Ming Yue’s eyes narrowed sharply as his body continued to retreat, simultaneously weaving defenses before him...
Moments later, the red light vanished. The world fell silent as Ming Yue stood battered in the void, his face pale as paper, blood seeping from his ears, nose, and mouth...
The destructive force of the Red Demon Saint’s self-detonation was less than he’d anticipated—at the very least, it hadn’t obliterated the entire continent—but it had compounded his injuries. The powerful life force from the Inextinguishable Tree’s leaves circulated throughout his body, rapidly mending his internal wounds, but this clearly wasn’t something that could be accomplished in a short while. Back when he was injured by Xue Li, it had taken two leaves and nearly a full year to recover completely.
“Hahahaha!” Xue Li’s booming laughter rapidly drew closer from the distance, clearly indicating he was approaching at full speed. “Huo Bu, for the first time, I find you quite pleasing to the eye!”
By a fortuitous twist of fate, preserving that wisp of Huo Bu’s split soul had yielded an unexpected result. While the other Demon Saints were powerful—most even stronger than Huo Bu—if anyone other than Huo Bu had come this time, they might not have been able to keep Ming Yue contained. After all, that fellow had been just a single step away from the realm gate. Only Huo Bu’s self-detonation technique could have halted Ming Yue’s breakthrough!
Specks of red light condensed in the void, and in the blink of an eye, they reformed that short, stout figure. The Demon Saint’s self-detonation hadn’t cost him his life—this was likely a innate ability derived from the Red Demon Clan.
However, Huo Bu’s current state was visibly compromised. His originally crimson body had noticeably dulled, and his aura felt unstable, clearly indicating the self-detonation had exacted a significant toll. Such a technique absolutely could not be used consecutively in a short period—unless one truly didn’t care about dying.
He glanced toward the direction Xue Li was approaching, his mouth twitching as he muttered a few words—though indistinct, they sounded like curses.
Ming Yue’s expression remained calm as still water. He let out a soft sigh, but there was no regret over his plan falling short. In his calculation, breaking out and escaping would have been ideal, but the Demon Realm possessed twelve Demon Saints. If he had truly managed to break through, they wouldn’t deserve their titles. The current situation was something he had long foreseen, so there was no need for lament.
The path ahead was bristling with thorns—only a bloody charge could clear a way!
...
Yang Kai was burning with anxiety, pushing himself relentlessly forward. Within half a month, he finally reached the realm gate leading to the Zhoutian Continent. However, from a distance, he could see the area before the gate teeming with Demon Race figures—it was impossible to tell how many had gathered.
Such numbers created chaos. Demon armies, led by Half-Saints, were surging toward the gate in a frenzy, as if something valuable awaited them on the other side. Even more Demon Race stood waiting in lines further back.
At this rate, even waiting for over ten days might not be his turn!
Seeing this, Yang Kai turned and shouted to his rear, “Keep up!”
He spurred Zhui Feng with his legs, charging violently toward the gate. Since waiting in line was futile, he wouldn’t bother waiting!
Plowing straight through, relying on Zhui Feng’s power, Yang Kai forcibly carved a path through the dense Demon army. Behind him, two million soldiers followed closely.
This approach naturally drew the attention of many Demons, who turned to glare with fury. However, the entire Demon Realm operated on the principle that might makes right. While Yang Kai’s side lacked a Half-Saint, the aura radiating from Zhui Feng was no weaker than one, so ordinary demons dared not cause trouble.
When they were ten li from the gate, a figure suddenly drifted sideways to block Yang Kai’s path. The figure raised a hand and commanded in a deep voice, “Halt, whoever approaches!”
“Get out of my way! Anyone who blocks me dies!” Yang Kai had no time for pleasantries. The battle for the Zhoutian Continent had already begun, Ming Yue’s fate was unknown, and he was desperate to scout the situation firsthand. Right now, he wouldn’t hesitate even if a Demon Saint blocked his path, let alone a Half-Saint.
In other words, he actually welcomed someone obstructing him—it would serve as a perfect example to deter others! His Avatar had advanced to Half-Saint, and Zhui Feng had once hunted a Half-Saint. He was now armed to the teeth.
This particular Half-Saint was of unknown race, his complexion sallow yellow. The Demon army currently passing through the gate belonged to his own continent—and precisely because of this, he stepped in to stop Yang Kai. Otherwise, who would bother meddling in another’s affairs?
At first, seeing Yang Kai riding a magical beast with a formidable aura, he’d assumed the man had a significant background and tried to dissuade him with reasonable words. But when Yang Kai utterly rejected his face, fury ignited within him.
Yang Kai’s personal aura wasn’t particularly strong—even if he had some background, it was limited. As a Half-Saint, why should he fear others?
Enraged, he raised his hand and struck toward Yang Kai. Demonic energy surged forth like a torrent, the air crackling with explosive sounds as he roared, “I see you’re courting death!”
The might of a Half-Saint was no joke. Yang Kai immediately felt the space around him constrict, a deathly aura pressing down from above. Just as he hesitated whether to release his Avatar, Zhui Feng let out a shrill neigh. Golden flames ignited around its hooves, searing golden prints into the void as it vanished in a flash, reappearing before the Half-Saint. It then reared up, its front hooves slamming downward.
The strike seemed unremarkable, but the Half-Saint’s expression transformed dramatically. His raised palm shot upward to meet it, demonic energy churning wildly within his body.
The instant palms and hooves met, a terrifying force erupted. The Half-Saint managed to hold for less than a breath before his entire body shot backward like an arrow loosed from a bow, hurtling toward the earth below and vanishing from sight in moments.