"I never thought you'd actually come out, Old Sun!"
"What, are you planning to bring back a Nine Li disciple to play with too?"
Above the Skyward River, two figures stood silently.
One looked ancient. The skin on his face hung like withered bark, gray tinged with black; his eye sockets were deeply sunken, his eyeballs nearly bulging out. It seemed as though fire burned in his eyes, purple streaked with green.
The other was hideous, especially his nose—huge and red, taking up a third of his entire face. His mouth was large as well, its corners nearly stretching to his ears.
The auras of both men were exceedingly strange.
The old man was like a dying candle in the wind. One breath seemed enough to snuff him out, yet no matter how it swayed, that wisp of flame continued to burn.
The big-nosed man's aura was much more solid, heavy and dense, like a volcano on the verge of eruption—extremely violent.
Though the two were dressed differently, each wore a distinct pattern over his chest.
It depicted a mountain range. Within the former's range was a Blood Pool; within the latter's burned crimson flames.
If any cultivators familiar with such matters had been present, they would surely have drawn a sharp breath and paled slightly upon seeing the patterns on their chests.
This was the Demon Sect renowned throughout Dry Province.
It was known as the Hundred Demons Palace.
As its name suggested, this sect had been jointly founded by a hundred Golden Core demon cultivators to resist the righteous path's extermination.
Using the Netherworld Mountains of Dry Province as their stronghold, they had formed a vast alliance of demon cultivators and occupied that mountain range stretching over ten thousand li.
Even among demon cultivators, they were immensely famous.