Demons Attack — Chaos Amid Ascension
The moment the lightning dimmed, the world did not find peace.
Instead, darkness surged.
From the fractured edges of reality itself, black rifts tore open with violent force, splitting the air like wounds that refused to heal. From within them, demons poured out—twisted forms clawing their way into existence, their eyes burning with malice, their presence thick with corruption. The sudden shift was overwhelming, as if the heavens' judgment had invited hell to answer.
Their intent was unmistakable.
They were here for Xiao Yan.
"Fight! Hold them back! Don't let them disrupt the ascension!" Saint Lu Qi's voice thundered across the battlefield, carrying authority and urgency in equal measure.
The Saints reacted instantly.
Moving with practiced precision, they formed a protective circle around Xiao Yan's suspended form. Their auras flared in unison, layers of defensive energy overlapping as they anchored themselves against the encroaching darkness. Every movement was deliberate, every stance honed through centuries of battle.
Mi-An did not hesitate.
Her eyes sharpened, fear pushed aside by resolve, as she turned to the remaining disciples. With swift gestures and firm commands, she organized them into a defensive formation, positioning each according to strength and capability. Her movements were fluid, controlled—every decision made in seconds, every breath measured.
Across from them, the demons shifted.
As if mocking the Saints' discipline, the demonic forces mirrored their formation. Dark energy twisted around their bodies, coiling like living smoke, pulsing with hatred and hunger. The air between the two sides grew heavy, charged with impending violence.
Above them all, the heavens roared again.
The last nine lightning strikes began.
Blinding arcs tore through the sky, violent and merciless, crashing down toward Xiao Yan in rapid succession. Each strike shook the ground, sending shockwaves rippling outward as the tribulation reached its most brutal phase.
And then—
The battlefield exploded into chaos.
The Saints clashed head-on with the advancing demons, their energies colliding in violent bursts of light and shadow. The sound of impact echoed endlessly—steel against claw, spell against curse, power against power. Sparks flew, earth shattered, and the very ground cracked beneath the overwhelming force of battle.
Demon generals surged forward.
Their strength was terrifying.
Far outmatching the aging Saints, they struck with overwhelming power, each blow carrying the weight of ancient hatred. Saints were forced back, their defenses straining under relentless pressure.
Mi-An fought fiercely.
Beside her, Di'or moved in perfect coordination, the two of them striking side by side. Every swing of their weapons was precise, every spell cast with lethal accuracy. Their attacks cut through lesser demons, energy flaring brilliantly as bodies fell and dissolved into smoke.
Still, the demons kept coming.
Suddenly—
Something went wrong.
Without warning, the Saints' formation wavered.
Then collapsed.
No one understood how or why. Perhaps a single flaw had been exploited. Perhaps the demons' cunning had finally found its opening. Whatever the reason, the once-solid defensive circle shattered, leaving gaps that darkness rushed to fill.
Fear rippled through the disciples.
And then—
He appeared.
The Demon Supreme Commander stepped forward.
The moment his presence manifested, the battlefield seemed to shrink beneath it. Raw, oppressive power radiated from him, every step he took causing the ground to tremble violently. His aura alone crushed morale, pressing down on bodies and minds alike.
Disciples faltered.
Some froze in terror, others struggled simply to remain standing as fear crept into their hearts like poison.
Above them, Xiao Yan clenched his teeth.
Suspended in the heart of his tribulation, he endured as the final lightning strikes crashed over him one after another. Each blow burned through flesh and bone, tearing, reshaping, reforging his being with divine cruelty. His screams were swallowed by thunder, his body trembling violently as power and pain intertwined.
Below, the Demon Supreme Commander raised a single hand.
With one effortless gesture, a devastating wave of force erupted outward.
The Saints were sent crashing into the ground, their bodies thrown aside like broken relics. They struggled to rise, blood staining their robes, strength slipping away beneath the crushing demonic pressure.
The disciples fell as well.
Pinned by an invisible weight, they were trapped within a tightening circle of darkness, breath knocked from their lungs, hope slipping away with every passing second.
From the center of the chaos, the Demon General laughed.
"You are still weak," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just like a thousand years ago."
His gaze swept across the fallen Saints, the terrified disciples, the crumbling battlefield.
"Who will save you now?" he continued mockingly. "No one! Hahahaha!"
Above them all, lightning continued to fall.
And Xiao Yan endured—
caught between heaven and hell,
as the world itself stood on the brink of collapse.