"Of course," the elder said calmly. "This Heaven-Hate Demon Formation is woven from three million six hundred thousand fiends and three hundred and sixty Demon Kings. Anyone trapped inside—unless they're an immortal-realm ancient titan—will lose a layer of skin before getting out. This array is a fragment of the Heaven-Hate Compass, the sacred treasure of our sect, Emperor Shesha Mountain. These demons have been raised inside it for ages. We set the ambush early, specifically to eliminate that 'Death-Script Scholar' for the Fourth Prince."
The green-eyed Da Xia Master's gaze gleamed. "Now the Fourth Prince and Thirteenth Prince should understand the depth of our strength."
"As for this Death-Script Scholar—his identity has always been suspicious. I suspect he's someone else in disguise, but I've lacked proof. This time, we finally have an opportunity. Kill him or capture him, force him to submit. If he continues assisting the Twenty-Fourth Prince, he'll be a threat to me."
He gestured downward at the swirling demon storm. "But be careful. His techniques are no joke. He killed the Azure Ram Patriarch in a single strike."
"Azure Ram? That piece of trash deserves the title 'patriarch'?" one of the Seven God-Kings scoffed. "Anyone from Emperor Shesha Mountain could've killed him ten times over. Aside from immortal-realm ancients or top-ten candidates on the Longevity List—those with profound cultivation and actual Dao artifacts—I don't take anyone seriously."
"You're not wrong." Da He Master nodded. "Even if this man is skilled, he isn't an ancient immortal. Besides, the Heaven-Hate Demon Formation isn't meant to kill him outright. It's meant to drain him. Even if he ruptures the formation, his mana will be half-gone. Then I only need one move to crush him for eternity."
The Fourth Prince admired the roiling demon sea below. The Death-Script Scholar was still enveloped in a sphere of star-light, struggling but not yet breaking.
"I've heard," he said, "that the Star-Extinction Heir of the Constellation Gate obtained an ancient Buddhist relic— the Lantern Buddha Umbrella. It contains five million demons purified by scripture, able to generate endless wish-power for him. I wonder how it compares to your Heaven-Hate Compass?"
Da Xia Master answered lightly, eyes still on the rising demonic tides. "The Lantern Buddha Umbrella is a mid-grade Dao artifact. It can only purify demons below the Heaven-Human level. The Heaven-Hate Compass, however, subdues even fifth- and sixth-realm Devil Kings. Unless one has forged a Devil-Forging Golden Core, they cannot escape its grip. It is a high-grade Dao artifact."
The Thirteenth Prince felt a deep tremor in his chest as he spoke to the Fourth Prince through spiritual sense:
"Brother… these seven people are wrong. Too strong. They appeared out of nowhere two months ago and suddenly pledged themselves to us—yet they can command this many demons? Three hundred and sixty Demon Kings? That's the kind of force only ancient immortals command. Even the imperial clan has only one Dao artifact—yet they casually bring out a high-grade one?"
"They're from beyond this world," the Fourth Prince replied quietly. "Emperor Shesha Mountain must be an extraterrestrial sect, one on par with the Ten Immortal Gates. They want something here. And we can use them. The Death-Script Scholar won't be trapped for long. Let them clash. We'll watch and learn their true limits."
Below, inside the maelstrom of shrieking demons, Yi Prince stood close beside Fang Han, protected within a sphere of starlight. The demon tide couldn't penetrate.
"Why are there so many demons in the open sea?" Yi Prince whispered, shaken. "If this many existed, they would've long been purged by the islands."
"They weren't here," Fang Han said. "They were brought. Planted. These demons were raised by those 'Da Xia' and 'Da He' Masters. They want me dead. You? Probably not. But me? Definitely."
Yi Prince's blood chilled. "Impossible! Those men don't even appear to have Golden Cores—how could they—"
"They're hiding their cultivation," Fang Han cut him off. "Every one of them is ten times stronger than Azure Ram. Da He and Da Shang might be as strong as the Black Nether King."
"That's impossible! No rogue sect has such—"
"They're not a rogue sect. They're something far more dangerous. That's exactly why I haven't acted yet. If one escapes and reports back to whoever stands behind them, we'll both be doomed."
Fang Han continued to calmly wield two star-techniques—Star-Refining Demon Blade and Constellation Shield—cutting down Demon Kings while conserving power. His Golden Core had transformed these arts into something beyond anything the Constellation Gate's own disciples could muster.
Half an hour passed.
"A full half-hour, and his power hasn't diminished at all," one God-King muttered, uneasy. "That shouldn't be possible."
"Then we accelerate it," Da He said. "All seven of us—infuse the demons."
They opened their mouths and released a strange, frigid essence—neither qi nor life-force, but something superior, tyrannical.
God-Blood Essence.
Demons were originally created by gods. A trace of divine blood could mutate them, empower them, distort them into something far more terrible.
The moment the God-Blood seeped into the demon horde, the entire formation changed.
Millions of fiends swelled like overinflated beasts. Some sprouted scales, limbs, even heads—mutating into proto-kings.
The sea for a thousand miles turned into a slaughterhouse as every living creature—fish, coral snakes, sea turtles, deep-sea jellies—was dragged into the vortex, their blood feeding the formation.
"It's too strong…" the Thirteenth Prince shuddered. "Even as a Golden Core, I might die in there."
The Fourth Prince drew his Invisible Sword, barely maintaining his footing. "The Death-Script Scholar—he's finally reaching his limit!"
But before he finished speaking—
Fang Han moved.
In that instant he understood:
When seven God-Kings give up their divine essence to empower demons—they cannot retreat.
This was the perfect moment.
"If not now… when?"
His Golden Core shot out of his body—then exploded outward, expanding a thousandfold, blazing like a supernova.
The entire Heaven-Hate Demon Formation shattered like glass.
A storm of black holes erupted around him as he unleashed the Great Devouring Art. Demon Kings and fiends were ripped into the void, their essence drawn into the churning furnace of his Golden Core.
The sky went dark.
His core—now the size of a house—hovered above him like an eclipsing sun, swallowing the world's light.