Three days later.
The Demon City of Reception.
The most imposing, most solemn administrative heart of the entire Demon Domain frontier was now as silent as death.
The heavy Demon Cloud that never dispersed piled layer upon layer, pressing low against the vault of the sky and completely shrouding the vast, towering main hall.
Between heaven and earth, only bone-chilling demonic energy flowed slowly, sweeping in every direction.
An overbearing pressure emanating from an Asura filled heaven and earth.
Every thread of his aura proclaimed the supreme, absolute majesty of the Demon Domain's highest powers, the direct lineage of an Overgod.
At the very center of the hall, a tall, aloof figure in gold and black stood silently.
This was the Asura City Lord, recently dispatched to the frontier to assume full control over the entire territory of the Demon City of Reception.
He stood straight as a spear, his bearing cold and imperious, his gold-and-black demonic robes stirring without wind.
As a gifted scion of an Overgod's direct lineage, he had stood at the very heart of power in the Demon Domain since birth, his noble blood granting him an innate position above all races and living beings.
His every movement carried the lofty arrogance and indifference of the highest God Race.
Yet now, deep in his eyes, there lingered an unshakable irritation and impatience.
To him, this barren, desolate, backward stretch of demonic frontier was nothing but utter humiliation and wasted time.
He had resided in the core God Domain of the Demon Domain, with boundless prospects and immense authority.
Yet a single transfer order had relegated him to the frontier to guard this desolate wasteland.
To him, everything here was merely a dispute among lowly ants, unworthy of even a glance.
His purpose on this journey had