The Demon Race Kingdom, The Army Presses In

The Demon Race Kingdom: An Army at the Gates

As the one-month deadline gradually drew near, the atmosphere on Sacred Emperor Mountain grew increasingly grave.

The upper echelons of the ancient sect, having finished coordinating with one another, became more anxious by the day and hurriedly prepared for battle. Even the dullest disciples gradually caught a whiff of something ominous.

Then again, everyone went about their business as usual.

There were countless major sects in the Divine Land that had humiliated the Solar Ancient Sect—if not ten thousand, then eight thousand. Who knew where this nameless enemy ranked? Get in line.

On this day.

Clusters of Solar True Fire suddenly streaked across the heavens, shooting toward the eastern Divine Land and descending upon Sacred Emperor Mountain, the ancestral grounds of the Solar Ancient Sect, with overwhelming momentum.

Several hundred imposing figures emerged from within. Every one of them had a youthful face, golden hair cascading down their backs, and even eyes that gleamed a brilliant gold.

From afar, they looked like balls of blazing golden flame.

As the saying went, even a rotten ship still had three inches of nails.

No matter how far the Solar Ancient Sect had declined, it was still an inheritance of the Sacred Emperor, once the greatest holy land of Ziwei. The sect had over ten thousand disciples, and its basic framework remained intact.

A large group of enemies of unknown origin had forcefully entered the ancestral grounds, setting off every open and hidden alarm.

The Dragon Transformation elder on duty poked his head out in a fluster, surrounded by several disciples as he tried to identify the newcomers. "Damn it, which great sect has come to squeeze us dry this time?"

To be honest, after suffering so many brutal beatings from the world,