As she turned around, amidst the shattered jade beads, the ink-black pupils of the Demon Lord brewed a pool of bloody hue.
Among the crowd of demons, a young witch holding a jade gourd of wine revealed a look of surprise, while subconsciously clutching the shaking little coffin tightly in her wallet.
With the vast sky breezing, outside the kneeling throng of demons, a young man carrying a sword, holding an umbrella, walked alone.
He professed to be from the six rivers of the Demon World, donning the attire of the Demon Clan, his body swirling with blood feathers dancing in the air. With every step he took, the red Demonic Qi flowed with his garments, naturally tuning into the aura of heaven and earth.
At this moment, however, his aura starkly contrasted with those kneeling Demon Clansmen. Walking among the numerous Demon Generals, he stood out distinctly, embodying an out-of-place presence amidst everything around.
