Though Si Zu had not said it outright, his meaning was obvious.
He too wanted to join in the Devil Race's revival, with no regrets even in death.
"Go," Purgatory Demon Fiend said quietly.
Those three words seemed to have drained all his strength. From then on, he remained silent.
For the stability of the Devil Domain, he had labored for hundreds of millions of years, even abandoning the Devil Race of old.
Yet after hundreds of millions of years, he discovered that everything he had done had been futile—perhaps even wrong.
Not everyone could endure such a gulf and such a blow.
"Ancestor, I won't leave," Si Zu said, as though he had made up his mind, kneeling on the ground.
"You raised me from childhood. I am willing to guard the Devil Domain forever."
"What I raised was a disciple of flesh and blood, not a puppet," Purgatory Demon Fiend refused with a shake of his head.
"Go. I can no longer return to the Devil Race.
You will represent my will. When battle comes in the future, kill a few more people in my stead."
Si Zu wiped away the tears that had fallen without his notice. In the end, he rose to his feet, bowed toward Devil Mountain, and only then departed.
After leaping from the cliff without hesitation, Xu Zimo finally felt his body lose weight.
He was actually unable to control his own body.
At the bottom of the cliff, it was as though he had fallen into an enormous bubble in an instant.
The bubble was warm and soft.
Then the bubble burst, dissolving the force of the fall, and Xu Zimo landed safely.
His feet touched the ground. He looked around and found nothing but desolation, with only a single temple