A Word Stills the Formless

Judging from the surface, this was already the typical beginning of a new Demon Calamity.

Human Qianyuan versus the Demon Emperor of the Rift Valley.

Celestial Pivot Formless versus the Nine Sons of the Dragon.

If things continued escalating like this, if either side casually lost even one person, it would be stranger if it did not turn into a great calamity sweeping the world.

It seemed that all Qin Yi's painstaking efforts to control the pace earlier had gone to waste. Whether the Sea Clan demons would be slaughtered was no longer the key; there was no difference in the outcome now.

Qin Yi was angry too. Whether Qiu Niu could defeat that Orange Peel Old Daoist Nun or not, it would do nothing good for the situation. The conflict would ultimately intensify, and everything he had done would turn into empty words.

When he saw the giant palm collide with the thunderous sound, he recalled how, time and again, whenever he had wanted to kiss Minghe, this stinking palm had hauled her away. Rage surged up from nowhere, and he jumped to his feet, cursing, "It's you again, you Stern Orange Peel Old Daoist Nun!"

The giant palm shrank back slightly.

Qin Yi continued shouting, "I've reached Qianyuan! What about Minghe?"

The giant palm clenched into a fist, and its voice became somewhat ethereal. "I... What does your reaching Qianyuan have to do with Minghe? Before all these people, are you still trying to ruin her reputation?"

"It was you, you stiff-faced, single-minded Stinky Daoist Nun, who taught adorable little Minghe into becoming just as single-minded! Kill demons, kill demons—do you kill every demon you see?" Qin Yi stomped his feet. "You fell for someone else's scheme to sow discord and escalate a great calamity, yet you don't