Golden Crow Spews Heavy Water, Am I Hallucinating!

In the Demon Saint's grand hall of the Demon Court, Demon Saint Ji Meng rubbed his temples.

"Hiss... a headache. The Dragon Race besieged the Phoenix Race and withdrew without fighting—His Majesty is demanding accountability."

"I still have to go find trouble with the Dragon Race, but the Dragon Race is now under Yellow Dragon's control."

"And he's a Saint's personal disciple; it seems several Saints' personal disciples have gone to the Dragon Race."

"Troublesome. If I don't cause them trouble, His Majesty will cause me trouble. Maybe I should just swallow my pride?"

Earlier, it had looked like the Dragon Race was besieging the Phoenix Race, on the verge of annexing them.

And they'd been throwing around divine abilities and techniques with great enthusiasm.

Who knew that at the critical moment, the Dragon Race would turn and leave, as if they'd made some firm resolution.

At the same time, a jade slip arrived: Kong Xuan, son of the Primordial Phoenix, had been accepted as a personal disciple by the Yuanshi Saint—unprovokable, time to cut and run.

Right after that, Yellow Dragon took over the Dragon Race, acting as interim clan leader.

At this moment, Demon Saint Ji Meng felt the pressure was immense.

Among the many Demon Kings, a figure suddenly stepped forward.

His footsteps were heavy, exuding the bloodline of the Dragon Race. He stood eight feet tall, with a magnificent appearance and a somewhat ethereal aura.

Ji Meng raised his head, glanced at this person, frowned, and asked.

"Grandson, do you have some good plan?"

The Demon King who stepped forward was the direct son of the West Sea Dragon King, Ao Moang.

After the Dragon Race submitted to the Demon Court, Ji Meng saw that the other had some talent and kept him by his side to nurture.

Ji Meng was an existence from the same era as the First Dragon.

The Dragon Kings of the Four Seas were like his nephews, so calling Ao Moang 'grandson' was perfectly natural.

Ao Moang exuded the aura of a Mystic Immortal and cupped his hands.

"Reporting to Demon Saint, when handling affairs in the Demon Court, one should address me by my title."

Ji Meng instantly appeared before Ao Moang and slapped the back of his head.

He shouted with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

"Plant, I think you're a cactus. If you have something to say, say it; if you have something to let out, let it out."

"Can't you see your grandfather is about to be held accountable by His Majesty? And you're here cracking wise—you're a real piece of work."

Ao Moang stopped putting on airs and quickly said.

"Grandfather, you could simply let me go to the Dragon Race. With this bloodline bond, there'll be face to save."

Ji Meng frowned and pondered for a moment. It did seem like a viable plan.

He could just let Ao Moang go through the motions at the Dragon Race.

That would satisfy His Majesty's demand for accountability for now.

Actually making a move against a Saint's personal disciple—only a fool would do something that brainless.

Having cultivated for so many years to reach the current Quasi-Sage realm wasn't easy; he couldn't let a hot head cost him his head.

"Good, good, good. This plan of yours isn't bad. Go ahead, and I'll wait for your good news. Remember, you must not lose the dignity of my Demon Court."

This admonition was also to let Ao Moang know that he should put on airs in front of the Dragon Race when necessary.

The main point was to let Dijun see that he hadn't been slacking off, and that the task truly couldn't be accomplished.

Ao Moang's eyes flashed with sharp light as he replied confidently.

"Grandfather, rest assured. Your grandson will surely display the majesty of our Demon Court!"

With that, he turned and left, leaving Ji Meng frowning deeply, muttering inwardly.

"I have a bad feeling. I think this grandson didn't understand what I meant."

Ao Moang traveled all the way to the Dragon Palace. The water tribes along the way naturally didn't dare provoke him.

They all recognized this Crown Prince of the West Sea Dragon King.

The most talented existence among the third generation of the Dragon Race.

The moment Ao Moang stepped into the Dragon Palace, he happened to see Xuandu, Guangchengzi, Duobao, and Kong Xuan, who had just emerged from seclusion, chatting amiably with Ao Guang.

Ao Guang glanced sideways and saw it was Moang returning. He smiled continuously.

"So it's my nephew back. Quickly, take a seat. Your uncle will introduce you to these distinguished disciples of the Saints."

Who would have thought Ao Moang would snort coldly, his demonic aura radiating outward.

"Please address me as Demon King Moang, East Sea Dragon King!"

In an instant, the atmosphere in the Dragon Palace turned rigid.

Ao Guang sucked in a cold breath, looking Ao Moang up and down.

"You little brat... asking for a beating, are you?"

Ao Moang remained cold and stern, his gaze fixed on Xuandu and the others.

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"You disrupt our Demon Court's plans, prevent us from subjugating the Phoenix Race, and even harbor Kong Xuan of the Phoenix Race—what crime do you deserve?!"

Xuandu still wore a smile, glancing sideways at Ao Guang as he inquired.

"Could this be Fellow Daoist Ao Guang's intention?"

Guangchengzi chimed in with a cheerful echo.

"Has he always been this bold? Doesn't he know our cultivation levels?"

Duobao cast a cold look at Ao Moang, his tone indifferent.

"This Daoist's great sword has long been parched with thirst."

Kong Xuan's words were more direct.

"Idiot."

All the personal disciples of the saints turned to look at Ao Guang.

Ao Guang merely waved his hand dismissively and replied.

"Please, fellow daoists, spare my nephew's life. I'll have something to tell his father then. As long as he's still breathing, it's fine."

With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and looked away from Ao Moang.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Four Golden Immortal auras surged skyward from the Dragon Palace hall.

Pressure like mountains descended upon Ao Moang.

He crashed to the ground with a thud, his cheek pressed flat, utterly unable to resist.

Ao Moang's eyes flew wide as he gasped.

"You can't do this to me—I am a Demon King of the Demon Court."

Xuandu had also picked up Li Yuan's style, speaking softly.

"Sorry, but we're all personal disciples of the saints. Let the Demon Court take it up with the saints."

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

The four of them immediately laid into Ao Moang with a round of kicks.

Screams echoed through the Dragon Palace, yet no one stepped forward to help.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Just then, Li Yuan emerged from seclusion, stunned speechless by the scene before him.

"I walk in and the first thing I see is Chang Wei beating Laifu."

"Brothers, all busy?"

The scene was bizarre no matter how you looked at it.

A motley crew of Three Teachings disciples.

Duobao quickly explained.

"This brat's called Ao Moang, son of the West Sea Dragon King. Arrogant as can be—thinks being a Demon King means he doesn't even have to acknowledge his own uncle."

"He even tried to lay hands on us. A mere Mystic Immortal—who gave you the nerve?!"

As he spoke, he landed another kick.

Li Yuan stared at the screaming Ao Moang and suddenly felt a pang of familiarity.

Sure enough, no pillar's path to growth is without its share of beatings—or maybe poisonings.

He stepped forward, patted Ao Moang's swollen cheek, and said with a smile.

"Oi, do you know who we are? Coming in here demanding accountability—whose idea was this?"

Ao Moang, unable to bear the beating any longer, quickly replied.

"It was Grandfather Ji Meng. He said we needed to show the Demon Court's might."

Li Yuan's eyes narrowed slightly as he said softly.

"Looks like we haven't knocked the Demon Court around enough yet. They dare touch the saints' personal disciples."

"We don't seem to have any deep blood feud with the Demon Court, do we?"

"Since they came to us, we have to teach them a lesson."

"I've just made some progress in my cultivation—let me land a couple of kicks."

With that, his blood and qi surged, condensing the phantom of a Three-legged Golden Crow behind him.

His whole body radiated an aura belonging to Dijun.

But the Three-legged Golden Crow's beak swallowed Heavenly River Heavy Water.

Even Ao Moang, mid-beating, was momentarily dazed.

"It's over—I've been beaten stupid. A Golden Crow swallowing Heavy Water—I'm hallucinating!"

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