Chapter 11: The Demon Sovereign’s Hunt Begins — Run, as far as you can…
Within the endless abyss, a cacophony of noise, desperate cries, and the clashing of steel drifted out like a plague, slowly eroding everything in its path. Soon, the sounds of battle and the tearing of flesh by demon beasts began to echo throughout the Secret Realm, accompanied by an incessant tide of hopeless wailing.
The sky grew dark, as if all color had been drained from the world.
Just then, a bare foot stepped out of the abyss. A voice followed—beautiful, yet laced with a dangerous, enchanting charm: “Oh? There are actually living people here?”
The newcomer possessed a face so exquisite and flamboyant it blurred the lines between man and woman. He toyed with six golden leaves in his hand, each carved with a single character: Greed, Anger, Ignorance, Attachment, Love, Hate, and Desire. They drifted in the air, radiating a golden glow, shifting between the patterns of southward-flying geese and clusters of blooming flowers.
Jiang Fei recoiled, his face twisted in absolute horror. He opened his mouth, but it took a long time before he could force out the words: “…It’s actually the Scroll of Forgotten Evil!”
Su Huan’s pupils contracted. “He is a Demon Sovereign…”
Upon hearing this, a smile slowly bloomed on that devastatingly beautiful face—soul-stirring yet terrifying. He let out a soft chuckle. “To think that even after ten thousand years, the fearsome reputation I left within the Immortal Sects still lingers.”
Nangong Yi’s mind wavered for a moment, but he quickly snapped back to his senses, shouting, “Don’t look at him! He can bewitch your mind!”
Qi Zi’s gaze grew vacant as he took an involuntary step forward. Fortunately, Meng Qinghui was unaffected by the glamour and pulled him back just in time.
As Su Huan’s mind drifted into a trance, he felt a sharp pinch. He jerked awake only to find Xiao Jianming beside him, his eyes filled with mockery as if saying, “With this little strength, you actually want to be number one? How overconfident.” After a single glance, Xiao Jianming turned his head away.
Su Huan pursed his lips. Suddenly, Meng Qinghui’s voice transmission echoed in his mind: “A Demon Sovereign has arrived in person; this is a disaster beyond our ability to stop. We must inform the Immortals immediately. Does anyone have a way to communicate with the outside?”
Su Huan froze, hesitating. “This Secret Realm was formed from an ancient ruin, intended as a trial for those ascending to immortality. Although it has declined, the spiritual laws operating within were created by God-level experts tens of thousands of years ago. No one can break them…”
Fang Mingyun [Hua Wuyou] was anxious to the point of death. “Why are you rambling about all that? Get to the point!”
Su Huan fell silent, and Xiao Jianming beat him to the answer: “We can’t get out. We can only wait for the one-month period to end and let the Secret Realm open automatically.”
Jiang Fei’s face was the picture of despair. “It’s all because your Xuanji Sect insisted on picking this Secret Realm for some damn trial. I told you, what was wrong with following the Sword Cleansing Sect’s lead and having a simple, straightforward competition? Great. Now we’re all finished!”
As they exchanged mental messages, a seemingly endless demon army appeared behind the Demon Sovereign. Though the horde stared at the group like hungry wolves, not a single one moved without his command.
The Demon Sovereign ignored them. Instead, he turned around and sighed as he personally collected the remains of the demon who had been sacrificed for the formation. “One demon dies, ten thousand are born,” he said with a note of regret. “Your contribution is immortal. I shall carve it upon the Heroic Spirit Stele.”
The demon army behind him also bowed their heads in silent mourning.
It was laughable—they were clearly demons, yet they were imitating mortals by erecting monuments for the dead.
The moment the thought crossed Qi Zi’s mind, the Demon Sovereign’s gaze snapped toward him. The youth was sent flying as if by an invisible force, only managing to stop after skidding for miles.
Cold, crimson eyes slowly swept over the group, who were on high alert. The Demon Sovereign looked up at the golden, glowing ranking board in the sky and laughed. “Years ago, that old thief Feng Qing sealed us into the Barren Lands, leaving my kin to be slaughtered and tortured at the whim of Immortal disciples…”
“Now, under these circumstances, it is only fitting that you all taste the despair of being turtles trapped in a jar.”
The group’s hearts sank as they heard the endless demon army raise their spears and roar, “Kill them! Kill them!”
The color drained from their faces. Meng Qinghui gritted her teeth and summoned an Immortal-grade artifact—one that should never have appeared in the Immortal Alliance Conference trials—to shield the eight of them. She shouted, “I’m sending you away!”
The Demon Sovereign smiled faintly.
“Run. Run as far as you can.”
“That is the only way this hunting game stays interesting.”
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