Fifteenth Master entered the city, but chaos erupted outside the gates. The guards had failed in their duty—just a single glance from that old man had left them breathless and too intimidated to question him.
“What’s happening?” The commotion at the city gates alarmed the warriors within. A group of armored soldiers, their spears gleaming coldly, rushed out from the main street, directly facing Fifteenth Master. Everyone was stunned—this elder was overwhelmingly powerful, his aura and surging vitality like a blazing furnace capable of refining everything.
“He rode in on an Azure-Scaled Eagle, a monstrously powerful avian king!” someone whispered urgently to a commander. In an instant, the leader signaled, and several figures transformed into divine streaks of light, blocking the path—all of them the mightiest warriors in the capital.
The pale-faced captain at the gate wiped cold sweat from his brow, his body still trembling. “The Rain Clan is in trouble,” he muttered before vanishing in a flash.
“May we ask who you are, senior?” a commander on the main street clasped his fists, his expression grave. The capital could not afford to be careless with such a powerhouse in their midst.
“Your reflexes aren’t bad, but still not enough,” Fifteenth Master remarked.
“Who… are you?” one commander asked hesitantly, finding the towering, one-armed elder oddly familiar.
“You look familiar. Aren’t you Little Six from the War King’s Mansion? You used to soil my hands as a child. How you’ve grown,” Fifteenth Master chuckled.
The commanders of the capital held high status—who dared mock them? Yet this old man spoke with such ease. Little Six, now nearly thirty, flushed red. Who was this man to jest so freely?
The soldiers around them stifled laughter, sensing the overwhelming pressure emanating from the elder—like standing before a prehistoric dragon, their very souls trembling.
“Are you… Fifteenth Master?!” Little Six suddenly exclaimed.
“Indeed, I’ve returned,” Fifteenth Master laughed heartily, clapping him on the shoulder with such force that Little Six nearly collapsed, his legs sinking into the stone pavement. Then, with a sweep of his sleeves, Fifteenth Master vanished, covering vast distances with each step.
“Fifteenth Master!” Little Six bolted after him, but the elder was already gone.
“Is that… the old Fifteenth from the Martial King’s Mansion? The one they called the Great Devil God?!”
“By the heavens, the legendary archer Fifteenth Master?!”
The crowd erupted in shock. Wasn’t he supposed to have perished in battle against an adult *Pixiu*? This was a man who had dared fight beings from the ancient divine mountains!
“Quick, report this!” The warriors dispersed, sending urgent messages to their clans.
One commander, his face drained of color, rushed to the gate tower and scribbled a note on a small altar. A silver passage opened, and the message vanished—this was the capital’s rapid communication system. He shuddered, foreseeing disaster.
Fifteenth Master had returned. And he would not rest until the capital was turned upside down.
The Rain Clan’s commander also paled, dispatching messengers and using the altar to relay the news.
The main street buzzed with suppressed tension. Some recognized the Great Devil God’s return but kept it quiet.
Little Six never caught up. Fifteenth Master was simply too fast.
The elder marveled at the capital’s prosperity—thirteen years had passed, and the city thrived with bustling crowds and vibrant commerce. For a man trapped in desolation for over a decade, this lively scene was intoxicating.
He laughed freely, strolling until he reached a grand mansion on a bustling street—the Martial King’s Mansion.
“Who goes there? Halt!” guards barked at the disheveled, one-armed elder.
Fifteenth Master frowned. “Mind your tone, young man.”
The guards staggered back under his oppressive aura. “This is the Martial King’s Mansion! You dare trespass?!”
“I’m returning home. How is that trespassing?”
“Your… home? Who are you?”
“My name is Shi Zhongtian.”
The guards exchanged confused glances. “Shi Zhongtian…? Never heard of him.”
“Wait… that name sounds familiar,” one muttered.
“Fifteenth Master… Wasn’t his name Shi Zhongtian?!”
The realization struck like lightning. The Great Devil God had returned?!
The gates burst open, and an elderly man rushed out, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Old Fifteen?! Is it really you?!”
“Haha, it’s me, Seventh Brother. Still holding a grudge?”
“Never! Come inside—let the family see you!”
As they entered, guards sealed the gates. The Martial King’s Mansion would receive no visitors today.
Deep within the mansion, a small altar flared to life, messages vanishing one after another.
In a secluded chamber, a golden-robed elder roared, “Shi Li, Shi Yuan—what is the meaning of this?!”
“Fourth Brother, calm yourself. Stay here for now.”
“Is Zi Ling back? Or… is someone even more formidable here?!”
The mansion was vast, its halls like celestial palaces. Fifteenth Master wandered through, nostalgic. Thirteen years—his grandson must have grown.
“Seventh Brother, why are we heading to the main hall? Take me to my quarters.”
“You’ve been gone so long. Everyone must see you.”
Servants scurried, spreading the news. The mansion erupted in chaos.
“Old Fifteen! You’re alive!” Some wept, others laughed.
Fifteenth Master noted the absence of his closest kin. Where were they?
“Uncle Fifteen!”
“Grandfather!”
A crowd poured in, bowing deeply. Many children he didn’t recognize—new generations born in his absence.
“Old Fifteen, surviving death itself—what a miracle,” an elder in gray robes said. This was Shi Yuan, fifth among the clan elders, a man who had once opposed Shi Ziling and protected Shi Yi’s mother.
“Fifth Uncle, you look well.”
Shi Yuan’s gaze lingered on Fifteenth Master’s missing arm. “Your arm… But alive is what matters.”
His eyes flickered to the great bow on Fifteenth Master’s back. *With only one arm, can his archery still reign supreme?*
“Fifth Uncle, your descendant Yi—the Dual-Pupiled One—must be shaking the kingdom by now?”
“Yi is exceptional. A young supreme being, unmatched in the wasteland,” Shi Li boasted.
The hall buzzed with praise.
Fifteenth Master grinned. “And my Hao’er? I always sensed greatness in him.”
The room tensed.
“Hao is also remarkable, second only to Yi,” Shi Li said carefully.
Elders chimed in, praising Shi Hao—but their words rang hollow.
Fifteenth Master’s expression darkened. “I may not know what lies within Hao’er, but I know he is no lesser than Yi.”
Silence.
“Where are Zi Ling and his wife? Why haven’t they come?”
“They’re in the western borders. They’ll return soon.”
Fifteenth Master’s gaze turned icy. Then, with a thunderous roar, he demanded:
**”WHERE IS MY HAO’ER?!”**
The hall trembled. Shi Li’s chair shattered beneath him, and he collapsed, trembling uncontrollably.
The Great Devil God had spoken. And now, the truth would be unearthed.
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