Upon the North Sea, azure waves surged as the holy terror howled with glee, sprinting across the water’s surface, his jet-black hair streaming behind him like flickering dark flames. Shi Hao rode the waves with astonishing speed. Over two years had passed since he left Stone Village to seek treasure spells in the North Sea, and now he had ascended to the Transformation Spirit Realm. Though young in age, his true strength was formidable beyond measure.
“Which creature dares disturb these waters?” The sea split apart as several colossal silver sharks breached the surface, their massive dorsal fins gleaming menacingly. “By the heavens, he’s still alive?!” One shark shuddered in terror and immediately plunged back into the depths, never to resurface. The others, upon recognizing that face, felt their blood run cold and fled without hesitation, diving into the abyss. This demonic youth had once wreaked havoc in the Kun Peng’s Nest, slaughtering countless beings and even slaying the avatars of several revered elders. His invincible might had left an indelible mark of awe.
The two prodigies of the North Sea—Mo Xian and Han Tian—were hailed as godlike figures among their peers, yet both had suffered defeat at his hands. Even the descendants of the Sea God and the demonic lineage of the Flame Fish paled in comparison to his battle prowess. Though he had been forced into the Demon Evolution Abyss by the combined might of his enemies, his legend only grew louder, shaking the world. Who hadn’t heard of that battle? Blood had drenched the sacrificial altars as countless corpses lay at his feet. He had risen as the undisputed sovereign of the Transformation Spirit Realm, unstoppable and divine!
As the holy terror raced forward, not only the silver sharks but all sea creatures fled in panic, not daring to linger for even a moment. His passage was like a calamity—a surreal scene of a lone youth striding across the waves while the denizens of the deep scattered before him.
Half a month had passed since Shi Hao emerged from the Kun Peng’s Nest. By now, he knew that the great divine islands and powerful factions had suffered heavy losses, retreating into seclusion. Not just the revered elders—any who had participated in that battle, including the underwater palaces, had sealed their domains, licking their wounds in silence. The North Sea had become eerily tranquil, its clans lying low as their strongest recuperated.
“Damn it, that brat is still alive! I wonder if our ancestor survived… Rumor has it his body was poisoned by a true flood dragon’s venom,” muttered a few sea serpents beneath the waves.
Basking in the morning glow, the holy terror happily hunted massive lobsters, crabs, and even ferocious turtles. On his shoulder, the recently awakened Little Rascal drooled greedily. “These are all delicacies! Grandpa Chief, Uncle Lin Hu, and Big Brother Da Zhuang have never tasted such things. I’ll bring them back to enjoy!”
Amid the golden dawn, the youth dashed across the waves, chasing a school of sea serpents as if herding cattle, stirring towering sprays. Unbeknownst to him, his grandfather—long thought dead—had broken free from his imprisonment.
The Black Forest receded into the distance as the Fifteenth Master strode forth, each step covering hundreds of feet. Emerging into the sunlight after years of darkness, his heart swelled with joy and anticipation for reunion. “After all these years, I must prepare gifts for my grandson. I wonder if that jar of Pi Xiu true blood I once obtained still remains…”
With lightning speed, he transformed into a streak of light, heading toward an ancient mountain range to retrieve what he had left behind. The battle back then had been brutal—he had lost an arm and barely escaped with the aid of a divine formation. “Pi Xiu, we’ll meet again. So what if you’ve cultivated a century longer? I’ll settle the score with you sooner or later!”
The Hundred Clans Battlefield was a ruthless arena where only the fittest survived. After slaying a young Pi Xiu, the Fifteenth Master had been hunted by its elder, nearly perishing in the wilderness. Yet, unyielding even in the face of a divine mountain’s wrath, he vowed vengeance.
Days of relentless travel later, he arrived at a murky swamp, its air thick with decay. With a single palm strike, the earth split open like an abyss, revealing a radiant jade jar filled with shimmering silver blood. Though some of its divine essence had dissipated over time, its recovery filled him with elation.
A thunderous roar echoed as a ten-zhang-long wolf-elephant charged, only to be torn apart mid-stride by a colossal hundred-zhang violet bird—a Dragon-Scaled Roc. Sensing the jar’s potent aura, the beast swooped down.
“Perfect! You’ll make a fine steed,” the Fifteenth Master chuckled, his aura erupting like a demon god’s as he seized the monstrous bird. Despite its struggles, the roc submitted, carrying him toward the imperial capital of Stone Country.
The journey spanned days, crossing endless wilderness before the majestic city came into view—a fortress of jade-like stone, its walls engraved with glowing runes like swirling stars. Guards clad in gleaming armor patrolled its battlements, their weapons radiating killing intent.
As the Dragon-Scaled Roc descended, panic erupted among the soldiers and merchants. Yet the Fifteenth Master dismounted casually, patting the beast’s head. “Good work. Off you go.”
Stunned silence followed. Who was this man who treated such a terrifying overlord as a mere mount?
“I’m… just returning home,” he said with a grin, his snow-white teeth bared. The guards recoiled instinctively, their bodies trembling under his oppressive aura.
Only after he entered did a captain collapse, face pale. “He’s back… The Great Demon God has returned! The capital is doomed!”
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