Closed-Door Cultivation

Flame-Burners Association—the Underground City.

In exploring the original headquarters of the Flame-Burners Association, two of its three councilors had died—the two who actually ran things.

The only councilor who rarely involved himself in its affairs, a scholar, had set up shop in Hell Valley and founded the New Flame-Burners Association.

The Wizard Black Tower had taken over all the Underground City's resources and personnel, leaving it utterly deserted.

Yin Ming thought for a moment and understood why he had arrived here. "This time, I didn't travel from the Prime Material Plane to the Beck Subplane. The teleportation coordinates were the ones I used on my last trip there."

Meanwhile, on the Abyssal Plane.

A hazy face formed from abyssal energy saw an enormous Bigmouth Demon head approaching.

It instantly understood who the unruly monster Yin Ming had mentioned was.

"Beelzebub?" it exclaimed. "How did you get here?"

The place where Beelzebub had been exiled was a nearly barren stretch of void.

Even if the Abyssal War had ended in defeat, Beelzebub would only have needed to awaken and eat the surviving Demons before falling asleep again.

Besides, how had a Demon with a muddled mind crossed layer upon layer of Dimensional Mist and found the Abyss so precisely?

What astonishing upheaval had taken place

to bring Beelzebub to the Abyssal Plane?

"Hungry. So hungry..."

Beelzebub naturally gave no answer.

His scarlet eyes fixed on the plane before him, which was roughly the size of his head.

He had long forgotten what he had been chasing. He slowly opened the vast mouth of his plane-sized head, thick saliva welling up inside as he prepared to bite off a chunk of the plane and devour it.

"Uuu..."

His hunger mingled with the divine power spilling from him, becoming billions of black