The chaotic Demonic Sect had bowed to him, crowning him the Demon Emperor, and solidifying Netherspire Citadel as the most powerful Demonic Sect.
Zalroth's strength was beyond question.
But those deep, pitch-black eyes that turned toward Timothy were anything but friendly.
In fact, there was a faint, unmistakable trace of killing intent in the air.
"What brings you to Netherspire Citadel?"
Zalroth's voice was low and commanding, causing the demonic cultivators on either side to stand at attention, clearly in awe of him.
Timothy responded with a casual calmness, "In three days, the Goddess will hold a summit at Sky Sanctuary, gathering all the sects under the heavens. I'm here to deliver her letter."
"The Goddess's letter?"
Zalroth let out a cold laugh, his eyes now openly filled with icy disdain.
"If Goddess Sylvia had come herself, I might've welcomed her. But you? You're not worthy."
