Sincerity was a sure kill against any living being with a heart.
From the innocence of childhood to the complexity of adulthood.
At first, one was like a blank sheet of paper, gradually covered in all kinds of scribbles.
And when those markings grew so dense that one could no longer see oneself clearly.
One yearned all the more for the days when one was still that blank sheet.
So when faced with the Gonggong Clan, who treated him with utter sincerity, Zu Yuan began to waver.
Chongming had once tried to use words to make Zu Yuan feel a connection with the Devil Race.
But Zu Yuan, dominated by the memories of his previous life, had been unable to feel any empathy at all.
Yet when Zu Yuan personally encountered the Devil Race's sincerity, he began to waver again.
Zu Yuan, who had ushered in the apocalyptic catastrophe, had led the Devil Race in slaughtering the living beings of the Cultivation World.
Then, if he plotted against the lives of every living being in the Demon Realm's Twelve Tribes.
How would he be any different from Zu Yuan, the Demon Venerable of his previous life?
No...
I am Zu Yuan...
As long as I die, the living beings of both realms can live in peace!
Zu Yuan's gaze grew unfocused, and his right hand involuntarily tightened around his saber's hilt.
"The great calamity will not change because one person dies. Instead, it will descend in another form!"
A lively, clear voice rang out beside Zu Yuan's ear, and his bewildered eyes gradually regained their light.
Zu Yuan lowered his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. How had he become so caught up in appearances?
Now that he held the great calamity in his own hands, it would