"Boom—!!!"
The lair's massive stone gate looked as if an invisible giant had kicked it head-on.
Amid a rumble that shook the earth, it burst inward into countless fragments, propelled by fierce gusts of wind!
The daylight outside, far too bright, flooded into the dim cavern—usually illuminated by blood-red crystal clusters—like water bursting through a breached dam.
Its glare made every demon king at the banquet shrink their pupils and instinctively squint.
"Roar?!"
The Gray Wolf King, closest to the entrance, reacted first.
It let out a low growl, its steel-needle gray fur bristling as it whipped around toward the light.
But reflected in its usually cunning, ferocious beastly eyes was more than discomfort from the blinding glare. There was also a deep, bloodline-born terror—the extreme fear one felt when facing a natural enemy!
It sensed that the demonic power circulating through its body had fallen into a thick quagmire, becoming sluggish and obscure.
More terrifying still, the light seemed to contain a power of utmost intensity. Even its tough fur prickled with burning pain, as though it could catch fire at any moment!
"Who goes there? How dare you make trouble at this king's birthday banquet? Are you looking to die... Hmm?!"
The Blood Flood Dragon King sprang to its feet on the throne.
Its blood-red brocade robe fluttered despite the absence of wind.
Rage at the insult first flared across its handsome, eerie face, and it shouted a sharp demand.
But halfway through its sentence, its extraordinarily keen sense of smell caught the visitor's scent—one more familiar than any other, yet now enough to make its heart stop.
It was the bloody scent of the same stock!
The blood of its people, the Flying Blood Python clan!
And there was so much of it that it couldn't have