"Roar!"
A tiger's roar rang out, its might shaking the eight directions. With the roar, a black tiger soared into the air, a man seated on its back.
Below, the mountains and plains were packed with demons—wolves, insects, tigers, leopards, birds, beasts, bugs, fish, all kinds and varieties. A rough count put Black Tiger's hundred thousand together with Six-Eared Macaque's eighty thousand.
All at once, Lu Chuan had gained another hundred and eighty thousand subordinates.
"Little ones, listen to me! Move out!"
Lu Chuan issued the order, leading the great army away from Black Tiger's mountain stronghold and marching in a vast, mighty tide straight toward the southwest.
The location Poxun had given was there.
"Yes!"
The little demons were flushed with excitement. At his words, they shouted themselves hoarse, like fanatical fans.
Of course, the customs of the Demon Realm had always been like this.
The strong were honored!
There was only one way for the weak to survive, and that was to attach themselves to the strong.
If you defeated their king, then you were their new king. And if one day you were replaced by another king, they would treat that new king the same way.
Until one day, they themselves managed to become kings, or died in the process of growing.
This was the Demon Race's unique way of survival.
Here, the Human Race's talk of loyalty, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust, of swearing loyalty unto death—none of it existed at all.
Rumble!
The sight of a hundred and eighty thousand troops on the march—just imagining it was enough to know how shocking it was. Wherever they passed, mountains shook and the earth trembled, startling every great demon king into shutting their doors, thinking their own mountain stronghold was about to be attacked.
Only after the