As though a gale swept through, scattering the sky-wide crimson.

The great sun hung high, the firmament clear.

Beneath that magnificent, imposing spear-strike, the mountain forest had somehow taken not the slightest damage. Everything was as before, only the lingering scent of demon blood spreading slowly outward.

A mountain wind passed through.

Miao Qinghui suddenly shivered, staring blankly at the heavens. That was the power she'd dreamed of her whole life.

And with the black-robed young man's departure, it had all dissolved, like waking from some grand dream.

"That Dao Palace just now — how did it compare to Senior Brother Nie's?" she asked, mumbling.

"I don't know."

Tong Xinchuan steadied his breathing. This was no longer a realm he could judge.

"So he really is our father." Yu Chao'an wiped away a cold sweat. No wonder Senior Brother and Sister trusted the man so completely — turned out he was the only one who'd been fretting for nothing all along.

He flicked away the sweat and said, a little sheepishly, "Are we still going to find the other two demon emperors?"

Surely those others weren't hiding killing moves like this white horse had.

"No. We're going back."

Tong Xinchuan turned, concise and to the point.

Their aim had been to conceal Senior Brother Nie's cultivation — but Shen Yi's strength was now equally terrifying, and displayed this openly besides.

If the Thousand Demon Den wanted to spare a hand to deal with their senior brother, it would first have to get past Shen Yi.

He led the two of them off on a cloud toward Wutong Mountain.

Several days and nights later, just as night first fell—

Tong Xinchuan drew out the golden arrow, landed at the foot of Wutong Mountain, and walked into the hidden path.

Just then, his eyelid twitched.

For at the bend up ahead, a figure in an azure robe lay stretched out rigidly across the path — and were it not for the faint snoring, he'd have taken the man for a corpse.

"The Vajra Rope?"

Tong Xinchuan glanced at the golden cord binding…