The sermon continued for seven times seven, forty-nine days.
Wondrous sounds echoed through the Eighteen Mountains, like celestial music.
Nine Bend Mountain was a sea of people. Heavenly thunder rumbled as a spring rain scattered across the earth.
The spring rain pattered down, and whoever it fell upon felt refreshed in body and spirit.
A human cultivator's eyes blurred with tears. "Since the sun, moon, and stars vanished, the mortal world has never again heard the voice of the gods!"
A member of the Demon Race prostrated himself on the ground, wishing to honor Qi Yuan as the holiest ancestral master.
Qi Yuan sat upright upon a massive boulder, his voice clear and resounding. "The Human-Fiend Path—this... traps demons!"
With his final words, the cultivation art named Demon Trapping Art descended into the hearts of everyone present.
The demons carpeting the mountains and plains, along with the human cultivators, were entranced as though lost in a dream.
At that moment, an elderly human prostrated himself and knelt. "Thank you, divine one, for bestowing this art and saving our race in its hour of peril!"
The greatest use of the Demon Trapping Art was to help cultivators build a cage and trap the demonic evils within their hearts.
That way, no one would become excited only for a demonic evil to suddenly break free from their body.
This was unquestionably of immense significance to both humans and demons alike.
As the old man prostrated himself on the ground—
The remaining humans and demons, regardless of cultivation or status, all fell to their knees and shouted in unison, "Thank you, divine one, for bestowing this art and saving our races from danger!"
Across the mountains and plains, demons and humans knelt toward Qi Yuan. The sight was truly earth-shaking.
Canary stood frozen,