Demonic Essence flowed faintly around Qin He's fingertips as his gaze settled on the blood-red character "Demon" pulsing upon the Black Demon Banner. His tone was calm, yet it struck straight at the heart of the matter. "Since the Divine Court is so powerful, why didn't you remain there and seek a method to restore your Saint Realm cultivation? Why did you instead leave the Divine Court, return to the Lower Realm, and take the evil path of sacrificing living people?"
The Black Demon Banner's trembling abruptly ceased. Long Qingyun's soul projection remained silent within the banner for a long while. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with exhaustion and resentment that could not be concealed. "Remain in the Divine Court? Easier said than done."
"Within the Divine Court, powerful figures were as numerous as crucian carp crossing a river, while Saint Tier cultivators were as common as cowhair. At my peak, I was Saint Tier and still had some say. But after falling from the Saint Realm, in the eyes of the Divine Court, I was nothing more than a watchdog they could order about."
His voice carried a bone-piercing chill. "Do you think the Divine Court, bathed in holy light, is some pure land? In truth, factions stood everywhere, and the hierarchy had ossified into their very bones. Cultivators like us, who clawed our way up from the Lower Realm, had no Ancient Era inheritance and no one to rely on. For our entire lives, we could only linger at the level of 'envoy' and 'deacon.'"
"The dirty work, the exhausting work, the bitter work—those were always ours. Yet rare resources, cultivation art inheritances, and opportunities for advancement never fell to us, not even a fraction. One slight misstep, and it was a fate of eternal