The Demonic Source Death Realm lay shrouded in black mist, a sinister and eerie forbidden land that no one had dared enter for thousands upon thousands of years.
Within the Death Realm, a man in dark armor sat cross-legged. Black qi coiled around him as a formidable pressure rose, shaking the entire world.
The Demonic Race War God, an unparalleled expert renowned in ancient times, had awakened once more after more than a hundred thousand years.
Outside the Death Realm, a figure in white approached. His once-gentle face was now exceptionally cold. With his disguise shed, the Devil Race's indifference was laid bare.
"Xuan Qing pays respects to the War God of our race."
Before the Death Realm, Xuan Qing stopped and bowed respectfully.
Deep within the Death Realm, Asura opened his eyes. Looking at the young man in white before him, he calmly asked, "What is it?"
"Xuan Qing sincerely invites the War God of our race to visit the Crown Prince's Estate, as a gesture of gratitude," Xuan Qing said, straightening.
Asura narrowed his eyes, seeing through the thoughts in the other man's heart. He refused directly. "There is no need. I saved you because Demonic Emperor Kunyi once showed me kindness. But favors are always exhausted eventually. If you came to ask me to help you contend for the imperial throne, then there is no need to say another word."
At those words, a chill flashed through Xuan Qing's eyes, though he concealed it well and smiled. "I will remember the War God's words. The War God of our race truly should not involve himself in struggles for imperial power."
"Is there anything else? If not, leave."
From within the pervasive black mist, Asura spoke in an indifferent tone.
"One last matter."
Xuan Qing's expression darkened. Demonic