Rustle... rustle... rustle...
The Demon Dragon walked alone along a narrow path, with cliffs plunging ten thousand zhang on either side.
The void was filled with faintly visible runes. The slightest misstep would send him crashing into one, and the consequences—
Even the Demon Dragon, who had weathered countless storms, dared not let his guard down here.
He watched his bearings, then suddenly stopped and stepped into the boundless void ahead and to his left.
In an instant, a new path appeared in the void, while the road behind him—the one he had come by—vanished without a trace.
"The hall master once said that the Hell-Suppressing Ghost King Scepter is an extremely unusual divine artifact. I suspect it's because it lost its artifact spirit. That makes it extraordinarily dangerous if anyone gets their hands on it, so it has to be stored separately," the Demon Dragon said.
"If it no longer has an artifact spirit, how can its seal be undone?" asked a butterfly perched on his shoulder.
"I don't know. Do you think I usually get to visit a treasury of this level?" the Demon Dragon replied.
He walked on for a while, then suddenly turned and stepped into the void to his right.
The entire scene dissolved.
Another path appeared ahead, suspended over a bottomless abyss and leading toward the end of a deep, dark bank of mist.
The Demon Dragon stepped onto the path, and everything behind him immediately turned into a phantom, no longer visible.
"Here, you can only move forward. You must not turn back, or the Ninety Million Layers of Restrictions will blast your Divine Soul to smithereens," the Demon Dragon said.
"Then enough chatting. Focus," the butterfly said.
The Demon Dragon gave a derisive smile and murmured, "I'm not an idiot. Even if