Or perhaps it was both. To him, Ye Xiwen possessed both of those identities.
What especially moved him was the thought of an old friend who had stood atop the summit, invincible in every direction, only to end up dead and his Dao extinguished. Though Ye Xiwen was not his true successor, he had indeed inherited that man's legacy. Thus, in his eyes, Ye Xiwen was like one of his own juniors.
Back then, because of Ling Fei, the clan had wanted to hunt Ye Xiwen down. It had been he who secretly smoothed the matter over. Otherwise, how could the Fallen Angel Race have simply let it go?
Given the pride of the Fallen Angel Race, let alone an obscure human, they rarely thought highly even of the Devil Race's other royal clans. Since entering the Demon Realm, cases of Fallen Angels marrying out had been few enough to count on one's fingers—almost as rare as phoenix feathers and qilin horns.
And Ling Fei was no ordinary Fallen Angel. She was their little princess. Thus, the matter had caused a complete uproar throughout the Fallen Angel Race.
Yet he had not stated his position. He had quietly settled the matter because he knew that Ye Xiwen had inherited the Devil Lord's legacy.
Later, Ye Xiwen became increasingly famous. Like one of their own juniors growing ever more renowned, he gradually left the entire Fallen Angel Race with less and less to say.
When all was said and done, the true reason the Fallen Angel Race had opposed him was merely the pride in their hearts.
Ye Xiwen smiled faintly and said, "Even if they join forces now, what can they do to me?"
His words carried an overwhelming confidence. He might not yet be able to sweep across the