Ch. 1315 - Demonic Armament, Blackflame Qilin
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At Xu Jiama’s warning, Wang Lin quickly fell silent. He knew he’d spoken too freely. No matter what, the Heavenly Dao was not something a minor demon like him could casually discuss.
“What’s there to be afraid of? Just say what’s on your mind,” Xu Zimo said.
“It’s fine,” Wang Lin replied, then asked, “Judging by your tone, Brother Xu, what is your ambition?”
“Me?” Xu Zimo smiled. “I want to see the Ancient Demon Race rise again and walk once more towards the peak of the Nine Heavens. I just don’t know how many of our kind still have the will to do so.”
“And how would we rise?” Wang Lin asked. “Don’t be fooled by the fact that we rule the Godfiend Abyss Heaven, it’s nothing but a cage. If we tried to defy the world, we’d be crushed the moment we stepped beyond its borders.”
He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Besides, Heaven isn’t our only enemy. There are others, like the Heavenly Court. They’ve always been at odds with us.”
“You seem well-informed,” Xu Zimo said with a faint smile.
“I read about it in the Academy. There are books about these things,” Wang Lin explained.
“Do other Ancient Demons know about this too?” Xu Zimo asked.
“More or less,” Wang Lin said. Xu Jiama nodded as well. “Everyone still dreams of the glorious age of our race.”
The Ancient Demon Race might have declined, but it hadn’t vanished. Everyone knew that few Ancient Demons were allowed to ascend to sainthood, and those who did never lived long. The reason was never stated outright, but all understood. There are divine eyes watching from above.
The Heavenly Dao feared them.
It feared the return of that ancient age.
Hearing this, Xu Zimo felt somewhat reassured. The Ancient Demons hadn’t gone completely cold-blooded, and that was enough. Weakness wasn’t the problem; they could become strong again. He himself had once risen from weakness, leading the Ancient Demon Race to greatness. What mattered was whether their blood still ran hot.
“Unless the Infernal Lord returns, it’s better not to dream about it,” Xu Jiama sighed. “I’ve heard that Ancestor Hellfire Asura is content with the status quo and doesn’t wish to provoke anyone. The Heavenly Court’s pressure has grown stronger these years, they may be preparing to act.”
“I thought Heaven no longer targeted the Ancient Demon Race,” Xu Zimo asked curiously. “Then why is the Heavenly Court pressuring you?”
“Who knows? We used to live in peace,” Wang Lin said, shaking his head. “But lately, it’s like they can’t wait any longer, they want to wipe us out.”
Xu Zimo thought for a moment and understood.
Before, Heaven and the Heavenly Court had time to slowly suffocate the Ancient Demons, boiling the frog in warm water. But now that he had returned, the Infernal Lord reborn, they must have grown anxious.
While they were talking, a loud laugh suddenly rang out nearby.
“Wang Lin! Finally found you lot, do you know how long we’ve been searching?”
Even without looking, Wang Lin recognized the voice.
“Hong Ze,” he muttered coldly. “You really are like a lingering ghost.”
“What’s wrong? Didn’t find the inheritance?” Hong Ze said mockingly.
“What’s it to you?” Wang Lin shot back.
“Do you know how I found you?” Hong Ze sneered. “I sprinkled Tracking Powder on you. Within a hundred miles, I can sense your presence. Now, if you kneel and beg forgiveness, I might let you live. Otherwise, this Ancient Demon Road will be your grave.”
“You think we’re afraid of you? If you want a fight, come on!” Wang Lin snapped.
“We’ll see how long that bravado lasts,” Hong Ze growled, his demonic aura flaring. The four followers behind him stepped back as he raised his hands.
“Blackflame Qilin!” he roared.
Dark energy surged from his palms, condensing into the massive form of a black qilin. Its roar echoed through the Ancient Demon Road, shaking the air. Even the surrounding Ancient Demons shrank away in terror, not daring to approach.
“It’s a Demonic Armament,” Wang Lin said grimly. “That shameless bastard, he’s using his father’s weapon against us.”
“Demonic Armaments are personal weapons; they’re not supposed to be lent out,” Xu Jiama added. “If he’s using it, his father must have allowed it.”
“What do we do?”
“What else? Run!” Wang Lin barked, turning and sprinting down the path without hesitation.
With a demonic armament in play, fighting was suicide.
Xu Zimo blinked, surprised by how quickly Wang Lin had lost his nerve. A moment ago, he’d been full of righteous fury; now, he was gone in a flash.
The others, realizing the danger, began to flee as well. After all, the seven days were nearly up, if they survived a little longer, they’d be pulled out automatically.
Only Xu Zimo remained standing still.
“Brother Xu! Run!” Wang Lin shouted, glancing back. True to his word, he turned around to drag Xu Zimo along.
“My Blackflame Qilin is here, where can you possibly run?” Hong Ze bellowed.
His voice boomed like thunder, his aura surging upward. Above him, dark clouds gathered and twisted, and from within them emerged the form of a gigantic beast.
The qilin stepped forth from the demonic clouds, its scales black and molten like flowing magma. Each breath it exhaled came as a blast of white-hot vapor. Its crimson eyes glowed with murderous intent.
“We’re doomed,” Xu Jiama said weakly, collapsing to the ground in despair.
“What’s a Demonic Armament, anyway?” Xu Zimo asked calmly.
“Brother Xu, now’s not the time for that!” Wang Lin shouted in frustration.
“No matter what, if I’m going to die, I’d rather die knowing,” Xu Zimo said with a smile.
“You’ll know soon enough,” Hong Ze sneered. “Let me enlighten you before you die. A Demonic Armament is a beast raised from birth with a demon’s own blood essence. Once bonded, it becomes part of us, no matter its rank, once it drinks demon blood, it becomes a true demonic beast. Its power is immense, unique among the Seventy-Two Million Mountains!”
“Oh. I thought it’d be something special,” Xu Zimo said, shaking his head in disappointment.
Such beast-binding techniques were crude, and damaging to one’s own life force. True power never relied on external tools.
The Blackflame Qilin descended, shaking the entire Ancient Demon Road. A torrent of black fire spewed from its mouth.
“It’s over, we’re dead,” Xu Jiama whispered, closing his eyes in despair.
But the searing pain never came.
The world had gone eerily quiet.
He opened his eyes in confusion, and saw Xu Zimo standing before him.
“B–Brother Xu?” Xu Jiama stammered.
“Don’t rush to die,” Xu Zimo said with a faint smile.
He glanced at the Blackflame Qilin, then raised his hand.
Infernal energy burst from his palm, coalescing into a long, glowing line.
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