Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 50: Taking Up Arms

"Then I have one more question," Wang Chuan asked. "Was your life in the Demon Realm truly so unbearable that you are so determined to return?"

Once the demons set foot here, a great war would erupt. Where there is war, countless lives are lost. Generations have strived, and the demons have paid immense prices, always seeking to reconquer the Divine Continent.

"It was dire," Xu Sheng sighed. "From the moment we left, we began planning to regain our strength and return. That is why generation after generation has made such efforts. On one hand, the cycle of eras is turning, a cosmic catastrophe is coming—soon, nothing will remain. Yet there has always been a rumor, dating back to the ancient era when the saints still walked the earth. It is said that they accurately calculated the timing of the next great calamity. Moreover, the new cycle is said to begin here, on the Divine Continent. This is our last chance, this land will be the new beginning."

"After the saints vanished, everyone believed they would eventually return. Since this is the only land left, it would mark the start of the new cycle. So, surely, they will return! Time grows short..."

"But the demons can wait no longer. They do not understand—the Demon Realm has begun to fall, it is becoming a true purgatory. Heaven and earth are collapsing. According to the calculations of my clan's elders, the Demon Realm's lifespan nears its end. If we cannot open the passage in time, we will be forced to cross the stars by brute force and arrive on the Divine Continent. How many will survive in the end? Each must accept their fate."

Xu Sheng spoke slowly, helplessly.

Such is the might of fate—no force of men can resist it. Just as a great river flows on, they can change nothing.

"In truth, when Tian Xingzi hailed you as the Human Sovereign, I too wished you could truly become that. If I could also command the demons, we could divide the land and rule it peacefully," Xu Sheng went on, drawing with a casual swipe a map of the Divine Continent and its islands with colored energy. "All we demons require is this one corner, and we would not conflict with the other races."

It was the most peaceful solution—claiming but a single region.

"But with the cycle turning and the world collapsing, even here we would end up slaughtering one another. Brief peace is meaningless," Wang Chuan replied.

"Indeed," Xu Sheng nodded.

An irrefutable truth.

"Let it end here!"

Wang Chuan raised his hand, seizing complete control of the energies around the core of the ancient estate.

His palm closed, and, like Xu Sheng before him, he could conjure clouds and summon rain at will.

A fierce wind rose between heaven and earth, gathering with overwhelming might. The wind sprang from the earth, as if rising from the nethermost depths, shooting straight up into the heavens like a pillar of light.

This was earth's calamity, the terrestrial tribulation.

Molten lava surged upward, following the wind.

Wind howled, fire burned.

All living things were helpless, like wild grass—cut down, incinerated, melted away.

"Wang Chuan, do you truly mean to make yourself my enemy?" Xu Sheng, robbed of authority, demanded.

"In pursuit of the Dao, one must press on fearlessly," Wang Chuan answered coolly.

There was nothing more to say.

Xu Sheng drew a deep breath, exhaled forcefully—a torrent like wind, like a waterfall, like a mountain.

Billowing black energy surged forth, crashing toward Wang Chuan.

Wang Chuan moved slightly, reached into the void, and tried to crush it in his grasp.

Yet wisps of black energy still escaped, as if sending his aura in all directions.

Layer upon layer, countless demon clansmen rushed at him, and finally, the Demon God once more noticed him—immediately abandoning those other struggling prodigies and bearing down on him.

The reversal was instantaneous—those others fell to the ground, no longer able to fight; so-called prodigies, limited by their realms.

And now the world itself had become a crucible, refining all within.

Only Wang Chuan remained, that proud and unyielding figure burned deep into their eyes.

With authority seized back by Xu Sheng, the demon clansmen and the Demon God all attacked him.

Still he stood there, defying the will of heaven, fighting the world with one hand.

Lightning crackled where he stood, then slowly faded.

When he met the Demon God's gaze, his eyes were calm and serene.

Unlike other warriors, there was no hatred or fear.

"So this is all there is..."

Wang Chuan sneered.

If this was all the Demon God could muster, why should he fear battle?

It was only an avatar, and he had already discerned the enemy's methods.

He could practice demonic arts as well.

In this demon god's estate, he was not necessarily inferior to the rest.

Wang Chuan formed hand seals with lightning speed, each gesture striking out to block the demon hordes.

His five fingers curled like claws, reaching again for Xu Sheng.

If the world must be refined, then let it be by his hand.

Though heaven and earth move, he remains unmoved.

"Curse it, a Demon God in name only, yet you cannot slay a mere mortal!" Xu Sheng cursed furiously. "No wonder you all went to such lengths to wipe him out, to seize his destiny! If this man isn't a natural-born sage, or a sage reborn, then he must have inherited their legacy and luck. With this kind of fortune, he is destined for greatness; sooner or later, he will not be confined to any pond! Each time he survives peril, he is reborn anew! If we fail to kill him now, it will only grow harder!"

As Xu Sheng spoke, he watched Wang Chuan's expression.

But he was disappointed—calm as still water, deep as an abyss, giving nothing away.

Such a man, if not always on guard, must possess a mind and depth that are truly terrifying.

The world had long rumored he was the reincarnation of a sage from the White Jade Capital. Many had scoffed in the past, but now Xu Sheng could no longer dismiss it.

If not a great demon who had survived countless calamities, how could he have achieved this?

And why were the Demon Gods targeting him? Surely for the sake of his future achievements, to seize his fortune, or even his very body.

This man had cultivated for only a short time yet had made such rapid progress, and still had the potential to rise further, while those Demon Gods had grown aged, weak, clinging to life, unable to advance—unless they could secretly reach the land of the Sages' Ruins, otherwise their lifespan would soon end.

The closer one draws to their end, the more desperate they become to cling to life.

Beneath Wang Chuan’s Dragon-Claw grasp, Xu Sheng found there was nowhere left to run.

Now at last he understood the might of ancient divine arts.

"I was just about to ask—why are there still Demon Gods in the Demon Realm?" Wang Chuan remarked coolly. "But now I see, I need not ask."

He seemed to understand.

After the great war, the saints vanished, the gods’ twilight descended.

Yet some Demon Gods hid themselves away, refusing to follow.

Perhaps it was the fate of the defeated.

They hid in the Demon Realm, enduring endless ages, unable to break through.

Their lifespan drew to an end, and only then did they begin to seek a way out—such as taking over other bodies.

He no longer needed to ask Xu Sheng—he had already understood.

"You think you can refine a hundred thousand warriors to open a passage? Then let us see whose path comes to an end! I intend to refine the demons, to bury you all! Come! Only those who prove the Dao are worthy, even if it means dying nine times without regret!"

Wang Chuan roared, true energy surging wildly throughout his body.

It was as if he commanded the world itself, which responded in kind.

A desolate aura from the ancient past swept forth, making even heaven and earth tremble.

Astonishingly, the entire demon god’s estate seemed to sense fear.

In that instant, Wang Chuan erupted with a power equal to the Demon Gods, standing as high as the heavens themselves.

All things in heaven and earth seemed to bow at his feet.

They submitted.

The martial artists of the Divine Continent were dumbfounded—was this truly Wang Chuan, the real Wang Chuan?

How could anyone be so strong?

His strength was suffocating.

As it was said from the beginning, how could mortals pursue the sun?

Yet perhaps Wang Chuan was born to be the blazing sun itself.

"No wonder it’s Wang Chuan—he has not disappointed me," Xu Sheng laughed, a sense of exhilaration flooding him.

His body and spirit were elated.

Truly a worthy adversary.

Once, even the Demon Gods had looked down on him as a mere genius.

Those old fellows were decrepit now, though once glorious, having waged war with the gods and shone brilliantly.

But why not fall in a blaze of glory? As the defeated, they should die heroically.

Yet they continued to cling to life.

He had always despised such people.

And now Wang Chuan had appeared, like a comet across the sky.

He was one of his kind.

To defy the gods with a mortal body.

That is the essence of a true martial artist.

Only martial artists dare defy the heavens!

As they spoke, Xu Sheng appeared at Wang Chuan’s side.

Sensing the immense pressure from Wang Chuan, he suddenly summoned a demon tower, two men tall, from within his body. Demonic energy surged through it.

All around, countless dragon-shaped currents of true energy roiled, and within them, the faint forms of millions of celestial demons prayed, as demonic energy was refined.

"The sunset is beautiful—was that your poem?" Xu Sheng asked quietly.

Neither attacked the other.

Xu Sheng stood still, gazing at the horizon, blazing red as fire.

Heaven and earth were collapsing, purifying, refining all things.

The crimson glow spread wider, its flames growing ever more intense.

"You won’t attack?" Wang Chuan asked, surprised.

He was covered in blood and grime, his wounds severe. His smile was unsettling.

"Hahaha..." Xu Sheng laughed loudly.

Magnificent—truly magnificent. Such brilliance born from the edge of life and death always stirred the soul. To prove the Dao in such a spectacular way, to leave a mark on the myriad worlds, to shine through the ages—this was his pursuit.

He stood silently, channeling the demon tower, drawing all the energy of this world into himself.

It seemed the two had reached an unspoken understanding.

"Xu Sheng, what are you doing? Why haven’t you subdued Wang Chuan yet? Are you betraying us?" the Demon God now roared in fury.

He was bound by the power of the estate, every attack suppressed by Wang Chuan.

And Wang Chuan controlled the world itself.

He himself had lost all control, rejected by heaven and earth.

It was as if the world itself sought to expel him...

What kind of terrifying power was this?

But most shocking was Xu Sheng’s betrayal.

Why had he suddenly thrown his lot in with Wang Chuan?

Kindred spirits?

Absurd!

Such sentimentality in the face of true power!

"Shut up, you wretch!" Xu Sheng retorted coldly, his face full of contempt.

"What? You dare disrespect me?" the Demon God roared, shaking the heavens. "When I made my name, your kind hadn’t even appeared yet!"

"And yet now you cling to life in such disgrace?" Xu Sheng sneered. "Why do we call ourselves the Sacred Demon Sect? In the past, all worlds called us the Sacred Clan. Now, with you here, we are shamed. Once, our clan shone so brilliantly, swept across the stars, ruled the myriad worlds—even the gods feared us, and we reigned for ages!"