"I'm going to do something. I don't know whether I'll still be alive afterward, so there are some things I need to tell you."
By this, Qingchao Zong naturally meant that he was going to meet the Devil from the Heavens whose origins were unknown. He did not know whether the other party was good or evil, nor did he know whether everything the Devil had shown before the Child of Mist had been an act. Thus, he did not believe he was guaranteed to return alive.
But the meeting had to happen eventually. After all, if the other party's words were true, then the Hills might have a chance of escaping this calamity. Even if that chance was vanishingly small, it was worth the risk.
After all, judging by the power the other party had displayed, how could the Hills possibly be a match for him? Even if the Child of Mist threw everything he had into the fight, he would likely only barely be able to drive him back—and even if he did retreat, the civilization of the Hills' people would probably cease to exist, wouldn't it?
Once they came to blows, that was the only possible outcome.
Therefore, no matter how faint the hope for peace was, no matter how great the cost, he had to fight for it—even if that cost was his own life.
By saying this to Qingpusi and Nabulapu, he was already leaving something akin to a final testament.
Though... if he never returned, that would mean the fiend truly was steeped in monstrous evil and had come to devour the world. In that case, whether he left behind such a testament or not would hardly matter.
Still... it was at least a final entrustment.
What if the power stored within the Death