In the Ancient Demon Cave, boundless Demonic Fog above spread like scattered clouds in wild disarray, blotting out the sky and covering the sun.
At its center stood demon mountains, unfallen for tens of thousands of years, resting against the spine of heaven and earth. Like the bones of purgatory, they stood proudly above all else.
Below, the Demon River flowed silently, with creatures of the devil realm wandering within. Beneath the rippling gleam lay the beginning of sin.
This was a sealed world.
A place with no future.
For the Devil Masters living here, it seemed that heaven and earth had never changed through the passing of countless centuries.
They had already grown accustomed to such desolate, lonely days.
Every day, they did the same things.
Or perhaps different things.
In any case, whatever they did, it was only to dispel this loneliness and boredom.
At this moment, inside the Devil Race's grand hall.
A demon covered in curse marks sat there.
Astonishing Killing Intent radiated from its entire body. Merely approaching it made one feel as though they were about to suffocate.
This Killing Intent was like poison that gnawed at the bones.
It filled people with terror, yet made them unable to stop themselves.
This Curse Mark Demon held an extremely high status, even above that of Military Generals.
It was one of the Four Great Protectors of the devil sect.
These Protectors existed to guard the sect.
It could be said that their status ranked only beneath the Devil Master and the devil elders.
Within the Devil Race, they were absolute high-ranking figures.
Yet such a powerful demon was currently sitting before the cold, sinister devil hall, counting the ants on the ground.
The ants seemed to be moving house.
It watched them listlessly.
As though