Who Is It?

What was there to be happy about?

His voice was calm, yet it stirred a faint breeze through the starry sky, blowing toward the scant, thin blood mist that remained.

Disturbed by the wind, the already fragile blood-colored face grew even blurrier.

At this final moment,

Xue Huai finally came to his senses. Amid his extreme horror, a trace of regret suddenly surfaced in his eyes.

Eighth Order, Star Pole Eighth Layer?!

Reaching Ninth Order on the spot, ignoring a million years of slumber?!

Having just broken through, he could drag him down from Above the Nine Heavens?!

Any one of those feats far surpassed everything he had previously known about the Heavenly Demon race!

A Formless Sky Demon simply could not be judged by common sense!

This was an out-and-out prodigy, absolutely not someone he could provoke!

He had been wrong. Wrong from the very beginning—wrong beyond all reason!

That trace of regret swiftly swelled into boundless remorse.

If he had not greedily accepted the decree in pursuit of merit from the start, the younger generation of his clan would not have died in vain; if he had obeyed Netherworld's orders all along and not tried to be clever, the ancestral land would not have been swept clean; if he had not become so carried away just now and overturned the Starry River with the Sea of Blood, he would not have been forcibly dragged down from the Nine Heavens...

Unfortunately, there were no ifs!

"Formless Sky Demon..."

Xue Huai's eyes reflected the young man's figure. A flash of sudden realization passed over his wavering face of blood mist.

The Formless Sky Demon was not truly formless. It was simply that every enemy who had seen its true face had died.

—Including himself!

The blood mist scattered, and ashes