Inside and outside the royal palace, a massive crowd had already gathered. People from various tribes—such as mountain-shaping birds, nightshaves, thunder apes, shepherd ghosts, ghost foxes, ghost mothers, pot-bellied fiends, and asuras—stepped out of their respective settlements to look toward the approaching black giant hound, which loomed as large as a mountain.
They chattered and murmured among themselves. The huoduo breed sat somewhere between the devil race and the ghost race, making them extremely superior in both camps, yet equally minuscule in number.
Even the chieftains of the various tribes had likely never laid eyes on a huoduo; only a tiny fraction of ghost gods had ever seen one, and even then, only in fleeting glimpses, never with such a close-range opportunity.
The overwhelming oppressive aura brought by this black giant hound left them struggling to breathe, and the thick, divine-devil monstrous might within its bloodline filled every ghost with dread.
The clusters of demonic fire like clouds swirling all around it only served to make their hearts leap into their throats.
Many ghost tribe chieftains present had awakened the power of their ninefold bloodlines, possessing peerless strength and certainly far greater prowess than Black Pot. Yet, when facing Black Pot, they felt only a sense of uncontainable, irresistible might.
This was the suppression of a superior bloodline over them.
Although Black Pot was not yet fully grown and its bloodline only partially awakened, it was already enough to make these entities far stronger than itself bow in submission.
What shocked the major ghost tribes even more was the youth standing atop the huoduo's head.
Bright like a tree before the courtyard, spring winds bring flourishing vitality.
He was only around thirteen years of age, yet his heroic bearing was upright and tall. He seemed brimming with scholarly wisdom, his