South of Great Xia lay the Demon Country's territory.
As the Martial Saint's Spirit Body pointed a finger, white light burst forth and sank into the Flood Dragon's forehead.
Humm—
Boom—
First came a low hum, then it erupted into a thunderous roar.
Blinding white light shot from the Flood Dragon's eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils, even from the gaps between his scales.
In a single breath,
the dazzling light vanished.
The Evil Flood Dragon seemed to lose all strength holding him up and slowly began to fall.
Rumble—
He struck the ground with a heavy crash. The earth shook, and loose stones tumbled down.
His tail slammed back into the pitch-black pool, throwing up towering waves that roared and crashed.
His head hung limp over a jagged heap of bones. The light in his scarlet slit pupils had gone completely dim, and no breath remained in him.
Hazy white light still flowed around the Martial Saint's Spirit Body as he slowly withdrew his finger, as though he had merely brushed away dust.
Just then,
before Jiang Ning and the others could recover from the shock of the Evil Flood Dragon's death, ripples like waves spread through the air above the Cold Pool.
An aura far older and more majestic than the Evil Flood Dragon's seeped from the depths of the void. The rock walls of the entire Burial Dragon Abyss trembled and hummed in response.
"Mo Chen, it's been a long time."
The deep voice was not loud, yet it rang directly through everyone's Spirit Souls and minds, reverberating within their bodies.
The Demon King Heiyu's expression changed drastically. He dropped to his knees at once, not daring even to raise his head.
Among the Demon Race, strength commanded respect, and the hierarchy of bloodline and power was rigid.