Oppression

Once these words were spoken, suppressed snickers and murmurs of agreement immediately spread through the demon race camp. Countless eyes—some mocking, some contemptuous, some greedy—all fixed on Mo Yu and Xiao Ruobai.

Even some nearby human cultivators stirred uneasily, instinctively putting a little more distance between themselves and the pair.

Pressure, like an invisible tide, surged forward.

Yet Mo Yu merely lifted his eyelids lazily. His crimson-gold vertical pupils swept faintly over the golden-haired youth who had been shouting.

“Jin Lie, how many times have you lost to me? Lost count by now, haven’t you?”

“Now that you see I’ve chosen a new master, you can’t wait to jump out and put on this victor’s pose…”

A glint of piercing insight flashed through Mo Yu’s eyes. His tone suddenly sharpened like a blade.

“Are you genuinely defending the dignity of our race, or are you just desperate to make sure I never return? After all, as long as I stay in the demon race, I’ll always be looming over you!”

Jin Lie’s pupils contracted sharply. The demon aura around him solidified.

But unexpectedly, he didn’t fly into a rage. Instead, he let out a low, cold laugh. The fury in his eyes gave way to a bone-chilling iciness. “Mo Yu, you’re still as sharp-tongued as ever.”

His demon aura began to pulse with an oppressive rhythm. His voice grew even colder. “A traitor is a traitor. There’s no need for so many excuses. Once we leave the Grand Emperor’s Tomb, I’ll personally capture you and take you back to Ten Thousand Demon Valley to face the clan’s justice!”

“As for now—” A cruel grin curled at Jin Lie’s lips. “You’d better pray that your new backer survives this Emperor’s Tomb first.”

“Capture me back to Ten Thousand Demon Valley?”

Mo Yu raised his eyelids slightly. He looked at Jin Lie, his tone as flat as if stating a fact.

“You, a loser under my hand. Not capable.”

Mo Yu stopped glancing at him. He turned his gaze to the glowering South Domain Demon Lord. “I appreciate your goodwill, Demon Lord.”

“But I choose my own path. I’ll walk it myself.”

Without another look at the Demon Lord, whose expression grew even darker at these words, and ignoring Jin Lie, who seemed ready to spit fire, Mo Yu turned his head slightly.

He looked at Xiao Ruobai, whose aura remained calm and steady beside him. Mo Yu’s massive head tilted almost imperceptibly—yet unmistakably—closer to him.

This tiny gesture held more weight than any grand proclamation.

Return to his old clan? Hah. Following a future emperor, eating well and living like an emperor himself—now that was a deal worth making!

The South Domain Demon Lord’s expression had by now clouded over like a storm. Mo Yu’s ruthless refusal was like a resounding slap to his face.

His scarlet demonic pupils rotated slowly, shifting past Mo Yu, burning like twin volcanoes as they locked onto Xiao Ruobai.

He thought, “For a Qilinzi to follow him so utterly devoted… Let me see just what you’re made of.”

Terrifying demonic might, tangible and wild, with the brutality of the primal age, surged toward Xiao Ruobai alone!

The air seemed to freeze, groaning under the crushing weight.

The Demon Lord’s intention was twofold: to probe Xiao Ruobai’s limits, and to crush his spirit by sheer pressure, forcing him to back down.

Xiao Ruobai stood as straight as a pine. Facing the overwhelming pressure of a Saint Lord, his expression remained calm.

He didn’t retreat. He didn’t even avert his gaze. He simply stared back, his eyes deep as an ancient well, undisturbed by the storm.

Yet, around him, an invisible battle intent—restrained yet incredibly tenacious, as though it could tear the heavens apart—rose quietly. It became an intangible fortress that met the monstrous pressure head-on, refusing to yield even an inch.

Xiao Ruobai spoke slowly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through every murmur.

“Demon Lord. Mo Yu belongs to me now. I will protect his path. You need not trouble yourself.”

“Good. Very good!”

The South Domain Demon Lord’s face was now so dark it practically dripped venom.

BOOM!

The terrifying Saint King’s pressure surged again, condensed into an extremely refined, destructive shockwave, bearing down on Xiao Ruobai alone!

This was no longer a simple clash of auras. It was absolute crushing of one realm over another.

Crack…

The bones of Xiao Ruobai’s entire body groaned in agony beneath the load. The void under his feet instantly collapsed, fine black fissures spreading around him.

He felt as though his very soul had been thrown into a furnace. Every inch of his skin endured tearing pain. The law fragments of a Saint King drilled into his foundation and will like billions of scorching needles.

This was the true fury of a Saint King’s wrath!

Yet Xiao Ruobai’s form remained unyielding as a pine, rooted deep in the void. Even though blood began to seep from every pore, he didn’t step back even half a step!

His face turned as white as paper. But those deep-set eyes flared brilliantly, like the coldest stars in the darkest night.

He stared evenly at the Demon Lord. In his gaze there was no fear, no surrender—only an almost crazed calm and defiance.

“Hmph! Let’s see how long you can hold out!”

The scarlet light in the Demon Lord’s eyes flared. The pressure increased by three more levels!

Pfft!

Xiao Ruobai violently coughed up a mouthful of blood. The blood left his body and immediately crystallized into shattering ice.

But his battle intent didn’t crumple under the oppression. Instead, under this extreme pressure, it became like divine iron forged again and again—more condensed, more pure.

This biting oppression, he engraved it into his memory.

Every groan of his bones, every searing drop of his blood—they were like the deepest brands, carved into his very soul.

This unyielding will, this battle spirit from the depths of his being, somehow held firm against the terror that could have shattered an ordinary Sage’s resolve in an instant.

Just as Xiao Ruobai reached his limit—

Huumm!

A faint sword note rang out. Fang Hanyu stepped forward expressionlessly, his Chaos Sword Intent slashing outward, taking on almost thirty percent of the pressure for Xiao Ruobai.

At almost the same moment, Ling Xi silently shifted. Her Devouring Field unfurled and quietly dissolved another thirty percent of the crushing force.

Fatty Wang’s talisman glow lit up, shielding the two flanking positions.

The four advanced and retreated as one. Their united will, tempered and fearless, actually carved out a space under the Demon Lord’s terrifying weight!

The South Domain Demon Lord’s pupils tightened slightly. He hadn’t expected these juniors to bind together with such tenacity.

In the Western Buddhist camp—

Fakong stared fixedly at Xiao Ruobai, who was still locked in confrontation with the Demon Lord. His eyes were filled with undying venom and jealousy.

His fists clenched until his knuckles went white. Inside, he roared madly: “Keep at it! Fight! A massacre! Let that Battle Asura be torn to shreds by the Demon Lord! Only then will my heart’s hatred be avenged!”

The memory of Xiao Ruobai defeating him with bare hands—nearly shattering his Dao heart—burned within him. He now craved to see the Demon Lord utterly destroy his enemy.

The atmosphere was stretched to the breaking point!

It seemed that with one wrong word, the final battle would erupt!

The South Domain Demon Lord narrowed his scarlet pupils, killing intent churning within. He weighted the pros and cons.

But when he thought of the mysterious supreme who had annihilated the Radiant Holy Land behind Xiao Ruobai, his mind filled with caution.

The demon race had ancient foundations—several Quasi-Emperor ancestors slumbered in their tombs. They were hardly weaker than this mysterious figure. But for the sake of a Qilinzi, it was not yet worth drawing the enmity of that person.

A few breaths later, the oppressive demonic pressure receded like a receding tide.

The Demon Lord let out a cold snort, his voice like the grating of metal against stone, echoing through the silent air:

"Hmph, you do have some backbone."

He cast a deep gaze at Xiao Ruobai, his tone carrying an icy edge:

"I hope that within this Emperor's Tomb, you can maintain that backbone all the way..."

His voice trailed off as he withdrew his gaze, no longer paying any attention to Xiao Ruobai and his group, as if they were not even worth another word.

The tense atmosphere among the demon clan camp eased slightly, but their hostility grew even more profound.

First chapter released; the other two chapters are still being revised. Please be patient and wait a moment.