Night hung heavy, like black silk soaked in ink wrapping itself around the world. Only a single moon hung in the sky, its cold light washing the barren mountains and wild ridges in a thin, deathly white. The wind gave off a low, grieving sound. Everywhere else was dead quiet.
Deep in the night, a dark mass of people rushed along the rugged mountain road under the moonlight. The man at the front stood straight even in his ruin, and that man was none other than Godric, the former Lord of the Basilica who had once shaken an entire region.
More than 200 surviving disciples followed behind him. Every one of them wore tattered clothes. Their faces were drawn. Blood vessels webbed their eyes, and their steps had already gone light and loose, but not one of them dared stop. Ever since they started running for their lives, they had picked only the most dangerous paths, the kind no one ever used, hiding by day and moving by night.
During the day, they hid in dark caves or deep inside the forest. They didn’t dare light a fire and filled their stomachs with nothing but dry rations and cold fruit. At the slightest stir, the whole group tightened like startled birds.
Godric walked at the very front, and every step looked as if it carried the weight of lead. His face stayed dark and still. The muscles along his body remained drawn tight. The deep, sharp gaze he used to carry was gone now. What remained showed only wear, disgrace, and the last edge of a man being driven into the wall.
The destruction of the Sacred Mountain kept circling in his head like a nightmare that would not let go. Jared’s cold face kept surfacing before him, along with the sight of the Sacred Mountain collapsing and the Venerables turning to ash. Hatred and dread pressed in so hard they nearly swallowed him whole.
“Hall Master…” Elder Shaw dropped his voice and swept a wary look around them. “Another 100 miles, and we hit the border of the Luminous Sanctuary. Once we cross it, we’re in the Demon Marches. That’s forbidden ground for the righteous path. The pursuers probably won’t dare follow us in.”
Godric gave a slow nod and looked toward the place where the horizon met the sky. Out there, the brilliant golden holy radiance cut off without warning. Beyond it lay a gray, ruined stretch of land and rolling crimson demon mist, crouched there like some sleeping beast and leaking a savage presence.
That was the Demon Marches, where the demon race held its ground. Demonic aura flooded the land, fell beasts roamed everywhere, and even cultivators of the righteous path went pale at the mention of it.
A bitter smile pulled at Godric’s mouth. He had once stood in the True Immortal Realm, held power over a whole region, and lived with people looking up at him from below. Now he was running like a stray dog, forced to throw away what little dignity he had left and flee into the Demon Marches, the one place everyone despised, just to beg for shelter.
But the Celestial Palace was gone. Its disciples were dead or broken in huge numbers, and Jared’s pressure hung over his head like a blade. Other than throwing himself at the mercy of the enemy demon race, there was no road left.
“Move…” The word came out of Godric’s teeth. He quickened his pace and rushed toward that patch of demon mist that made the skin crawl.
The disciples shrank back at it, but they still forced themselves onward. If they wanted to live, all they could do was follow close behind him.
The night grew deeper. After 2 hours of hard running, every one of them was bent over breathing hard, their clothes soaked through and then turned cold against their skin. At last, the first strand of dark red demon mist brushed across their faces. They had crossed the border and stepped onto the land of the Demon Marches.
The instant they went in, the sharp stink of sulfur mixed with thick demonic aura and slammed into their noses. Coughing broke out one after another. The weaker ones turned pale and hurriedly worked their spiritual power, barely managing to keep it down.
Ahead of them stretched a wasteland plain, the dark red earth split open with cracks and not a single blade of grass in sight. Far off, black mountain peaks ran on without end. At their summits, living volcanoes burned year-round. Firelight and demonic aura twisted together overhead, staining the sky a heavy dark red and giving the whole world the bleak look of the end of days.
Godric forced down the unease climbing through him and motioned for everyone to steady themselves and keep moving. The Demon Marches were danger from one end to the other. It wasn’t just the savage fell beasts. There were fiends too, the kind that could worm their way into a person’s spirit and twist it.
Back when he stood in the True Immortal Realm, he could have cut a path through this place without slowing down. Now his spirit had been damaged, his strength had fallen to half a step from the True Immortal Realm, and all he really had left was the foundation of the High Immortal Realm. Even so, with his disciples behind him, he could only keep forcing himself forward. He took the lead, opened the way himself, and cut down the scattered low-rank fell beasts that lunged out along the road.
They kept that up for a full three days and three nights. No one dared stop. They chewed dry rations, drank river water laced with faint demonic aura, and spent the nights in hidden caves with watches posted in turns. Along the way, several weaker disciples were clawed by fiends. The demonic aura got into their bodies fast, and before long they turned wild. Godric had no choice. He ended them with his own hand.
After that, he could only gather what was left of his people and keep leading them toward the territory controlled by the Demon Dragon Lineage.
At dusk on the third day, a towering black palace finally came into view. It stood on the highest peak among the mountains, built entirely from jet-black demonic jade. Countless Demon Dragon reliefs crawled across the roof, all claws and fangs, their eyes glowing red, their bodies wrapped in rolling demonic aura. The whole thing pressed down on the land with a brutal, monstrous weight.
This was the Demon Dragon Hall, the residence of Demon Dragon Chieftain Darian.
Godric came to a stop and looked up at the Demon Dragon Hall. Too many things crowded into that one look. A few months ago, he had led his elites in the siege of Cloudhaven City. He had been in full command then, with all the power and pride of a man who never once put the demon race in his eyes. Now his home was gone, his people shattered, and he had to lower himself and beg an old defeated rival to take him in.
The weight of that drop and that disgrace sat hard in his chest, but there was nothing to do except swallow it.
“Let’s go…” Godric pressed everything down, forced a humble look onto his face, and started toward the mountain foot.
Behind him, the disciples kept their heads lowered and moved stiffly, not daring to breathe too loudly. They had just reached the mountain foot and had not even set foot on the stone steps when a sharp shout exploded out.
“Stop! Who are you?! How dare you trespass on the forbidden grounds of the Demon Dragon Hall!” Before the shout had even finished, dozens of silhouettes shot out like ghosts and boxed them in from every side.
They were Demon Dragon warriors, dressed in black armor carved with dragon patterns and holding long spears etched with demonic markings. Their eyes were cold. The killing intent on them was naked.
At the front stood a young commander, his cultivation already at the Top Level High Immortal Realm. His sharp gaze swept over Godric and the rest. The moment he caught the traces of Celestial Palace robes on them, his brows pulled tight.
“You people are from the Celestial Palace? What are you here for?”
Godric hurried forward and cupped his hands with a deep bow, lowering himself as far as he could. “I am Godric, Lord of the Basilica of the Celestial Palace. I came to request an audience with Chieftain Darian. Please report it for me. I have an important matter to discuss.”
Hearing that, the young commander’s face changed on the spot. Shock flashed through his eyes, then hardened into guarded hostility. He took one step back and barked, “Alert! Full alert! Enemy attack! People from the Celestial Palace must be here for revenge!”
In an instant, warning bells began to ring. Countless Demon Dragon warriors poured in like a tide, surrounding them three layers deep inside and out. Spearpoints snapped up toward the demonic aura surged into the air, and the whole mountain foot tightened to the breaking point.
Godric’s face drained at once. He waved both hands again and again as his words came out in a rush. “A misunderstanding! General, don’t misunderstand! I’m not here for revenge. I came to join Chieftain Darian. I mean no harm!”
The young commander let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Join us? You, the dignified Lord of the Celestial Palace, a True Immortal Realm expert, would come join the Demon Dragon clan? Back then, your people showed no mercy when you hunted ours down. And now you say you’ve come to defect? Who would believe that?!”
Sweat broke out all over Godric’s forehead. He opened his mouth to explain, but the words would not line up. The ground under his feet seemed to keep dropping.
Right at that razor-edge moment, a terrifying pressure swept out from deep inside the hall. It carried a thick Demon Dragon aura with it, so heavy that all the warriors lowered their heads and did not dare breathe.
Godric’s chest sank. He knew Darian had arrived.
Several figures dropped down at high speed. At the front was Darian. He wore a dark gold robe marked with dragon patterns. His face was hard, his eyes cold, and behind him stood several Elders in the True Immortal Realm.
Darian looked Godric over. Seeing him in ragged clothes, with none of his old authority left, surprise flickered through Darian’s eyes before a cold, mocking curve touched his mouth. “So it’s Lord Godric. You’ve got some nerve, coming into my Demon Dragon Hall. What, did you not lose enough at Cloudhaven City, so you came here to get revenge?”
As soon as he finished speaking, Darian slashed a hand through the air and gave the order in a hard voice. “Form up! Prepare to engage! Anyone who trespasses gets killed on the spot!”
Roar! The Demon Dragon warriors roared as one. Killing intent surged into the air, and they were already on the verge of striking.
