"…Mo Zhu?"
"Your Highness, our prince."
"If the Flying Serpent prince is willing to return to the Central Continent, then the King…"
The rest of the words were left unspoken, but they all understood the implication. The demon race valued bloodline above all, and the Flying Serpent possessed half-divine blood, existing since the dawn of this continent.
Even if the Flying Serpent royal family had committed mistakes in the past, the majority of demons still revered them. Otherwise, Chou Xiao wouldn’t have struggled for centuries before finally becoming the new Demon King.
Chou Xiao remained expressionless, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed up at Chan Luo on the high peak. "You claim to act on Mo Zhu’s orders. What did he say?"
Chan Luo curved her lips into a faint smile. "He said… to kill you."
A clear, youthful voice echoed from the jade token.
"I am the son of Mo Zhi, young master of the royal family, and the only grandson of the 67th Flying Serpent King—a direct descendant of the royal bloodline. By the authority of my Flying Serpent heritage, I command Chan Luo to deliver this message: Six hundred years ago, the Flying Serpent royal family was framed by General Chou Xiao. The Flying Serpent King fell into a coma, and Chou Xiao forged edicts to lead the army into battle against the demons. After the defeat, he shifted the blame onto the royal family."
"Of the 170 members of the royal family, a hundred perished in the internal strife 580 years ago. The Flying Serpent King died in battle, and the Queen fled to the Nether Sea with my infant father and the surviving clansmen. Yet Chou Xiao pursued them relentlessly, refusing to let the royal family live."
"Twelve years ago, the Demon Lord You Zhou arrived at the Nether Sea. With the aid of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, my parents escaped with me to the Central Continent. A year later, disaster struck the Nether Sea, and my parents perished one after another. After two years on the run, I was captured by Chou Xiao’s men, only to be rescued by Immortal Lord Zhuoyu."
"Every word I speak is true."
"In the name of the Flying Serpent royal family, I order Chan Luo to halt this war and seek justice for our lineage."
The jade token fell silent.
A heavy stillness settled over the crowd below. No one dared speak, their fearful gazes shifting between the two figures atop the peak. Chan Luo stood at the highest point, clad in striking red, impossible to miss.
Chou Xiao merely looked at her, his voice calm. "All this talk, yet you still lack proof. Can mere words decide everything? And how do we know this jade token truly came from Mo Zhu?"
Chan Luo smirked and flicked her wrist, tossing an object into the air.
A scale materialized in the sky. Every scale of a Flying Serpent’s true form could shrink or expand at will, and at its largest, it was as wide as a window.
The black scale was sharp-edged, thick and unyielding, its surface shimmering under the sunlight.
Then, a golden sigil slowly emerged upon it.
"That’s… the Royal Seal!"
"The Royal Seal! Only those of direct royal blood can manifest it! That scale must belong to Prince Mo Zhu—the seal was placed by him!"
The crowd erupted into chaos. The long-lost Flying Serpent Royal Seal had reappeared. For years, demons had searched in secret for the missing prince, yet none succeeded—until recently, when Chou Xiao claimed the prince had been taken to the Yingshan Sect and mistreated in the Central Continent.
But if he had truly been abused, even if the scale had been forcibly taken, the Royal Seal could only be placed by Mo Zhu himself. And the voice from the jade token had been steady and composed, bearing no signs of coercion.
Chou Xiao cast a cold glance at the demon soldiers below. Though he had only recently ascended as Demon King, he had been the race’s supreme general for over a millennium. His authority was absolute, and the murmurs died under his gaze.
Still, he remained unshaken. "Evidence."
Chan Luo scoffed. "Proof of your collusion with You Zhou?"
Chou Xiao waited. Even if Mo Zhu’s command was genuine, it wasn’t enough to condemn You Zhou. The past events remained mere accusations from a single voice.
Chan Luo’s expression darkened. "After all these years sharing your bed, you still hid everything from me. I was blind to your cunning. But Chou Xiao, no deed is without traces."
She turned her gaze to the distance. A figure suddenly soared into the sky from behind.
"Lady Chan Luo!"
A twisted mass was hurled to the ground, writhing under the sun’s glare before dissolving into smoke, leaving only ashes behind.
But for that brief moment, everyone saw what it was.
Zhan Shuo appeared beside Chan Luo in a flash, holding up a carved disk. "I’ve brought something interesting for you all. Nearly got dragged into that pack of shadowfiends earlier."
The disk hovered midair, projecting a vast luminous screen.
"I studied under the Central Continent’s master of mechanisms, Xiang Wuxue. I trust you all know what a memory disk is."
The screen displayed a hidden abyss within the demon realm. Shadowfiends swarmed upward from the black mist, their crimson eyes gleaming, their howls unending. The image shook slightly, and Zhan Shuo’s voice rang out.
"Stop pulling my robes, damn it!"
He yanked one of the shadowfiends up with him before retreating with the disk. His cultivation was formidable, and with Xiang Wuxue’s talismans aiding him, evasion was effortless.
Chou Xiao likely never expected a cultivator from the Central Continent to sneak into the demon realm ahead of time, lying in wait to gather evidence while he mobilized his forces.
As the disk retracted, Zhan Shuo crossed his arms, grinning. "Demon King, care to explain why there are so many shadowfiends in your territory? Don’t play ignorant—tens of thousands are hidden behind your palace in the mountains. You didn’t know?"
More and more demons turned to Chou Xiao.
"Your Majesty, those are shadowfiends!"
"Shadowfiends—creatures of the demonic path! Are you truly allied with the Demon Lord?"
"Then the matter of the late King…"
The unfinished words hung heavy in the air, but the implication was clear.
Veteran soldiers who had lived through those events began piecing together the inconsistencies of the past.
"Now that I think about it… back then, we never actually saw the Flying Serpent royal family present at the war…"
Chou Xiao remained composed. Even as the ranks below descended into turmoil, his expression didn’t flicker. His gaze stayed fixed on Chan Luo.
Zhan Shuo frowned, nudging her. "He’s staring at you."
Chan Luo didn’t respond, her grip tightening around her blade.
Zhan Shuo hesitated. "Well… our mission was just to stop the war. Judging by the soldiers’ reactions, the Flying Serpent royal family’s authority still holds weight. They probably won’t march. We can leave now."
When Chan Luo ignored him, he glanced down. The demon soldiers had split into two factions—one still loyal to Chou Xiao, insisting the past should remain buried, and the other, mostly older veterans who had served under the Flying Serpent royal family. Compared to an ordinary serpent demon, they revered the lineage that had safeguarded the demon realm for millennia.
Zhan Shuo grew impatient. "They might start infighting soon—we should leave first. Hey, Chan Luo!"
Before he could finish, a gust of wind flashed past his ears. By the time Zhan Shuo regained his senses, Chan Luo had already vanished. A crimson figure darted swiftly toward Chou Xiao.
Chan Luo’s voice rang out, sharp and cold: "I told you—your head belongs to me!"
Chou Xiao didn’t evade. In an instant, the two disappeared.
The suddenness of it left the demon soldiers below, still caught in their own squabbles, stunned. Zhan Shuo blinked in bewilderment, exchanging glances with the horde of demons.
A tense silence followed—then Zhan Shuo turned and bolted.
He had forgotten. Chan Luo possessed a personal domain. Once trapped inside, Chou Xiao couldn’t escape unless he killed her.
Those two had their own vendetta to settle, but Zhan Shuo wasn’t inside Chan Luo’s domain!
A lone human cultivator stranded in the demon realm—now that was terrifying!
Yet even after reaching the border of the demon territory, no pursuers emerged.
The jade token at his waist glowed—Ning Hengwu was calling.
Panting, Zhan Shuo answered, "S-Second Elder."
Ning Hengwu’s voice was calm. "Report."
Zhan Shuo replied, "This disciple used the memory disk left by Master to expose Chou Xiao’s collusion with You Zhou to the demon soldiers. As for the truth about the Flying Serpent royal family… I’m not sure if they believed it. But Chan Luo and Chou Xiao entered her domain. It’s likely…"
Likely, only one would emerge alive.
Chan Luo would never release Chou Xiao. The only way for Chou Xiao to escape was to kill her.
Ning Hengwu fell silent. Zhan Shuo stood in the desolate wilderness, waiting for her response.
After a long pause, her voice remained composed. "Return."
"Why?"
"If Chou Xiao doesn’t survive, they won’t mobilize their forces."
With Chou Xiao dead, their only option would be to welcome Mo Zhu back to the demon race to restore order as the new demon king. Thus, they wouldn’t attack the Central Continent.
If Chou Xiao lived, the demon realm’s internal strife would keep them occupied, making an invasion impossible for now.
Zhan Shuo understood. "Understood."
Meanwhile, in the Abyss of Demons, the Central Continent cultivators had been trapped for an entire day.
Here, there was no distinction between day and night—only an endless sea of demons and shadowfiends.
Yan Shanqing sat with his disciples inside a protective formation. Jiang Kuangqiu approached him.
"Most of the shadowfiends have gone after Xiaowu. She must be in trouble."
Yan Shanqing’s lips thinned. "We wait. For her return."
Jiang Kuangqiu nodded. "Mm."
But his peripheral vision caught Yan Shanqing’s clenched fists, veins bulging—far from the composed front he presented. The disciples had unwavering faith in Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, believing she could accomplish anything. They didn’t realize how frantic the elders were.
Wu Zhaoyan hadn’t moved since sitting down. Mei Qiongge paced restlessly, unable to hide her anxiety.
Yan Shanqing sat rigidly upright, his icy gaze fixed on the horde of shadowfiends beyond the formation. Outwardly, he seemed collected—but inside, turmoil churned.
Jiang Kuangqiu sighed softly. "We must trust her. She’ll be fine."
They had to believe. She wouldn’t fall.
Everyone believed she could do the impossible.
Yet a suffocating dread weighed on Yan Shanqing’s chest.
They had already lost Yu Xiaowu once. They couldn’t afford even the slightest risk of losing her again.
A hundred miles away, deep in the shadowed woods—
Sui Ji crashed against a tree trunk, coughing violently as blood spilled from his lips.
Wiping his mouth, he glared at the figure ahead.
You Zhou stood poised, smirking as he reached for the Six-Time Seal at Sui Ji’s waist—the key to his destruction.
Sui Ji staggered to his feet, ready to counter—but You Zhou suddenly froze. His expression darkened before he vanished in a blur.
Gripping the tree for support, Sui Ji spat blood. The shadowfiends surrounding him ignored him entirely, surging instead in the direction You Zhou had fled.
Even in the heart of the demonic horde, not a single shadowfiend attacked him.
Sui Ji understood—they operated under the highest command, following You Zhou without question.
And he guessed why: Yu Zhiling must have found the Land of Eternal Night. Whatever secret You Zhou hid there, he was desperate to stop her.
Gritting his teeth, Sui Ji raised his sword and lunged forward, landing in the path of the oncoming shadowfiends.
He had to buy her time. Alone, she couldn’t fend off both the horde and You Zhou.
Just as he prepared to strike—
A blade’s radiance exploded through the shadowfiends.
A figure descended from above, sword intent annihilating thousands in an instant.
Sui Ji stared. "…Mo Zhu?"
Mo Zhu didn’t respond, his attacks relentless. Not a single shadowfiend crossed the line he drew.
Another youth in golden robes landed nearby, wounded but still managing a bow. "Greetings, Elder Sui Ji."
Now wasn’t the time for formalities. Sui Ji gestured for Shu Feng to rise.
The young man swiftly joined the fray, cutting down mindless shadowfiends despite his injuries.
Sui Ji realized—Mo Zhu had come specifically to aid Yu Zhiling.
If she was determined to see her mission through, he would ensure nothing hindered her.
And he wasn’t alone.
In the distance, flashes of sword light and blade shadows surged—
A tide of Central Continent cultivators poured from the forest, systematically dismantling shadowfiend nests in coordinated assaults.
Yan Shanqing teleported to the front lines. Mo Zhu emerged from the horde, locking eyes with him.
Without a word, Yan Shanqing said, "Go."
Mo Zhu turned and vanished.
Watching him leave, Sui Ji understood his purpose—just as he recognized the cultivators holding back the tide.
