The scene before their eyes.
Had they not witnessed it themselves.
Even in their dreams.
The villagers would never have dared imagine it.
They had suffered at the hands of the demons of the Demon Hound Grotto for so long.
Naturally, they yearned for someone to cut out these malignant tumors.
But the Demon Hound General's savage might was far too overwhelming!
For nearly a hundred years.
Countless hot-blooded cultivators.
Righteous souls who wished to slay demons and monsters for the human race.
Had come to exterminate them.
Only to die gruesomely beneath the demons' claws.
Perishing with bitter hatred in their hearts!
And so.
Even in their dreams.
The villagers had never dared imagine.
That one day.
Someone would batter the Demon Hound General to the ground like a dead dog.
Who could have imagined.
That something they dared not even dream of.
Would, today.
Be accomplished by a boy of no great age.
With such effortless ease.
"Dear, pinch my backside!"
"Ow! That hurts, that really hurts! It's not a dream, it's real! After all these years, Chong'er and Azhuang have finally been avenged!"
A white-haired old farmer with a deeply wrinkled face turned to the dark-skinned old woman beside him and asked her to pinch his backside hard. The pain made him bare his teeth, yet tears of joy spilled from his cloudy old eyes.
Over the past thirty years.
His eldest son and youngest grandson had been devoured one after the other by demons from the Demon Hound Grotto.
His heart had brimmed with hatred.
Yet he had been powerless to avenge them.
Mired deep in suffering.
Every day he lived.
Had been sheer torment.
He had thought he could only die like this.
Watching the Demon Hound Grotto flourish unabated.
Never had he expected.
That