The terrifying aura that suddenly erupted from the old man startled Mo Fan and He Feifei, making their legs feel weak for a moment.
The phenomenon manifesting around him added a fierce and fearsome air, completely devoid of the serene calm he had shown earlier.
“What a terrifying being!” Mo Fan thought, shaken. Though he had already realised the old man was no ordinary person but a powerful demon-like existence, he now saw he had severely underestimated his strength.
This wasn’t just a great demon; this was practically a supreme being!
Suddenly, a familiar face flashed through Mo Fan’s mind, calming his tense nerves.
If it was that senior, it would make sense!
“I understand!” the old man suddenly laughed, his aura retracting instantly, the phenomena around him vanishing.
He took a step forward, his frail appearance transforming into a silver-haired old man.
“It really is him… the White Tiger Saint King!” Mo Fan wasn’t too surprised, as he had already suspected this, though he hadn’t been certain.
To possess such power yet not harm him, there were few in the demon race who fit, and the most likely was the White Tiger Saint King, whom he had met briefly long ago.
As the White Tiger Saint King laughed, he took a second step.
Boom!
A terrifying wave of energy radiated from him, instantly sending Mo Fan and He Feifei flying back.
“So strong!” Mo Fan’s expression shifted. His demonic energy surged, forming a black cloud that enveloped him and He Feifei as they retreated several miles before stabilising.
Mo Fan glanced at He Feifei, only to see the crane demon had unceremoniously fainted again.
He rolled his eyes, then looked ahead.
The White Tiger Saint King’s once-hunched figure now stood tall and straight, exuding vigour despite his white robe. His silver hair grew denser, shimmering with a faint glow.
In just two steps, the White Tiger Saint King had gone from frail to a robust, vibrant man, as if rejuvenated.
“Hu!” The White Tiger Saint King took a deep breath.
Instantly, Mo Fan felt the surrounding space compress, as endless spiritual energy converged from all directions, flowing into the White Tiger Saint King’s nose.
At that moment, a slightly translucent figure stepped out of his body, appearing before Mo Fan in a single step.
“S-senior?” Mo Fan stammered, asking tentatively.
“Sorry for startling you, but I must thank you for giving me the answer!” the White Tiger Saint King said with a smile.
“Huh?” Mo Fan was baffled. He didn’t think he had said anything profound, mostly just spouting nonsense.
Could it be that his casual words had enlightened this senior?
No way…
As Mo Fan grappled with doubt, the White Tiger Saint King spoke. “I’ve been stuck at the Demon Ancestor realm for too long, unable to break through. I used to think it was due to insufficient demonic power or spiritual energy, so I cultivated relentlessly. But when I realised I had no rivals at this level, I understood I was on the wrong path.
“Little toad, remember this: breaking through to the Demon Saint realm isn’t about external things but the heart!
“I’ve been plagued by her obsession, fixated on the demon race’s future and whether demons and humans could coexist peacefully. I thought that was my true pursuit, but it only deepened my obsession.
“Your words just now woke me up.
Since I was born a demon, why obsess over befriending humans?
That might be her obsession, but it’s not mine, Bai Xiaosu’s!
My obsession has never changed, and it’s singular: to follow in her footsteps, to see her again!
That’s the obsession I seek!”
“Born a demon, I should act freely!” The White Tiger Saint King laughed heartily, his voice shaking the heavens, his gaze fixed on the depths of the Hundred Thousand Mountains, as if his words carried deeper meaning.
Atop a high peak, a captivating woman in a white robe gazed wistfully at the towering figure by the riverbank, as if seeing the dashing man who once called her “Xiaoya.”
Behind her, a man and a woman watched silently.
The young man had sharp brows and bright eyes, his handsome face framed by a patched green robe, faded from countless washes.
The girl beside him, barely sixteen or seventeen, had fair, radiant skin and a face of stunning beauty, her peach-blossom eyes particularly enchanting. A red vermilion mark on her forehead, like the woman’s, added a touch of allure.
“Brother Yanmo, is that demon the one the Ancestor has been thinking of?” the girl asked softly, her voice reaching the young man.
Startled, he glanced at the woman before cautiously replying via transmission, “Yunshang, don’t speak recklessly. With the Ancestor’s cultivation, she can easily overhear us!”
“Oh… fine, I was just curious,” the girl pouted, glancing at the woman and falling silent.
Meanwhile, across the Hundred Thousand Mountains, towering figures appeared, all gazing eastward. Despite the vast seas of clouds and countless peaks, they seemed to see the figure by the riverbank, their expressions varied.
On Phoenix Cry Mountain, a stunning woman stood at a steep cliff’s edge, hands behind her back.
Gazing at the eastern clouds, her indifferent expression held a trace of regret as she murmured, “Act freely… do you know how hard those four words are? We’re all waiting, so why can’t you?”
By the Black Water River, between three mountains, Bai Xiaosu, the White Tiger Saint King, slowly withdrew his gaze, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
“Senior?” Mo Fan called out tentatively, seeing him silent for so long.
“I know you have many questions, but my time is short. So, if you’re willing, dare you take a journey with this Saint?” the White Tiger Saint King asked, suddenly smiling.
“A journey?” Mo Fan was stunned, then asked, “Where to?”
“To see the human race’s great mountains!
To see if the demon race’s backbone has been completely worn down!
To see if I, Bai Xiaosu, can secure another thousand years of peace for the demon race!”
