Not long after Orion and his troops separated, a thick, ominous cloud of demonic energy descended upon the battlefield. As the dark fog cleared, a cold, heavy figure emerged— the Third Prince, accompanied by his demonized black-clad guards. His aura radiated menace, and behind him, one of the men in black sniffed the air curiously.
"Strange... it smells like a massive battle just took place here. The scent of blood is everywhere," the guard remarked.
Without warning, the Third Prince kicked the man to the ground, his boot sending up a cloud of dust. "Do I need your commentary? Even a blind man could see the carnage around us!"
Ever since succumbing to demonic transformation, the Third Prince's temper had grown wild and unpredictable, with violence always just a breath away. Luckily, his guards were tough and could endure his frequent outbursts. The man in black, undeterred by the assault, climbed back up with a foolish grin.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but with all this flesh and blood lying around... might we partake?" His voice dripped with greed, his eyes gleaming with hunger.
The Third Prince narrowed his eyes at his guard's lack of self-control. "Look at you all, salivating like dogs." Then, unable to resist the temptation himself, he grinned darkly. "Fine. Forget about chasing Orion for now. Feast. Devour every corpse here."
In an instant, the demonized guards leaped onto the fallen soldiers, tearing into them with a hunger that bordered on insanity. The Third Prince, however, sat cross-legged and closed his eyes, preparing to absorb the energy from the battlefield using his demonic cultivation techniques. Wisps of black smoke coiled from his body, spreading across the landscape like ink in water.
As his energy made contact with the corpses, the Third Prince's eyes snapped open, a flash of surprise crossing his twisted features. "This... this corpse belonged to a Martial Saint?"
Shock rippled through him. In this seemingly insignificant battle, six Martial Saints had perished, their powerful life forces now lingering in the air. And there were countless others— half-saints, powerful warriors, all slain.
The Third Prince, a peak-level Martial Saint himself, felt an unexpected wave of doubt. If he had faced this army, would he have been able to survive? Would he have been slaughtered as easily as these warriors?
"Is Orion truly this powerful?" he whispered, his voice tinged with the first signs of fear.
But there was no time for hesitation. The battlefield was a goldmine of power waiting to be harvested. Pushing aside his unease, the Third Prince grinned wickedly and resumed his cultivation, absorbing the vast energies around him. After a moment, he sensed something even more extraordinary— a fallen demonic cultivator at the Martial Saint level.
"Haha! A demon cultivator died here? What luck!"
For demon cultivators, devouring their kind meant immense gains in power. The Third Prince wasted no time. With a sweep of his hand, the scattered remnants of the demon's soul were drawn together, forming a blood-red mist. From within, the transparent figure of a tormented soul struggled in vain.
"Please, let me go!" the soul of the fallen demon pleaded, writhing in terror.
The Third Prince sneered, his voice cold and merciless. "Beg all you want. You're mine now." Without hesitation, he swallowed the soul whole, his body glowing with a malevolent energy.
The infusion of power was immediate. The Third Prince's body trembled with ecstasy as he absorbed the essence of the Martial Saint-level demon, far more potent than any of the others. He could feel his strength soaring, far beyond what he had anticipated.
Half a day passed. The battlefield had been stripped bare, the corpses devoured, and their essence drained. The Third Prince, now brimming with dark energy, finally shattered a barrier within himself.
Boom!
An oppressive imperial aura burst forth from his body. The sky darkened, the winds howled, and the very ground trembled under the weight of his newly gained power. It was as if the heavens themselves wept in despair.
"Hahaha! My demonic power has reached its peak!" The Third Prince's laughter rang out, wild and unhinged. He had broken through— he was now a Half-Emperor, a demon emperor in his own right.
Though the terrifying vision of his ascension shook the heavens, the Third Prince had taken precautions, using artifacts to conceal his breakthrough. His rise to power went unnoticed by most, sparing him from unwanted attention... for now.
But even as his newfound power surged within him, a lingering sense of dread remained. Despite his ascension to Half-Emperor, the Third Prince knew he was still no match for Orion. The massacre of six Martial Saints had left him in awe of the enemy's strength.
"Orion," the Third Prince muttered, his scarlet eyes narrowing. "For now, I cannot afford to confront him head-on. But I won't give up. You've made many enemies... sooner or later, you'll slip, and when you do— I'll be there."
His twisted smile returned as he plotted his next move, the thirst for revenge burning hotter than ever.