Cangwu.
There were no stars, no land.
Only a lone island suspended in the void, and clouds and mist that never dispersed.
"Cangwu's clouds and mist conceal its true face."
Zhu Yao's long crimson hair drifted gently behind her, making her small face look even paler.
The ancestral grounds of the Ying clan. On her last visit, she had marveled at this very scenery.
Back then, the Ying ancestor had personally come out to welcome her, and the leaders of all four Dragon Race clans had gathered together.
Back then, none of it had happened yet.
But now, those clouds and mist looked to Zhu Yao like layer upon layer of burial shrouds.
Not long ago, news of the deaths of three Ying elders had spread, shaking the Demon Realm.
Some called her cruel, some called her mad, and others said the Ying had brought it upon themselves.
But the deaths of those three Ying elders had nothing to do with her.
She had indeed wanted to pressure the Dragon Race, and she had indeed wanted to kill a few of them to establish her might.
But before she could act, those three had died.
Zhu Yao had offered no explanation.
Nor could she be bothered to.
Soft footsteps sounded behind her.
"You came." Zhu Yao did not turn around.
The newcomer stopped beside her, dressed in a dark red gown. Dark gold phoenix patterns embroidered along its hem flickered in and out of sight in the void.
Her hair was black as ink, her features like a painting. Without a trace of makeup, she was as radiant as peach and plum blossoms.
Feng Qing, leader of the Phoenix Race.
The only old relic left in the Demon Realm who belonged to the same era as Zhu Yao.
"With something