Chapter Sixty-Three: The Lich’s Final Battle

“Is our son truly safe or not?” His wife was already gone; he could not bear to be left without an heir. How could he face Xi He’s spirit in heaven if he failed to leave behind a lineage?

Di Jun hurried forward without even brushing the dust from his body, grabbing the shoulder of his kind corpse and asking anxiously.

“All but the Sixth Prince have been slaughtered—no survivors remain,” the kind corpse replied, his own heart heavy with grief. These children, after all, were like his own; how could he not mourn for them?

Upon hearing this horrific news, Di Jun felt the world spin before his eyes. Rage and agony surged within him, and he coughed up a mouthful of black blood. His body staggered and collapsed backward, prompting the gathered demon saints beside him to hurry forward and support him.

Tai Yi, rushing to Di Jun’s side, steadied him and asked with concern, “Brother, you must hold on! The demon race cannot lose you!”

Even the demon saints standing nearby pleaded, “Your Majesty, please take care of your health. The greater cause must come first!”

Di Jun forced open his blurred eyes and reached out his trembling hand. Tai Yi immediately grasped it, and Di Jun said to him, “Now only we remain. I will make the Wu tribe pay for this!”

When a man loses his most precious kin, the pain surpasses any physical wound; it is a hurt of the heart, impossible to mend. Even Di Jun, a Golden Immortal of the highest order, was powerless before such grief.

Those gathered around Di Jun immediately knelt, pledging their loyalty: “We swear to defend the last honor of the demon race! To live and die with Your Majesty!”

“Good, good, good! With such unity, how can our great cause not flourish?” Di Jun exclaimed, repeating “good” thrice, his spirit clearly lifted.

It was true—if the demon race had fought as one from the beginning against the Wu tribe, how could they have ended up in such dire straits?

At that moment, the shout of Emperor Jiang from the Wu tribe echoed outside: “Emperor Jiang, are you unharmed, my friend? Step forth and fight! Our hands grow idle!”

Upon hearing this, Di Jun was furious. When had the demon emperor ever been summoned and commanded so brazenly? He immediately sought to rise and confront the Wu tribe.

Tai Yi and the others, seeing Di Jun’s weakened state, knelt and begged him not to go out. Yet Di Jun, still enraged, calmed himself and addressed his people: “If I do not go out, it will only embolden the Wu tribe’s arrogance. Rather than let them grow unchecked, I will go and see what tricks they are up to!”

Accompanied by Tai Yi and the others, Di Jun approached the palace gates. Looking down at the Wu tribe gathered like ants below, his heart was filled with dread: “It seems our demon race’s strength will be depleted yet again.”

At this point, the outcome of the war mattered less than the will of heaven, which could not be defied. Only by crossing this threshold could one glimpse the gate to the Great Dao.

The mindset of both sides was equally crucial. If the enemy’s fighting spirit collapsed, victory would soon follow; the reverse was also true. This was why Di Jun insisted on showing himself.

“Ha ha ha! I knew it—Di Jun’s fortune is so enduring that it cannot be claimed lost. In the future, none should say such things!” Emperor Jiang laughed upon seeing Di Jun stride out, clear-eyed and composed, as though nothing had happened.

Emperor Jiang and his kin did not understand the truth. They did not cultivate their primordial spirits, relying instead on innate turbid energy for their power.

The demon race was different; they cultivated their primordial spirits, absorbing spiritual energy from heaven and earth. Certain spiritual herbs and objects could be refined into elixirs, which restored their power when depleted and allowed them to rejoin the battle.

Before coming out, Di Jun had been forced by the Wu tribe’s pressure to swallow some of his own elixirs, restoring his strength and enabling him to confront the Wu tribe. Otherwise, how could he have fought?

Emperor Jiang and his kin wondered—was their formation not powerful enough? Yet seeing the broken remnants in the sky, they grew uneasy, unsure what was at play.

“As the lord of the demon race, how could I not have some means of protection?” Di Jun said, unwilling to reveal the secret of his elixirs, though it was hardly something that could be concealed.

He also meant to mock them: after all their efforts and such a grand display, they had gained nothing—how laughable!

“So, Di Jun, let us see if you can withstand our tribe’s attack!” Emperor Jiang and Zhuo Jiu Yin charged straight at Di Jun, aiming for a surprise assault.

No matter what Di Jun said, this calamity could not be avoided.

Tai Yi knew well that his brother was severely injured and could not endure prolonged combat. Though aided by medicine, such external support could not be relied upon, lest it breed dependency and weaken his foundation.

Tai Yi stepped forward and declared, “Do you intend to bully the few with the many?”

At that moment, Qiang Liang and Yu Zi, two ancestral Wu, flew in from afar and called out to Tai Yi, “Let us face you!”

Tian Wu and Xuan Ming engaged Di Jun’s kind and evil corpses, while Ju Mang and Ru Shou faced Tai Yi’s kind and evil corpses. Hou Tu battled the demon master Kun Peng.

Gong Gong and Zhu Rong, two ancestral Wu, turned their gaze toward the demon saints.

These two were among the top five in combat strength among the ancestral Wu, their power formidable.

“Gong Gong, how about this—let’s see who can kill more demons. Whoever loses must call the other big brother!” Even now, Zhu Rong found the mood to jest.

Truth be told, Gong Gong was the elder, but he and Zhu Rong had a poor relationship. Zhu Rong was ever unwilling to accept it, leading to such banter.

“Very well. If you lose, don’t regret it!” Gong Gong swiftly unleashed his power and charged toward the demon saints, whose cultivation was only at the late Tai Yi Mystic Immortal stage, save for Fuxi, who alone reached the Golden Immortal realm.

Zhu Rong’s attack began as well.

Emperor Jiang, while maintaining the River Diagram and Luo Book formation and restoring his own power, was inwardly astonished: “Emperor Jiang and Zhuo Jiu Yin’s combined assault is truly formidable.”

Emperor Jiang was the “God of Space,” while Zhuo Jiu Yin was the “God of Time.” Together, they could launch their unique attack—“Time-Space Stasis.” It created a world of their own, where time itself halted; thus, Emperor Jiang struggled to keep the formation turning.

At the Golden Immortal level, all previous arts and mystic skills could be learned with ease—the principle of all methods converging.

Breaking the formation and their combined assault was simple if one had enough power, but within it, Di Jun sensed no trace of spiritual energy. Clearly, Emperor Jiang and Zhuo Jiu Yin had integrated him into their world, severing him from the energy outside.

Looking at the few elixirs left in his hand, Di Jun smiled and thought, “Xi He, we shall meet again soon.”

Outside, Ju Mang and Ru Shou, whose abilities were weak against fire, were suppressed by Tai Yi’s kind and evil corpses. Qiang Liang and Yu Zi grew fiercer the longer they fought; Tai Yi, already drained, now faced the thunderous combined attack of the Wu tribe’s two ancestors, his situation perilous. If not for the Chaos Bell in his hand, Tai Yi would have already joined his sister-in-law and nephews.

Even so, he could not withstand a joint blow from the two ancestral Wu. With a thunderous crash, Qiang Liang struck him aside, sending the Chaos Bell flying far away. The two ancestors knew their opportunity had come.

Yet at that moment, their hearts suddenly trembled; tears fell from their eyes without warning. A distant boom echoed, and the two stood dazed.