Zhu Rong Sighs at Reincarnation, Dragon Clan Renounces Delusional Love!

Kunpeng looked down at the Golden Immortal Army kneeling before him, his heart a tangled mess of emotions. He merely gave a slight nod, then bowed to Dijun and Taiyi. "Your servant thanks both Your Majesties for their heavenly grace."

As his words fell, a shadow flickered through his eyes, and he stepped forward. "Your Majesties, there are still many clans in the Primordial Wilderness unwilling to submit. Your servant proposes dividing our forces to campaign against them."

"This will both display the Demon Race's might and clear obstacles for future dominion over the Four Seas!" When he reached this point, a sharp gleam flashed in Kunpeng's eyes. In his view, since he himself had submitted, he would not let those recalcitrant clans have it easy either.

Dijun, who had long harbored ambitions of expansion, was overjoyed at these words. "Excellent! Let it be as the Demon Master says! Taiyi, you shall lead five million troops and a hundred Zenith Heaven Golden Immortals to first subdue those clans daring to oppose our Demon Race."

Taiyi respectfully acknowledged the order, an excited light shining in his eyes. He had long wanted an opportunity to test the power of the Eastern Emperor Bell, and this campaign assignment suited his wishes perfectly. Thus, after accepting the task, he led the five million-strong army and a host of Zenith Heaven Golden Immortals, transforming into a blazing streak of light that departed in a grand and imposing manner.

Above the North Sea, scouts from other clans watched this scene and sighed inwardly. A Quasi-Saint who had severed one corpse had ultimately been subdued by the Demon Race. The scales of the Primordial Wilderness seemed to be tilting toward the demons.

Meanwhile, the top-tier powerhouses across the Primordial Wilderness were all paying close attention to the movements at the North Sea. Atop Kunlun Mountain, Laozi stroked his beard and said calmly, "Though the Demon Race's military strength is vast, Taiyi relies on his Innate Supreme Treasure and grows arrogant—it will be hard for him to last long."

Yuanshi snorted coldly. "Kunpeng may be a Quasi-Saint, but he has no backbone. For the Demon Race to take in such a figure is hardly an achievement."

Tongtian watched the distant streak of light, a fighting spirit flashing in his eyes. He wanted to see just how strong Taiyi's Eastern Emperor Bell truly was. But he also knew this was not the time to clash with the Demon Race. So after rubbing the Green Apple Sword, he continued his meditation on the Quasi-Saint Path.

Back above the North Sea, Dijun gazed in the direction Taiyi had departed, ambition burning in his eyes. "Once we pacify those unsubmissive clans, the next step will be to try and win over some of the Sea Tribes, clearing the way for future conquest of the Four Seas!"

Kunpeng stood silently at his side, only tightening his grip on the Innate Spiritual Treasure in his hand. His Quasi-Saint path would have to continue under the Demon Race's wing—perhaps this was his fate. Thinking this, he let out a silent sigh and followed Dijun and the others back to the Sun Star.

The streak of light carrying Taiyi and the Demon army had just swept across the surface of the East Sea. Deep beneath the waves, within the Dragon Clan Ancestral Land, a faint fluctuation of spiritual veins stirred.

This ancestral land was hidden in the deepest part of the Four Seas Abyss, surrounded by pitch-black Dark Water, sustained only by the dim light of a remnant Innate Spiritual Vein. The rock walls still bore cracks left from the Dragon-Phoenix Calamity, exuding decay and silence everywhere.

Beside the Crystal Coffin at the center of the ancestral land, Zhu Rong slowly opened his eyes. Pale golden dragon qi swirled around him, and the scales on his body still carried traces of the chaotic aura from the dawn of creation. His vertical pupils showed no trace of emotion, as if they could pierce through endless ages.

With a flick of his fingers, a Water Mirror materialized out of thin air. The mirror clearly replayed the scenes of Dijun and Taiyi rising from the Sun Star—how they gathered the weak clans around them, used the River Diagram and Luo Book and the Chaos Bell Prototype to intimidate the Primordial Wilderness, and then, using the bait of jointly ruling the Demon Race, recruited Kunpeng, step by step forging the Demon Race into a top-tier power of the Primordial Wilderness.

When the Water Mirror dissipated, Zhu Rong finally spoke, his voice carrying the vicissitudes of eons. "The Witch Clan, the Demon Clan... another cycle... They are walking the same old path our three clans once trod."

"Ancestor, what do you mean by that?" Ao Guang, the Dragon King of the East Sea, who had been reporting at his side, suddenly looked up, shock filling his eyes. He had just finished reporting how the Demon Race had subdued Kunpeng and was pressing the East Sea—how could the conversation suddenly veer into cycles?

Zhu Rong's tone finally showed a trace of emotion, laced with undeniable melancholy. "Can you not see? The Witch and Demon Clans of today are so alike to the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin Clans of yesteryear."

"At the dawn of the Primordial Wilderness, the Fierce Beast Clan dominated heaven and earth, only to end in extinction, their Dao annihilated." "After the Fierce Beasts fell, our three clans rose, each ruling a domain, but ambition and the Devil Race's instigation led us to mutual ruin, ending up guarding forbidden lands." "Now we have retreated, and the Witch and Demon Clans have seized the opportunity to rise—one dominating the Central Continent with their physical bodies, the other ruling the starry sky with the authority of the stars. If this is not a cycle, what is?"

He paused, a cold light flashing in his vertical pupils. "But who can guarantee that the Witch and Demon Clans will become eternal overlords?" "When our three clans were at their peak, did we ever imagine we would end up in today's silence?" "Perhaps one day in the future, a new clan will rise and replace the Witch and Demon Clans."

Ao Guang's heart trembled at these words, his face turning pale. He subconsciously clenched his sleeves. His reaction did not escape Zhu Rong's notice. Zhu Rong gave him a faint glance and spoke with an authority that brooked no dissent.

"Are there still some in the clan who secretly fantasize about using the Demon Race's power to restore the Dragon Clan's former glory?"

Ao Guang's body stiffened, and he finally nodded with a bitter smile, his voice tinged with helplessness.

"Yes... some members of the clan, seeing the Demon Race's current strength, have proposed befriending them."

"They suggest offering some of our treasured artifacts as gifts, in exchange for the Demon Race's help in escaping the Four Seas Abyss and reclaiming the glory of ruling the four seas."

"Preposterous!" Zhu Rong suddenly raised his hand and slammed it onto the Crystal Coffin, causing ripples in the surrounding Dark Water.

"Was the tragedy of the Three Clans War not enough to leave a lasting impression? Or have they forgotten the instructions Ancestral Dragon left back then?"

His voice rose sharply, carrying a suppressed anger.

"After the Dragon-Phoenix Calamity, Ancestral Dragon made a vow with his broken body, ordering our clan to guard the Four Seas Abyss."

"First, to repay the Primordial Wilderness Karmic Debt incurred during the war; second, to recuperate and bide our time until the spiritual veins recover and the Karmic Debt dissipates, then plan for the future. But now, some actually want to borrow the Demon Race's power?"

"Any borrowed power is unreliable!" Zhu Rong's tone was as heavy as a mountain.

"If the Demon Race truly wanted to help us, it would either be to use our clan as cannon fodder to absorb the Witch Clan's physical onslaught."

"Or they covet the treasures our clan has accumulated over endless Yuanhuis."

"Those Chaos Spiritual Materials from the early days of creation, those Innate Spiritual Treasures—which of them aren't objects of their greed?"

"What they value has never been the Dragon Clan itself, only our usefulness!"

Ao Guang lowered his head, sweat beading on his forehead, his heart long devoid of any thought of rebuttal.

He knew that everything Zhu Rong said was the truth; it was just that some in the clan had been blinded by the delusion of restoring their glory.

"Anyone who proposes such an absurd idea is either foolish or stupid."

Zhu Rong's anger gradually subsided, his tone returning to calm, yet carrying an unyielding command: "Convey my words exactly as I've said them. Let them sober up properly."

"If anyone dares to mention borrowing the Demon Race's power again, they will be expelled from the Dragon Clan Ancestral Land according to Ancestral Dragon's instructions, never to return."

"Yes, Ancestor." Ao Guang bowed respectfully and slowly withdrew from the Ancestral Land.

The moment he stepped out of the cave, he heard a long sigh from behind.

That sigh was filled with helplessness toward the cycle of reincarnation and worry for the clan's future.

The Dark Water flowed slowly, and Zhu Rong beside the Crystal Coffin closed his eyes once more, the Dragon Clan Ancestral Land sinking back into silence.

Only the cracks on the rock walls silently told of the glory of the past and the forbearance of the present.