"The Power of Pestilence?"
Above the sea of clouds and lightning, Liu Wanxiong watched the Wolf-Fang Savage Club rot, grow moldy, teem with maggots, and disintegrate in the void. Horror filled his eyes, and shock gripped his heart.
His spiritual weapon was exceptionally hard, immensely valuable, and extremely difficult to destroy.
Yet the instant it touched the six-colored divine wheel, it had abruptly rotted away, disintegrating inch by inch.
At first, he had no idea what that terrifying Dao Power, radiating dusky yellow and emerald light, could be. How could it be so overbearing?
Then inspiration flashed through his mind, and he remembered at once.
Thirty years ago, he had read in an ancient book of a terrifying lineage of creatures from antiquity. Born wreathed in plague, they brought annihilation to mountains and rivers and death to all living things wherever they went, drawing the wrath of heaven and the resentment of humanity.
The ancient book had called that lineage the World-Ending Sick Demons.
The path the Sick Demons cultivated was the Path of Pestilence.
The divine might they wielded resembled this dusky yellow and emerald light.
Different manifestations, the same result: bringing sickness and decay to all things.
But the Path of Pestilence was a peerless path.
Never mind the Mortal World—even in the Nether Realm, very few could master it.
How could a mere boy, still wet behind the ears and not yet twenty, have mastered it?
"The ancient Path of Pestilence?"
"Good heavens!"
"Are we sure this boy isn't some peerless young Qilin secretly nurtured by an extraordinary great domain, sent to this remote frontier of ours to temper his heart amid the mortal dust?"
In the mountain forests, the demons trembled.
Compared with the Mortal World, the Nether Realm had more complete laws and more widespread