The Black Tiger Yao!
It really was the Black Tiger Yao!
Even though he was skeletal now, even though his blood and vitality had declined, even though his body was hunched like a turtle's.
Even though his eyes were blood-red and his demon wind was twisted out of shape.
He was still the Black Tiger Yao!
The Black Tiger Yao, in the flesh!
The former overlord of the Yao Stronghold's Outer Layer, a powerhouse who ruled over the lives and deaths of tens of thousands of the Demon Race, a demon the Fox Book Yao Alliance considered a thorn in its eye and a splinter in its flesh.
He was also the inner demon that had haunted Su Changsheng ever since his transmigration, the nightmare that had startled him awake countless times at midnight.
Su Changsheng could not forget his sinister gaze, nor how he had bowed and scraped before him, forced to gouge out his reverse scale to save himself.
Still less could he forget struggling painfully under his oppression, living with painstaking caution, even having to abandon all dignity to curry favor with him.
Why?
By what right?
He was already about to migrate away. He was no longer going to have anything to do with the Black Mountain Demon Stockade. You could take your broad, sunlit road, and I could cross my single-plank bridge!
So why, why appear at this final moment?
Anyone could have come to stop the Fox Book Yao Alliance's migration. Why did it have to be you, you bastard?
Could the coupling effect of those ties really be so powerful? He had already been so careful, suppressing the Mirage Art to its lowest level, yet he still had to be dragged into this?
Resentment seethed in Su Changsheng's heart. His immense fury nearly