While the Mist Cloud Empire and the Central Plains Alliance were locked in fierce fighting, the Hun Clan, one of the Ancient Eight Clans, faced an unprecedented catastrophe...
The Soul Realm, home to the Hun Clan, had been torn apart by a devastating battle. Hundreds of millions of clanspeople had died in the shock waves. Only a handful of experts at the Dou Zun level or above had survived, barely clinging to life. They stared at the scene before them in terror and despair, looking as though they had seen a ghost.
A handsome youth of only eighteen or nineteen held the exalted Hun Clan patriarch, Hun Tiandi, aloft by the throat with one hand. A faint grin spread across his lips. His cold, fathomless eyes regarded the man indifferently, as though looking at a corpse, while an indelible gloom lingered between his brows.
"The Hun Clan... what a nostalgic name. To think the descendants of Hun Xingmeng, who once followed me around calling me his elder brother, would become so accomplished that they destroyed my Xiao Clan. It seems those unworthy descendants of mine really were a disappointment." Seemingly recalling the distant past, "Xiao Yan" spoke softly, his voice heavy with emotion.
Hun Tiandi coughed up blood and raised his heavy eyelids. He stared in utter terror at Xiao Yan-or rather, the other Soul Body controlling his body. "Impossible-you should have been dead for tens of thousands of years! How could you have returned to life, Xiao Di of the Xiao Clan?!"
"Nothing in this world is impossible. Your ancestor Hun Xingmeng was once nothing more than an insignificant servant following behind me, yet the Xiao Clan ultimately fell at the hands of your Hun Clan." Xiao Di sighed before continuing, "Today, your Hun Clan deserves to be destroyed.