At that moment, the Crimson Demon Ancestor's eyes were stretched wide, the corners split, and they were filled with a sea of scarlet. His entire body was consumed by an anger too fierce to suppress. His strength surged through him, as though every meridian in his body were swelling to bursting from the searing vital blood coursing within him. Yet he could not move a single muscle.
This scene was the deepest memory buried in the Crimson Demon Ancestor's heart—the memory he least wanted to touch, yet could never forget.
None of this was an illusory dream. It had truly happened, when he was seven years old.
He had witnessed this scene of utter devastation with his own eyes. He also knew full well that the one responsible for this tragedy was his Third Uncle, a man who had always committed every kind of evil and never applied himself to honest work, and who had joined forces with pirates.
He had fallen into the heaps of corpses as well. Yet the Crimson Demon Ancestor's life had not been meant to end there. Although someone had struck him from behind with a spear, it had merely pierced his right ribs, and he had not died completely.
When he awoke and saw the corpses of his relatives everywhere, with severed limbs scattered throughout the village, fear and grief quickly vanished from his heart. What remained was boundless fury.
Now, as he watched one relative after another being slaughtered and familiar villagers losing their heads, the Crimson Demon Ancestor's rage reached its peak. He sank completely into it, unable to escape...
At the moment the Crimson Demon Ancestor suddenly fell into overwhelming fury, Qin Fengming, who had already stepped onto one of the paths, also abruptly halted. Wrapped in a mass of restraining