The Demon Lord Insists on Being My Disciple

I was reborn three hundred years in the past, just as I was about to torture and kill the enemy who would one day slaughter my entire family.

But then I saw him as a boy, covered in blood, protecting a nest of wild rabbits in the mud.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, trembling. “I’ll protect you.”

Years later, he knelt before me and begged me to take him as my disciple.

I should have killed him with one stroke, but somehow, I nodded.

Years later, he grew into an Immortal Venerable renowned throughout the land, yet when I was in danger, he plunged into demonic cultivation without hesitation.

Amid a sea of blood, he wiped the blood from my lips. “Master, this time, let me protect you.”