The eight Old Ancestors dragged the transparent barrier "coffin" through the void for who knew how long. They passed through layer upon layer of folds in space and crossed one unfamiliar region after another. At last, the spatial barrier ahead grew thin, and a soft light shone through a crack.
The Scorpion Race Old Ancestor at the front extended a pincer and gave a gentle slash, tearing an opening in space. The eight Old Ancestors filed out, and the view before them suddenly opened up—
Green hills and clear waters, birdsong and fragrant flowers. In the distance stood a cluster of neatly arranged houses, with cooking smoke curling above them. Children's laughter drifted faintly through the air. Farmers worked the fields, and vendors hawked their wares in the streets. Everything was peaceful, steeped in the warmth of ordinary life.
It was a Human Race town.
No passerby who knew nothing of this place would ever have imagined that beneath this peaceful land lay the lair of eight Demon Race Old Ancestors. How ironic—their lair stood at the very heart of a Human Race settlement, wrapped day after day in the bustle of human life, yet the Human Race had never discovered it.
Dragging the barrier behind them, the eight Old Ancestors made their way through several streets as though they knew them by heart and stopped before an ordinary-looking residence. A plaque above its entrance bore the words "Zeng Residence." It looked no different from the homes of other wealthy families in town. Yet as the eight Old Ancestors approached, the vermilion doors swung inward without a sound, revealing a long, shadowy corridor.
The eight Old Ancestors filed in, passed through the corridor, wound around several courtyards, and finally entered an underground palace. Brilliantly lit, it had fist-sized luminous pearls