The guardian statues transformed into two piles of cold wreckage. Their dull collapse echoed across the spacious outer hall of the Demon Palace before being swallowed by the deeper stillness beyond. The members of "Dawn" squad had no time to recover. Their gazes were collectively fixed upon the unobstructed, deep passage leading to the final core.
Dense demonic energy, like a substantial curtain, billowed from beyond the entrance, carrying an aura that made souls tremble. The jade pendant at Xiaoqi's chest burned so intensely it seemed to fuse with his flesh. Its resonance with the main lotus seed was so strong it triggered synchronized heart palpitations. And that call from the depths of his bloodline, belonging to his father Xu Zhan—suppressed for a hundred years, full of pain and struggle—also tugged at him like invisible threads, piercing him.
"Go!" Xiaoqi's voice carried a hint of hoarseness, yet was unwavering. He gripped the Nirvana Crimson Flame Sword, its crimson light flowing, the Southern Ming Departure Fire's aura not yet fully subsided, and stepped first into that dense curtain of demonic energy.
The instant they passed through the demonic energy curtain, as if piercing through a layer of viscous, icy gelatin, the scene before their eyes suddenly transformed. This caused Liu Yun, Mu Xue, and the others who followed to gasp, their spirits receiving an unprecedented shock.
They found themselves standing in a Demon Palace Great Hall whose grandeur and evilness defied description.
The hall's dome soared to invisible heights, vanishing into rolling black demonic clouds. Occasionally, dark red lightning darted through the clouds, illuminating the hellish scene below.
The entire hall floor was not stone, but a massive, surging pool of viscous, dark red liquid—a Blood Pool! Within it, countless twisted, suffering, screaming vengeful spirits surfaced and sank. They struggled, converged, forming the main body of the pool's waters. The concentrated scent of blood, malevolence, death energy, and decay merged into a nauseating wave of filthy power.
At the very center of the Blood Pool, a colossal, not-yet-fully-formed "body" was slowly taking shape. The body was forcibly fused from the purest demonic energy and the essence of countless vengeful spirits within the Blood Pool. It vaguely showed a humanoid form, but with blurred features. Its surface was covered with continuously writhing, assembling demonic patterns and soul shadows, emanating a chaotic, powerful, yet extremely unstable aura of terror. This was the "Perfect Demon Body" the Demonic Lord was crafting!
Above the Blood Pool, countless thick demonic energy chains, as large as pythons, extended from shadows in the four walls of the hall. They writhed like living things, coiling together and binding a figure.
That figure wore a terrifying dark demonic armor, a scarlet cloak hanging down, head bowed low so that his features were invisible. But the overwhelming demonic might radiating from him, and the familiar aura—now thoroughly shrouded in demonic energy—that shared the same bloodline as Xiaoqi, all proclaimed his identity—
Demon Marshal, Xu Zhan!
Xiaoqi's father!
A hundred years of torment, a hundred years of imprisonment—and father and son, in this deepest part of the Demon Lair above the Blood Pool, had "reunited" in such a manner.
Suspended in the void between Xu Zhan and that forming Perfect Demon Body floated the most central mass of darkness.
It had no fixed form, as if formed from all the negative emotions of the world—greed, hatred, fear, despair, madness—condensed into their ultimate manifestation. It constantly twisted and transformed, sometimes like rolling dark clouds, sometimes like a malevolent ghost face, sometimes taking the shape of countless struggling arms. It was the source of all this, the consciousness that had crossed from beyond the realms—the main consciousness of the Demonic Lord!
The instant Xiaoqi and the others burst into the hall, that mass of twisted darkness seemed to fluctuate slightly. An icy, indifferent gaze, yet carrying an indescribable greed and anticipation, like invisible probes, swept over everyone present, finally locking firmly onto Tang Xiaoqi.
"You have come..."
A voice rang directly within everyone's souls, not transmitted through air—that voice was ancient, obscure, filled with endless malice and a condescending scrutiny.
"Bearing... the ripe fruit."
Its "gaze" seemed to pierce through Xiaoqi's physical body, staring directly at the burning jade pendant on his chest, and the lotus seed vitality within, now at its peak of active manifestation.
At the same time, the bound Xu Zhan, seemingly disturbed by the external presence, or perhaps by the intense blood resonance, very slightly moved his bowed head.
Xiaoqi's entire being was now focused on that figure wrapped in chains. A hundred years of longing, a hundred years of pursuit, countless days of speculation and worry about his father's whereabouts, and the tragic truth of sacrifice just learned—all these emotions erupted like a volcano in this moment!
He could no longer contain himself. Stepping forward, his voice trembling and choking with uncontrollable emotion, toward that figure in demonic armor, he called out with all his strength:
"Father—!!!"
This cry contained all his emotions from a hundred years, contained a trace of the vitality from the World-Cleansing Green Lotus seed, and even more so, his unwavering determination to protect!
The voice echoed through the hall, piercing the surging Blood Pool's wailing, piercing the demonic energy's howling, reaching clearly to the bound figure's ears.
Xu Zhan's bowed head jerked up!
Beneath the demonic armor's visor, two points of crimson light had originally been like dead, cold embers. But upon hearing that cry of "Father," the crimson light frantically flickered and struggled! As if two entirely different forces were battling to the death behind those eye sockets!
One was the cold, violent, destruction-filled will of the Demonic Lord.
The other was the consciousness of Xu Zhan himself, suppressed for a hundred years, already weak and exhausted, but somehow clinging to some obsession with desperate tenacity—a clarity that was distinctly human!
After the frantic flickering, that crimson light actually, with tremendous difficulty and extremely briefly, shed a trace of blood color, revealing a glimpse of humanity—filled with endless pain, guilt, and... a trace of disbelief and excitement!
He saw the youth below, wielding the crimson flame sword, surrounded by a faint purifying light.
That was... Xiaoqi?
His son?!
He truly... had grown up...
This momentary clarity, though brief, caused the demonic energy chains binding Xu Zhan to emit an earsplitting taut sound, as if struck by some internal force!
The Demonic Lord's twisted mass of shadow let out a dissatisfied sound, like the cold wind of the abyss.
"Futile struggle."
More demonic energy surged from the Blood Pool and surroundings, reinforcing those chains, forcibly suppressing that flash of clarity once more. The crimson in Xu Zhan's eyes solidified again, even becoming more violent. He let out an inhuman growl, his demonic aura spiking wildly, like a provoked beast.
But Xiaoqi saw it clearly!
His father's soul was still there! He heard his call! He recognized him!
Hope, like a spark ignited in absolute darkness—though faint, was real and tangible!
Xiaoqi gripped the Nirvana Crimson Flame Sword tightly. All the grief, rage, and longing at this moment transformed entirely into surging battle intent and the determination to save his father! His eyes blazed like torches, fixed on that twisted mass of the Demonic Lord's shadow, his voice cold as eternal glacial ice:
"Demonic Lord! Your end has come!"