In a corner of the rain-shrouded street, two dark figures acted furtively.
"That kid... he can really boast!"
"Go back and report this news to the Demon God."
"But Marquess, he’s just talking big. Do you really believe him?"
"Execute the order."
"...Yes!"
Similar scenes played out frequently within the rain.
One dark figure after another streaked through the downpour, racing toward the Inner City.
The little book spirit, suspended high in the sky, naturally saw everything.
In the courtyard, the young man’s lips inadvertently curled upward, a glint of cunning flashing through his eyes as he quietly took another deep look at the little girl.
The news traveled back to the Demon God Palace at incredible speed and spread rapidly through the circles of the heavenly demon race.
Even the Demon Dao Hall, which usually stayed out of the Demon Gods' disputes, learned of the matter.
"What?"
"Truly?"
"Are you certain that is what he said?"
"You heard it with your own ears?"
Their reactions were largely the same.
The first response was skepticism.
However, the answers they received were surprisingly consistent: it was absolutely true, spoken by Bai Mang himself.
Furthermore, the scene at the time was reconstructed in detail, which added an extra layer of credibility to the claim.
Upon receiving the news, the Demon Gods all fell into deep thought.
With furrowed brows, they did not entirely believe it.
After all, the matter was far too absurd—more absurd than believing Bai Mang could condense nether fire.
There were many types of ancient demon script. The heavenly demon race had spent their entire lives and countless efforts over tens of thousands of years, with over a thousand generations, yet they had never been able to decipher them. And now, some third-class demon appearing out of nowhere supposedly could?
Preposterous!
There were two possibilities. First, the white-haired youth was lying. He had learned of his precarious situation from Chi Ji.
Knowing he was doomed, he had resorted to this desperate measure to confuse everyone and buy time to save his life.
Second, he truly could. He wasn't a third-class demon, but an ancient demon who had been sealed somewhere and suddenly awakened today.
Or perhaps he was a reincarnated soul.
Or even possessed by an ancestral demon.
Their subconscious naturally leaned toward the first possibility.
Yet, they did not dare to be a hundred percent certain that the second scenario was impossible.
Their hesitation grew particularly strong after careful analysis.
Bai Mang's origin was mysterious to begin with, and he possessed several special methods—not even mentioning what happened in Ze Capital.
The news about the formation half a month ago, and the fact that he had killed a seventh stage expert with a single spear strike while only being at the early sixth stage, had long since spread.
Each of these events added to the mystery of his background.
It was precisely because of these stacked events that they had intended to kill him.
Because they never denied his talent, they were truly afraid that he would master the Nether Fire Secret Art.
They didn't want to gamble.
Just like now, they didn't exclude the suspicion that he was lying, but they were also truly afraid that he actually knew the ancient demon script.
A gifted third-class demon who might master the Nether Fire Secret Art could threaten the rule of the heavenly demon race.
However.
A third-class demon who could translate ancient demon script was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for anyone in the Demon Abyss.
It was even more so for the heavenly demon race.
The heavenly demon race controlled the Demon Dao Pavilion, which was filled with treasures.
Unfortunately, they couldn't read or use them. If Bai Mang truly could translate them, then he was the key to this treasury.
Whoever obtained him could open the treasury and inherit the treasures left by the ancestral demons.
Those were primordial demon arts; any single book could change history.
And in the Demon Dao Pavilion, there were thirty thousand scrolls of remnant techniques.
The potential profit was too vast.
Among these Demon Gods, many had chosen to support opening the Nether Gate and risk following the High Priest.
It wasn't because they thought the High Priest was right, nor was it out of loyalty.
It was because they wanted to use the power of the Nether Beasts to make themselves and their families stronger.
It stemmed from a thirst for power and an obsession with strength.
This was a common trait among all cultivators.
It mattered not if they were humans, beasts, demons, or spirits.
The world was not filled with only one kind of person. Most people did not have such grand ambitions or a sense of justice.
People were selfish; most only wanted to live for themselves.
The pursuit of the Demon Gods was to grow stronger, to become a demon sovereign, or even a demon immortal and ascend.
The world-renowned Ancestors of the Three Sects thought this way, the great beasts of the North Sea thought this way, and the Demon Gods of the Demon Abyss were no exception.
If the Nether Beasts behind the Nether Gate provided a chance to reach a higher level...
Then the primordial demon arts certainly could as well.
Therefore...
They were tempted. At the very least, they had to test the truth.
The Demon Gods deliberated again and again, giving nearly identical answers:
"I want him alive. Bring him to see me!"
"Note, you are to invite him back!"
Sentient beings are fickle creatures, and demons were no different.
In the ten great Demon God Palaces, the divine sons and goddesses set out almost simultaneously. Under the orders of the Demon Gods, they raced toward the outskirts of the Outer City.
One after another, massive carriages pulled by seven-colored demon horses galloped through the drizzling rain under the protection of the Crimson Demon Guards.
The thundering of hooves and the neighing of horses drew the attention of the entire city.
Whether it was the heavenly demon and earthly demon of the Inner City or the mortal demon living in the Outer City, everyone stopped and looked up.
A wave of shock and a tide of discussion broke out instantly.
"Look, are those the carriages of the Demon God Palaces?"
"The Frost Demon's, the Azure Demon's, and the Yellow Demon's... Good grief, nine of them! They've all set out. What's going on?"
"What happened?"
"This is the first time I've ever seen such a scene."
"Mother, look! The Demon Gods' great carriages are coming toward our Outer City!"
A merchant who had just recently entered the Nether Capital asked in dazed astonishment, "Is it always like this when it rains every year?"
He received a definitive answer from a local resident nearby. "No. This is the first time I've seen it too."
In the main hall of the Demon Court, the current Demon Court Master had just stepped out with his men when he saw the nine carriages pulled by seven-colored horses traveling together.
He slapped his thigh in frustration. "Damn it, those old foxes caught the scent too."
"Sir, are we still going?"
The Demon Court Master cursed bluntly, "Go for what? With our pitiful resources, how are we supposed to compete with them?"
"Master, then what about the General Commander? Should we still arrest the man?"
"Arrest my foot! Go tell him to withdraw his men immediately!"
"Understood!"
The Demon Court Master grumbled unwillingly, "Sigh... after all this fuss, I knew there was no way the High Priest would be indifferent. It turns out Her Grace already knew."
There was more than one person like him. Any marquess or noble among the heavenly demon race who had received the news was tempted; some even thought about snatching him directly.
However, the moment they stepped out and saw the Demon God Palaces' carriages streaking across the sky, they abandoned those thoughts.
The seven-colored carriages of the Demon God Palaces were the personal rides of the Demon Gods, goddesses, and divine sons. For them to set out at this time and in such a unified manner...
There was only one explanation: they were snatching someone.
To snatch someone from the Demon Gods...
They had the desire, but not the strength; they had the nerve, but not the life to spare.
Rate on N.U.
