The figures of the Demonic Horde had already charged forward, and the earth-shaking drumming resounded in their ears.
At that moment, Xu Zimei activated his Prison Suppressor Demon Body, and boundless Demonic Qi surged up into the sky around him.
His eyes turned pitch black, and concentrated Demonic Qi poured out from them, while purple-black patterns spread from his forehead down to his neck.
Xu Zimei looked up, his gaze indifferent as he faced the Divine Race directly ahead.
...
Jiuyou swore that for the rest of her life, she would remember the scene of that day.
It was a relatively sunny afternoon in July.
Hundreds from the Demonic Horde knelt on the ground, devoutly looking straight ahead.
The man in a black robe stood with a figure that seemed more imposing and yet more solitary.
The thunderous drumming at her ears gradually became distant, as if growing farther and farther away, and her vision focused solely on that man.
