Though Nuwa Saint had arrived, Dijun paid her no mind. His eyes were bloodshot, and fury surged through his heart.
"Rumble!"
The Solar True Fire coiling around him burned fiercely, as if it were slipping out of his control.
In the earlier battle in the East Sea, he had lost his younger twin brother, Donghuang Taiyi.
And he himself had been slain by Qin Mu.
Fortunately, with the help of that mysterious person afterward, he had been revived.
Now, all ten of his sons had been shot down by Da Yi.
Dijun was on the verge of madness.
Seeing how furious Dijun was, Nuwa Saint furrowed her brows and said, "Yao Emperor, there is something strange about this matter."
"Why did your ten sons suddenly descend to the lower world? Why was the Heavenly Dao obscured? There must be—"
Nuwa had wanted to urge Dijun to calm down.
But before she could finish, Dijun rudely cut her off. "Enough!"
In the past, he naturally would not have dared show such disrespect to Nuwa, a Saint.
But now, Dijun was a Saint himself, and on top of that, he was grieving the loss of his sons. He simply could not listen to Nuwa.
He had only one thought in his heart:
Wipe out the Witch Clan!
"Hm?"
Seeing Dijun's attitude, Nuwa's expression darkened with displeasure.
If it weren't for the Demon Race, she would not have bothered with any of this.
Besides, after becoming the Saint of the Demon Race, her own Fortune had become bound to theirs.
Nuwa was naturally unwilling to see the Demon Race fall into decline.
Inside the hall, the Demon Race's senior leaders saw how furious Dijun was—and that he even dared rebuke Nuwa Saint. Each of them was terrified, and none dared say a word.