The Flame Demon King didn't attack them immediately upon meeting. From his aura, they could clearly sense his weakness—whether from being sealed and asleep for too long or due to some other cause. One fact was clear: his strength had yet to return to its peak—far from it. Otherwise, how could he simply sit on his throne and chat leisurely with them?
Yi Tianxing noticed this. So did the Decomposer and the Paper Craftsman. Their perception was sharp—how else could they have made it this far? Now was the best moment to strike.
None of them believed the Flame Demon King would remain cordial once he recovered. More likely, he would launch a lethal strike the moment he regained his power.
Still, this lull gave them something they wanted: time to glean information. Specifically, from the Flame Demon King, they hoped to learn more about the Pharaoh King, with whom he clearly had a contract. The details were still unknown, but it confirmed one thing—this space was indeed connected to the Pharaoh King.
"You've been enslaved by the Pharaoh King. You're nothing more than a guard dog, left here to watch over his tomb," Yi Tianxing said calmly, his eyes drifting to the massive figure lying at the Flame Demon King's feet.
It was a three-headed hellhound, with a monstrous form: three savage heads, a serpent tail, and scales made of coiled venomous snakes. Poisonous saliva dripped from its mouths, burning holes into the stone floor. The stench of sulfur filled the air.
Even while lying down, the beast stood dozens of zhang tall. If it stood, it would easily reach a height of a hundred zhang. It was a terrifying creature, its aura overwhelming. Though not quite on par with the Flame Demon King, it still exerted immense pressure.
"Guard dog? Hmph! The Pharaoh King has no such qualifications. I, the Flame Demon King, would never stoop to being anyone's mutt. Ridiculous!" the demon king snapped, his face darkening. The words had clearly hit a nerve.
"Whether you're a guard dog or enslaved… you know the truth better than anyone," Yi Tianxing replied with a faint smile, his voice steady.
He was using a blatant provocation to stir the Flame Demon King, hoping to extract more intel. It was a tactic as old as time—hit the emotional weakness, provoke a reaction. Even if the Flame Demon King saw through the ploy, it didn't matter. A yang-mou (overt strategy) remained effective because it exposed the opponent's soft spot.
"Enslaved? That Pharaoh King merely used the Book of the Undead to break into the Lava Hell, severing a portion of hell itself. I was tricked and sealed into this space. I had no choice but to make a deal—guard his tomb three times, and the seals here would be lifted. Then I would be free—no one could bind me again. It was a contract of equality, not enslavement!" the Flame Demon King roared.
The rage in his tone was unmistakable. It wasn't slavery, he insisted—it was just a deal. To him, the distinction was everything. If word got out otherwise, his reputation would be ruined.
"They must die," he thought to himself coldly. "These three tomb raiders must be silenced. If they escape and spread this, my dignity as a Demon King will be ruined."
Yi Tianxing laughed. "Call it whatever you like. But you're weak now, and if we act, you'll be in a tough spot. So let's make a deal: we give you time to recover, and in return, you tell us about the Pharaoh King and this pyramid. Sounds fair."
"You really think I won't kill you once I'm back at full strength? There's a saying among you humans—'play with fire and you'll get burned,'" the Flame Demon King sneered.
Everyone understood the stakes. No one was under any illusions. It was a matter of mutual benefit—knowledge for time.
The Decomposer stepped forward. "You get time to recover. We get info on the Pharaoh's tomb. That's a fair trade."
"Fine," the Flame Demon King said coldly. "The Pharaoh King—said to be a descendant of the Sun God—was born with extraordinary talent. He didn't even need to cultivate. With time, his bloodline awakened, granting him divine power far beyond the norm. A tribe of unreasonable bloodline heirs."
"The strength of each Pharaoh depends on the purity and concentration of that bloodline. This particular Pharaoh—Rameses III, known as the Third Pharaoh King—possessed an especially pure bloodline. His bloodline mutated over time, awakening the power of the Nether Sun. He practices the Scripture of the Undead."
"At his peak, he was not just a descendant of the sun—he was the Son of the Nether Sun. He had natural dominion over all undead. That kind of power places him at the very top of existence."
If he hadn't been so powerful, the Flame Demon King would never have been sealed by him—nor would he have had the strength to forcibly sever a portion of hell and turn it into a tomb chamber.
"Due to his bloodline mutation, he later became known as the Nether Sun Pharaoh. He even changed his name to Nether Sun."
"You really think that bastard is dead? Don't fool yourselves. I can feel it—he's still alive, slumbering somewhere deep within this pyramid tomb. If he wakes up fully, you fourth- and fifth-tier beings are just lambs to the slaughter. This pyramid is his domain. I've heard he's undergoing a critical transformation. Of course, if someone were to interrupt that… I'd be very interested in watching."
The Flame Demon King chuckled darkly. He clearly held no loyalty to the Pharaoh King and freely disclosed sensitive information. The very mention of the Pharaoh King filled him with fear and disdain.
While most Pharaohs cultivated the Solar Scripture, the Nether Sun Pharaoh practiced the Scripture of the Undead—a completely opposite path. His talents were terrifying.
"You think this pyramid is just a tomb? Wrong. This is his palace, converted into a tomb after he began slumbering. He's laid down who knows how many traps and techniques. From what I know, I'm not the only one locked in a split space like this. There are others. Fall into the wrong place, and it'll be a perfect nightmare."
Yi Tianxing and the others could easily imagine it—how many fragmented hell realms had been embedded in this pyramid tomb? No one knew. But one thing was sure—there were many.
"Enough. That'll do. Flame Demon King, it's time to send you on your way," Yi Tianxing said with a nod, his eyes flashing with cold light.
"Send me on my way? Hahaha! Do you really think I'm still that weak? You've given me time to recover, and now you think you can kill me? Just this three-headed hellhound at my feet is enough to devour you whole! And don't forget to look around…"
The Flame Demon King burst into laughter.
Around them, the vast Hellspace was swarming with demons. Not just him—there were thousands of Hellfire Demons and tens of thousands of lesser demons, all once held at bay by his aura. Now they closed in, sealing off all escape routes.
A demon army.
"Did you think we were all alone? Attack!!" Yi Tianxing shouted coldly.
As he spoke, a vast Mountain and River Diagram appeared above him. From it, one could see a massive Chaos War Pool.
Within it, towering figures radiated killing intent—the Heavenly Emperor's Dragon Guard.
Each of them was cloaked in dragon scales of different colors—gold, blue, yellow—each exuding a different aura. In their hands, they wielded spears engraved with reverse scales, the Reverse Scale Spears—weapons capable of piercing the heavens.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Streaks of divine light shot down from the Chaos War Pool, landing before Yi Tianxing.
This time, three thousand Dragon Guards appeared—every one of them at peak Dharma Phase Realm, their physical prowess enabling them to battle Nascent Soul Realm powerhouses. Their combat power was firmly within the fifth tier.
"Lord, we offer our spears to sweep away the enemy!" they shouted in unison, voices filled with unshakable faith and fearlessness. Their eyes saw only Yi Tianxing.
"Good. Wipe out these demons. Leave none alive!" Yi Tianxing commanded without hesitation.