Bai Qingsong paced back and forth across the floor of the Demon Lord’s Hall in East Yao Prefecture, anxious as an ant on a hot pan. Whenever a member of the demon clan came to report the battle’s progress, he would kick them out without a second thought.
The reason was simple: every piece of news that reached Bai Qingsong’s ears was bad—no hint of good fortune.
Two days earlier, when he had led the demon army back into the Demon Realm, the campaign to overthrow Heaven had officially ended. Yet the first thing Bai Qingsong did upon his return was to brand Nie Wang, Demon Lord of Nirvana Prefecture, a traitor—and he had the proof to back it up.
During the Heavenly campaign, in broad daylight Nie Wang had slain Qu Congchun, the newly appointed Demon Lord of Jueque Prefecture. Countless witnesses had seen it with their own eyes—there was no disputing the fact. After killing Qu Zhengding, Nie Wang had not even bothered to explain; he had simply fled with his Nirvana Prefecture clansmen, abandoning the rest of the demon host in the Celestial Realm.
All were facts.
Thus, by common reckoning, the failure of this campaign lay squarely at Nie Wang’s feet. This traitor had caused the deaths of so many demon lords. Bai Qingsong, standing for justice, would see him punished.
In the Demon Realm, ritual justification mattered little—there was little difference between a justified cause and a petty quarrel. Yet Bai Qingsong now stood on the high ground of righteousness, and his prestige soared. Moreover, countless demon clansmen had fallen in the Celestial campaign; their kin, inflamed by his speech, boiled with rage.
At Bai Qingsong’s command, they formed an alliance to hunt down the traitor, marching in overwhelming force toward Nirvana Prefecture. He likewise gathered all his strongest underlings, intent on annihilating Nie Wang in one fell swoop—and cementing his claim to the Demon Throne.
Everything seemed to go according to plan—until Nie Wang, with the aid of a mysterious woman, cut down each of Bai Qingsong’s vanguard in turn, then, invincible, led the clansmen of Nirvana Prefecture in a desperate counterattack. Nie Wang cried out that he would spare those who surrendered, then launched his full-scale assault.
Some demons still wished to kill the traitor, but lacked the strength. They either fell or capitulated—and those with iron will met their ends at the hands of the mysterious woman.
Soon the attackers became the besieged. Now it was Nie Wang pressing into East Yao Prefecture.
With his forces unstoppable, Bai Qingsong had no choice but to send his chief steward, Jiao Tian’ao, bearing a communication stone, °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° to the Underworld in hopes that Ye Yu—who had promised to come—would answer the call. Otherwise Bai Qingsong might truly die here.
“Report, Demon Lord,” a demon clan envoy burst into the hall. “The rebel Nie Wang has led his troops into East Yao Prefecture. In half an hour at most they’ll reach the Demon Lord’s Hall. Please make your preparations.”
A cold dread swept through Bai Qingsong. Half an hour until they arrived? Fight or flight—that was the question.
If he stayed and fought, he had only two demon lords of Demon Sovereign rank at his side, let alone half-step Emperor Realm experts. They could never stand against the mysterious woman.
But if he fled, he would lose East Yao Prefecture, his stronghold—and the prestige he had built. Fleeing alone might save his own skin, but he would abandon all his clansmen. They would never forgive him, and his claim to the Demon Throne would vanish. A true demon lord never forsook his people.
Bai Qingsong sank into deep torment.
At that moment, flickers of battlelight danced at the windows of the hall—the clash of armies drawing near. A kneeling demon watched Bai Qingsong’s silence and ventured, “Demon Lord, we should retreat. As long as we live, we can rebuild.”
“I will not flee!” Bai Qingsong’s voice rang with grim resolve. “Tell everyone that when the rebel arrives at the hall, I will lead you personally into battle!”
The demon’s eyes turned red at his lord’s resolve. “As you command, Demon Lord!”
Footsteps echoed away, leaving Bai Qingsong alone in the hall. Loneliness and fear crept through his chest. He lifted his gaze, and two streaks of light shot in from the distance, landing squarely inside the hall.
It was Jiao Tian’ao and Ye Yu.
Jiao Tian’ao saluted, ready to report—before he could speak, Bai Qingsong slid on one knee across the floor to Ye Yu and grasped at his thigh.
“Big Brother, you’ve finally come! I knew you wouldn’t leave me here to die. I’m so moved—so moved!”
Hearing such cloying words, Jiao Tian’ao was dumbfounded. Was this lithe kneeling figure really his Demon Lord? It hardly looked the part.
Sensing the stare, Bai Qingsong turned to Jiao Tian’ao and sent him a mental reprimand: “You fool, what are you staring at? Quit gawking and get out of here. We’re about to discuss the highest strategy of the Demon Realm—nothing for a trivial underling like you!”
Jiao Tian’ao blinked, bobbed his head, saluted, and walked out.
As his steps faded, Bai Qingsong wasted no time and prepared to recount the return from the Celestial Realm. But Ye Yu raised a hand.
“Stop. I don’t have time for your stories. Just tell me how I can help—or rather, who must die to solve your crisis.”
“Two people,” Bai Qingsong said, snapping his belt with one hand and raising two fingers. “Nie Wang, Demon Lord of Nirvana Prefecture, and the enforcer he’s hired—the mysterious woman. I’ve had scouts confirm her strength; she’s nearly on par with the False God Hua Jiuming. So I’ve turned to you, Big Brother. And I’ve prepared a gift.”
He snapped his belt in half.
