Without the two brothers there to hold the fort, with the dragons leaderless, could the Demon Race still hold on?
A massive stone silently weighed down on Dijun's heart. Compared to the joy of rebirth, what he could not let go of was the fate of his entire race.
"Taiyi, resurrection is certainly a joyous occasion beyond measure, but the most urgent matter now is to immediately find out the true state of the Demon Race in today's Great Desolation."
He turned to his younger brother, his voice low yet resolute. "The realm you and I built—after all these years without anyone at the helm, how much of its former grandeur remains?"
At those words, the exhilaration of just awakening gradually faded from Taiyi's face, and his thoughts settled as well. He carefully recalled the various tribes once under their command, the hidden agents within the Heavenly Court, and the several old ministers entrusted with great responsibilities. His expression grew increasingly composed.
"Big Brother need not worry so greatly. Even if you and I fell back then, the Demon Race remains that great race which once overshadowed an age. Several contingencies lie buried deep within the Heavenly Court, and several venerable elders remain behind to guard it. Even if it cannot compare to its ancient zenith, it surely cannot have withered into ruin and fallen to the point of being bullied by all."
His tone was certain, brimming with confidence—in Taiyi's eyes, the Demon Race ought to stand at the summit of the Great Desolation. Even if its pillars were temporarily absent, its foundations could never be so easily shaken.
Yet Dijun was not as optimistic as his younger brother.
Taiyi devoted himself to the cultivation of the Great Dao and rarely concerned himself with mundane affairs. It had always