In an unreachable, bizarre dimension, Zhao Cheng's true body watched the various struggles unfold above, countless thoughts rising in his heart.
He was not omniscient, so he had not anticipated that events would develop like this.
Of course, this was mainly because, on one hand, he had to conceal himself. Watching too closely often left traces, so he did not look too much.
On the other hand, the two outsiders were both shrouded in mist. Even now that they had revealed themselves, when Zhao Cheng looked at them, he still felt that they existed neither in the present, nor the past, nor the future. Across antiquity and the future, all was empty.
Everything he saw was utterly vacant.
As if the two of them did not exist at all.
As for all the beatings his incarnation had taken, Zhao Cheng could only say: as expected of himself—so resilient. Under normal circumstances, if anyone in this world had been put in his place, they would likely have been devoured by the Heavenly Demon long ago.
Yet he could always create miracles. In circumstances that were all but impossible, he had borrowed the power of many Emperors to refine the demon seed in reverse, actually gaining a sliver of breathing room through the gaps in the net cast across heaven and earth.
However, to Zhao Cheng, whether the Heavenly Demon or his incarnation won in the end, the result was the same. He had planted the Dao within the Demon Fetus; no matter who won, he won.
Of course, if his incarnation truly won, then his final gains would contain several degrees more mystery than if the Heavenly Demon claimed Victory, regardless of righteousness or evil.
As for the two outsiders achieving the final Victory—
Even with him as an unforeseen variable,