Three days later.
Above the plateau, clouds filled the sky, and a steady rain fell.
Two camps confronted each other across a small river on the vast grasslands.
On the western side stood an army led by the Devil Clan.
The great army, composed of western humans, western divine beasts, and strange beasts, stretched like a boundless sea.
And in the east.
There stood the eastern Demon Race, divine beasts, and an army of the Shang Dynasty.
War drums sounded on both sides, their thunder shaking heaven and earth and piercing the clouds.
Among the Devil Clan, eighteen hundred towering members of the Devil Ghost Race stood upon the earth, their blue-purple skin looking all the more somber in the wind and rain.
He cast a grave glance at the opposing demon army.
From their auras alone, he knew that every one of them was powerful. This battle would likely be difficult.
But at this moment, war hung by a thread, and everything would depend on their own abilities.
At the front of the demon lines, Di Jun, Vermilion Bird, and Jiang Yang likewise gazed gravely at their opponents.
Di Jun spoke first.
"The Devil Ghost Race has come in force. Judging by their auras alone, all eighteen hundred of those devils are powerful."
"Hmph, so what? In a moment, I'll burn them all to death!"
Vermilion Bird said coldly.
"Hahaha, well said, Demon Sage Vermilion Bird. However strong they are, we of the Demon Race have no fear."
Behind the three, Peng laughed loudly.
He did not fear war; he even looked forward to slaughtering all before him in this great battle.
"We must still be cautious. They are no weaklings."
The Lord of the Clouds, however, spoke steadily.
Jiang Yang watched the scene before him without a word.