Lu Hou'er knew little about the Demonic Script inscribed upon the Emperor Stele. Perhaps it was related to his Demonic Script affinity and the fact that he had not fallen too deeply into demonhood.
Peng Haibing, on the other hand, knew it in great detail. He seemed to regard it as his greatest stroke of fortune, perhaps also under the influence of having fallen too deeply into demonhood.
Yet Lu Hou'er remained skeptical. It was not that he believed the Demonic Script recorded on the Emperor Stele lacked power.
Quite the opposite. According to what Peng Haibing had said before, the Emperor Stele's Demonic Script should contain three thousand eight hundred characters, holding the essence of War God Xing Tian's Dao Fruit and demonic arts. It would have been one thing if it contained only methods, but it also harbored three thousand eight hundred strands of Demonic Nature.
Two of those strands had respectively entered Peng Haibing and Lu Hou'er. With only a brief alliance, their spirits merging with heaven and earth, they had nearly wielded a faint shred of War God Xing Tian's power—enough to slay Grandmaster martial artists.
If, if all three thousand eight hundred characters gathered into one, what kind of power would that possess?
Would it not be enough to recreate the heaven-shaking might of an ancient War God?
Power was one thing. The frightening part was whether, once such terrifying Demonic Nature entered their bodies, the two of them would still be themselves.
The evil creature formed from Yang Guang's remnant soul had sought to possess his blood descendant, Mu Yi. If they carried such Demonic Nature within them, and Xingtian possessed them in turn, what would be strange about that?
If weak people inherited power that was too mighty, they would very likely lose