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Join the ServerYuange, with her formidable entourage, boarded the Wave-Breaking Skiff, all under the complex and wary gazes of the Qingyun Sect disciples.
The savage demonic beast she rode plunged into the water, transforming into a colossal shadow that closely trailed the vessel.
Yuange sauntered past Gu Chang’an.
As their shoulders brushed, she abruptly halted, turning her head and lowering her voice.
A hint of playful provocation laced her smile as she remarked, “Don’t be so petty, Immortal Gu, the great sword immortal. After all, once we rescue her, it’s not certain whose side she’ll ultimately be on.”
Without waiting for Gu Chang’an to react, Yuange hummed a little tune and strolled towards the aft deck.
Gu Chang’an stood motionless, yet the aura within three feet of her seemed to freeze the very air.
Liu Qingfeng, standing behind her, dared not even breathe.
Gu Chang’an gritted two words through her teeth.
“Set sail.”
“Yes!” Liu Qingfeng, as if granted a great pardon, immediately spun around.
He bellowed with all his might, “By the order of Senior Sister — Set sail!”
“Buzz—”
A profound, resonant hum echoed as countless runes on the Wave-Breaking Skiff’s hull instantly ignited, radiating brilliant azure light.
From the eyes of the white tiger statue at the prow, two golden beams shot forth, piercing through the dense sea fog ahead.
The colossal vessel slowly turned, then jolted violently, transforming into a streak of azure light.
It cleaved through the surging waves, racing towards the boundless depths of the East Sea.
****
The deck remained starkly divided into two distinct worlds.
At the fore, led by Gu Chang’an, the Qingyun Sect disciples stood with their sword qi sharp and their presence as heavy as iron.
At the aft, centered around Yuange, the demon warriors gathered in small groups.
Some polished their weapons, while others chatted in low voices, exuding an air of leisurely abandon.
Gu Chang’an and Yuange, one at the front and one at the back, confronted each other across dozens of yards.
****
The Infinite Demonic Domain was a land of eternal night, where even light itself was twisted and devoured.
Ordinary beings who stepped foot here would find their Divine Souls corroded by the omnipresent Demonic Energy within three breaths, transforming them into mindless husks driven only by slaughter.
And the Myriad Flower Blood Palace was the absolute heart of this eternal night.
Unlike the dirty, chaotic demon lairs imagined by the world, this palace was breathtakingly beautiful, yet terrifyingly so.
Colossal white bones had been sculpted by ingenious demonic artisans into the palace’s pillars.
Clinging to them was a demonic plant known as the “Blood Prison Rose.”
These roses drew malevolent qi from the earth, blooming into nearly black flowers that shimmered with an eerie metallic luster.
Their fragrance was potent, yet it stirred the deepest killing intent within one’s heart.
Within the palace, there were no lamps or torches.
The sole source of illumination came from the “Blood River” that flowed through the patterns on the palace floor.
It was not true blood, but rather killing intent purified to its extreme and liquefied, emanating an eerie dark red glow that bathed the entire grand hall, making it resemble a gigantic, pulsating heart.
At this moment, in the deepest chamber of this heart, a figure sat quietly upon a white bone throne.
Her frost-white hair cascaded like moonlight, spilling over the grotesque bone-carved backrest.
Her equally snow-white battle robe shone blindingly bright, and isolatingly pure, in this dark red world.
She rested one hand beneath her chin, while the other idly stroked the Abyssal Slaughter Sword, a world-destroying demonic weapon, that lay across her lap.
The sword’s blade was pitch black, seemingly capable of absorbing all light. Only a blood-red line, as fine as a strand of hair, stretched from the hilt to the tip.
With each pass of her fingertip, the bloodline brightened slightly, emitting a sword cry that sounded like both an infant’s wail and a vengeful spirit’s howl.
Ling Shuangjue’s expression at this moment was serene.
Terrifyingly serene.
Below the throne stretched a vast, blood-red plaza capable of holding a hundred thousand people.
It was filled with the Myriad Flower Blood Palace’s most elite demonic guards.
They wore uniform black heavy armor, upon which eerie “blood roses” were branded with demonic blood. They were Ling Shuangjue’s direct subordinates.
They stood perfectly still, without a single superfluous movement. Yet, the palpable killing intent emanating from them caused ripples in the surrounding space.
This was no mere army; it was a drawn butcher’s blade, waiting only for its master’s command to sever all things in the world.
“Your Reverence.”
A hoarse voice broke the deadly silence.
A burly, one-eyed demonic general with a hideous saber scar on his face appeared silently below the throne, kneeling on one knee. He was Mo Mo, Ling Shuangjue’s first demonic general.
Ling Shuangjue’s gaze remained fixed on the void of darkness ahead, unmoving.
“Are they all here?”
Her voice was as light as a snowflake.
“Reporting to Your Reverence, the Blood Slaughter, Bone Shadow, and Soul Scourge divisions, totaling thirty-six thousand demonic guards, have all assembled and are ready to depart at any moment.”
Mo Mo bowed his head, answering respectfully.
They were emptying their lair.
This was the largest mobilization of the Myriad Flower Blood Palace since the last war between immortals and demons.
Mo Mo’s heart churned violently, yet he dared not show the slightest hint of it.
He had no idea what could have happened to provoke such thunderous wrath from their Reverence, who typically remained in secluded cultivation and viewed all worldly affairs as tiresome games.
“Penglai.”
Ling Shuangjue finally spoke, uttering two words.
Her voice was still soft, but it made Mo Mo feel as though his demonic soul had frozen.
“A self-important alchemy cauldron.”
A faint curve graced Ling Shuangjue’s lips. “They enjoy treating living beings as medicinal ingredients, don’t they?”
Mo Mo dared not reply, burying his head even lower.
Ling Shuangjue slowly lifted her eyes, and her blood-red pupils finally gained a sliver of focus.
She seemed to gaze through endless space, seeing the misty immortal island in the East Sea.
“This Venerable One has also recently acquired a medicinal ingredient.”
“Haha.”
Ling Shuangjue let out a low laugh.
The laugh was soft, yet it caused the temperature of the entire Myriad Flower Blood Palace to plummet instantly.
Even the surging malevolence in the Blood River paused, as if an invisible hand had seized its throat.
Below the throne, Mo Mo felt a chill shoot straight up his spine to the crown of his head, his eyes widening in astonishment.
Their Reverence had laughed.
The last time she had laughed like this, an ignorant demonic sect, along with their mountain gate and three mortal cities under their dominion, had been completely erased from the map overnight, leaving not even a speck of dust.
“This Venerable One dislikes others touching my possessions.”
Ling Shuangjue rose.
With her movement, her snow-white battle robe stirred without wind, and countless crimson demonic energies surged into the sky behind her.
They intertwined, ultimately forming a colossal and eerie tableau.
She chose not to slowly drift across the East Sea by boat, like those fools from the Qingyun Sect.
She took a single step, her figure instantly appearing above the plaza.
“Activate the array!”
The two cold words were like a divine decree.
“As Your Reverence commands!” Mo Mo hissed his acceptance.
The next moment, countless runes on the ground of the entire blood-red plaza, far deeper and more ancient than the Blood River, instantly illuminated.
“Buzz—”
A roar beyond description resounded throughout the Infinite Demonic Domain.
With the entire Myriad Flower Blood Palace as its core, an ancient cross-domain teleportation array, sealed for a thousand years, was violently activated.
On the plaza, the ground beneath the thirty-six thousand demonic guards instantly transformed into a swirling, bottomless black vortex.
Violent spatial turbulence raged around them, capable of instantly tearing Soul Transformation Realm cultivators to shreds.
Yet, not a single demonic guard moved; they didn’t even blink.
Instead, they gazed up at the white figure in the air with even greater fervor and worship.
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