“A Saint Son of the Demonic Path? Shit. Why is he here?!”
“I thought the Imperial Family would stop Demonic Cultivators from entering the ruins?!”
“Hah… who’s gonna stop them? The Heaven Sword Sect? The Zhao Clan? The Royal Family? Even they have to think twice.”
“Not to mention they are all competing with each other and wouldn’t spend their time trying to stop someone and waste their energy.”
…
As Mo Tianji stepped off the ark, dark mist coiled around him like a cloak of malice.
Behind him came the rest of the Crimson Demon Sect’s delegation—beautiful and deadly women in revealing black armor, monstrous cultivators in twisted forms, and elders whose presence alone caused the nearby younger generation to drop to their knees, gasping for breath.
“Those are the Seven Blood Envoys…”
“And her—wait, that’s Dugu Lianxin! The Saintess of the Hundred Sins Hall!”
A woman in white stepped down from the ark next, her gown soaked in bloodstains that never dried.
Her face was veiled, but her eyes shone with a chilling, soul-consuming light.
Rumor had it she once made a Nascent Soul expert kneel and confess all his sins before she flayed him alive.
Someone gulped.
“So, the Demonic Cultivators have sent both the Saint and the Saintess?”
“Isn’t that… overkill?”
“Overkill?”
Someone else laughed bitterly.
“If they get the inheritance, they’ll probably rule the Empire. The more talent they send, the more chance of getting it. Although there’s an equally high risk that both of them might die—which I hope they do!”
Boom—crack!
A massive black halberd stabbed into the ground, splitting the earth.
A bulky man with grayish skin and eyes like coals followed behind, dragging a giant beast skull on a chain.
“Third Demon General—Gou Yao!”
The crowd murmured, eyes narrowing.
They even sent one of the top five strongest Demonic Cultivators to protect the Saint and Saintess.
The surrounding crowd instinctively backed away as the Demonic Sect disciples spread out like a tide of rot.
Even the Imperial heirs went silent for a moment.
Yu Longxuan stopped grinning. Yu Qingya narrowed her eyes. Even Yu Wenzhao’s cold face tensed ever so slightly.
While the other cultivators would give face—and even when competing, refrain from taking lives as they are from the Royal Family—those Demonic Cultivators were different.
No matter who it is, they don’t hesitate to take lives.
And they’re perhaps even more likely to do so if you’re from a prestigious Sect or Clan, because the two sides are irreconcilable and constantly at odds.
Killing one genius from the other side means one less competitor to worry about.
Gou Yao’s heavy boots crushed the ground beneath him with every step, his halberd still embedded in the dirt like a death marker.
The massive man stopped a short distance from the Bai Clan, dragging the beast skull behind him with a lazy clank.
His coal-like eyes locked onto Bai Tianheng.
“Still pretending to be righteous, little brat?”
Gou Yao’s voice was rough, like gravel grinding against steel.
From Gou Yao’s perspective, even someone like Bai Tianheng was just a child in terms of age.
Bai Tianheng’s expression didn’t change. Calm. Regal. Cold as the wind atop a snowy peak.
“And you? Still not dead? I thought by now Hell must’ve sent their invitation to you!”
Bai Tianheng mocked.
“Haha… It won’t be for another thousand years that I die. Of course, you can try to take this life if you can.”
Gou Yao proudly declared.
There was no way Bai Tianheng was a match for Gou Yao.
Bai Tianheng would have to call upon at least two of Grand Elder Bai Ren’s stature if he wanted to take Gou Yao’s life.
Of course, he wasn’t planning to do that. No one else was planning to either.
“What do you want, Gou Yao?”
Bai Tianheng asked.
“Join us? Your Bai Clan is much more suited to be a Demonic Cultivators!”
Gou Yao said.
Bai Tianheng frowned.
“What makes you think that our Clan is ‘Worthy’ to be a Demonic Clan?”
Bai Tianheng said.
“Haha… Don’t pretend! You know what your clan is capable of!”
Saying so, he glanced at Bai Zihan, who stood behind Bai Tianheng—though Bai Tianheng quickly covered him.
Bai Tianheng frowned, knowing just what Gou Yao was talking about. There was no way he didn’t after Gou Yao’s obvious hint.
But Bai Tianheng didn’t understand how Gou Yao knew that his wife had stolen a Dao Bone and given it to Bai Zihan.
“Haha… Think about it!”
Gou Yao left after saying those words.
A low chuckle came from behind them.
Mo Tianji turned his head lazily, his dark mist swirling like serpents around him.
From the edge of the crowd, a group of rogue cultivators in tattered robes stood with arms crossed, sneering.
One of them, clearly drunk or just suicidally bold, spat on the ground.
“Tch! Overrated bastards!” he snorted.
“Act like gods just ’cause they dress in red and stink of blood. Should just kill themselves and save us the trouble.”
Mo Tianji blinked once. Slowly.
Then smiled.
In the next instant—shlick—
The rogue cultivator’s head was no longer on his shoulders.
Blood sprayed like a fountain across the ground. His body twitched and collapsed.
Mo Tianji stood exactly where he had been, still smiling, his finger casually wiping a single crimson droplet from his cheek.
“Strange,” he said cheerfully. “I could’ve sworn someone just insulted me. But now… he’s dead. So it’s fine.”
He turned to the stunned crowd, eyes gleaming.
“I thought he was someone powerful enough to dare insult me. But looks like he was just a dog barking nonsense.”
No one moved.
No one stopped him.
Not the Bai Clan. Not the Heaven Sword Sect. Not the Royal Family!
Rather many of the younger generation was terrified by Mo Tianji who clearly surpassed them in strength.
Judging by his speed, it seems like Mo Tianji was in the Soul Formation Realm. Indeed worthy of his title as Saint of Demonic Sect.
Mo Tianji laughed coldly.
“No one is going to stand up for him?”
Mo Tianji asked as he pointed to the dead body.
But obviously, no one wants to ask for justice for a dead guy, especially when the opponent is the Saint of Demonic Cultivator.
Losing means death, while winning earns you nothing but a bit of fame.
“You all preach righteousness, don’t you? Claim the moral high ground. But when someone dies right in front of you, you still don’t do anything? F**king Hypocrites!”
Mo Tianji mocked.
That was when one voice finally rang out—sharp, indignant, furious.
“That’s enough!”
It was Yu Longxuan, Second Prince of the Desolate Heaven Empire.
He stepped forward, eyes burning with fury and face pale with rage.
“You dare commit murder in front of the Imperial Family and continue uttering nonsense?! Do you think we will let you run rampant?!”
Yu Longxuan said.
Rather than saying that out of righteousness, it was more like trying to gain a reputation—to be portrayed as a courageous prince who wouldn’t let evil do as they please.
It might have worked flawlessly—if the person he said it to wasn’t as crazy as Mo Tianji.
Mo Tianji’s grin widened.
“Oh, you’re adorable!”
In a blink, he vanished—
And reappeared right in front of Yu Longxuan, hand raised, palm glowing black.
The Prince’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.
The attack was already halfway down.
“Longxuan!!”
Several elders from the Crimson Thunder Palace flashed into motion.
Boom!
A golden shield materialized just in time, clashing against Mo Tianji’s strike with a thunderous shockwave that sent dust flying.
Yu Longxuan stumbled back, pale and wide-eyed.
Mo Tianji stood unmoving, hand smoking slightly, still smiling.
“Whoops! Almost killed another one.”
Mo Tianji said, as if killing the Second Prince was the same as the rogue cultivator that he just killed.
The Crimson Thunder Palace Elders gathered protectively around the prince, expressions dark.
Yu Longxuan, still reeling, growled through clenched teeth.
He was horrified about almost being killed but then regained his composure and realized just how humiliating Mo Tianji had made him seem—especially in front of his brother and sister.
“You’ll regret this!”
The Second Prince said boldly and acted as if he were going to make a move, but the Crimson Thunder Palace’s elders quickly stopped him.
“Second Prince, this isn’t the time for that. You must preserve your energy for the Ancient Ruins!”
The Crimson Thunder Palace’s elder stopped the Second Prince before he made any more foolish moves.
The Second Prince had no real intention of making a move—he already knew Mo Tianji’s strength was far beyond his own. He was just putting on a show, trying to save face after being humiliated.
Mo Tianji rolled his eyes and was about to make a move—but a massive hand landed on his shoulder.
Gou Yao!
The Third Demon General’s voice rumbled like thunder.
“Enough!”
Mo Tianji paused. No matter how crazy and arrogant he was, he knew exactly where he stood.
Although a Saint, his power was inconsequential before Gou Yao’s. Arguing with him would only make things bad for him.
“Don’t forget why we came,” Gou Yao said quietly. “Focus on the inheritance. Not this nonsense.”
Mo Tianji stared at him for a moment, then scoffed and pulled his hand away.
“Tch! Buzzkill.”
But he backed down.
For now.
With the Demonic Cultivators gathered, the air grew even heavier. Disciples from every sect stayed far away from them.
The Imperial Family tightened their defenses. Elders exchanged worried glances.
The tension had been high before.
Now, with the Crimson Demon Sect’s arrival and Mo Tianji’s casual violence?
It was almost suffocating.
The Ruins had yet to open, and already—blood had been spilled.
And with demons walking freely among them…
Everyone knew this trial would be nothing short of a slaughter.