The Devil Race that had brought about the apocalypse in his previous life were actually the good guys?
Then who were the bad guys?
Then had all the monstrous crimes the Devil Race committed in his previous life been to uphold justice?
Had all the living beings wantonly slaughtered by the Devil Race deserved to die?
What kind of logic was that?
History was a little girl anyone could dress up however they pleased. Those qualified to write history always portrayed themselves as the side of absolute justice.
Treating meaningless slaughter as justice-had he not experienced the catastrophe of his previous life himself, he really would have believed that the Devil Race had stepped forward to take a stand.
Zu Yuan sneered, scoffing at the history of the Devil Race before him.
Suddenly, a light flared before Zu Yuan's eyes, and an enormous phantom of a Demon God stood before him.
He had a human face and a snake's body, scarlet all over, with long, vertical eyes.
There was no telling how long his body was, but his scarlet serpentine body coiled around and around, seemingly without end.
The enormous Demon God phantom encircled the entire space, his massive serpentine body forming a circle with Zu Yuan at its center.
That head, so like a human face, rose upright, and a pair of vertical eyes looked toward Zu Yuan.
An ancient, desolate aura emanated from the phantom, sending a violent tremor through Zu Yuan's heart.
The three Demon God statues he had seen were nothing more than dead objects. Only when a Demon God's true oppressive might revealed itself did Zu Yuan feel the power of those once known as the Twelve Demon Gods!
His eyes were filled with gratification as he looked at Zu Yuan before him and spoke.