, but his fate was unclear—if they deserted him only to find out later he'd survived, they'd be signing their own death warrants.

So they looked to their apparent second-in-command, the Duck Voice, who seemed to be considering his options.

"Boys, let's take out the mage first! Then we save the boss!" The Duck cried out though his retreat betrayed his brave words.

Like starved dogs heeding a command, the bandits charged at Murphy.

The girl in Murphy's arms was on her last breath, and he was running out of patience—didn’t these guys know when to quit? He had planned to first check if they were good-hearted, borrowing some life force if they were, or taking a bit more liberally if not. But it turned out these bandits were more eager than he imagined, racing over to offer their life force for free.

To expedite the process, Murphy decided to let these enthusiastic young men donate together, directly into the little girl's body, bypassing any middleman's markup completely.

Murphy lifted the girl by the nape of her neck as if she were his magic wand and aimed her at the nineteen human bandits, unleashing the necromantic spell—Life Drain.

The effect was sensational, and Murphy marveled at the efficiency of using a human as a casting tool. The child's eyes snapped open, blank but emitting a light that put Lightbulb’s bald sheen to shame.

"Run for it, lads! Cultists!" The Duck's mind flashed images of cult sacrifices he'd heard of before turning to the mountainsides, and he let out a mighty bellow before making a quick pivot to flee—only to stumble after a mere step…

The nineteen men's life force surged relentlessly into every wound on the girl's body. Where there was once blood now showed noticeable healing, as the excess vitality enveloped and then merged into the small girl.

Within less than a minute, she was as good as new and breathing evenly in sleep, while the bandits lay, barely alive and with a single breath left in them, their hot-bloodedness cooled on the ground.